A bottle of whisky is poured into a cut glass tumbler over ice. Space for copy. Photograph: Catherine Falls Commercial/Getty Images
We have Robert Burns to thank for perhaps the greatest poem about any dish ever – a poem so good that it inspires an entire nation to dedicate an evening of each year to eating haggis, even though most people find it kind of gross.
No? If the “Great Chieftan o’ the Puddin-race” were that delicious, we’d all be eating it all the time, surely? And yet Burns’ Address to a Haggis is enticing enough to dispel any such doubts just once a year. I especially like the bit about slitting it open so the bright entrails spill out: “And then, O what a glorious sight / Warm-reekin, rich!”
