A few folks have mentioned the blog has been a bit quiet. First, I’m embarrassed to say that I thought I had published my last post, but apparently had left it in drafts, so today is a two-for-one post. Oops!
While life is still pretty quiet and lockdown has now been extended until at least mid-February, it’s heartening to how people have adapted traditions to this new reality. In the last couple of weeks, I’ve had the chance to dabble in a couple of Scottish festivities of sorts.
My sister and I had some quality online time together last weekend watching the performance of an extremely talented young fiddle artist and composer, Charlie Stewart, at Glasgow’s Celtic Connections festival. This major annual music festival highlights both traditional and contemporary Celtic musicians worldwide and tries to elevate young talent. Charlie Stewart won their young artist contest in 2017 (click his name above to see the winning performance) and we got to hear the amazing pieces that he composed during the pandemic. Also, had the concert taken place in person, my sister and I wouldn’t have been able to enjoy it together, so that was an extra gift.
The Scots seem like a festive, fun-loving people, proud of their heritage and culture and January 25th is a special day when they celebrate the birthday of poet Robert Burns (born 1759) and his contributions to Scottish culture. You may know Robert Burns as the author of “Auld Lang Syne” but he means so much more to the Scots. Though he died at 37, he was prolific – in poetry and in other areas of his life which I’ll summarize as wine, women and progeny (father of 13!).
According to the National Trust for Scotland, the first Burns Supper was comprised of a small group of friends coming together to recite his poetry, sing his songs and share a meal in his honor. The tradition built over time and now there are Burns Suppers among friends, in restaurants and pubs, charity events, etc.
While I understand that the first Burns Night Supper likely had a sheep’s head as the main course, one of Burn’s poems “Address to a Haggis” points to the standard fare that can be found at today’s Burns Night events. Haggis, Scotland’s national dish and a close kin to Pennsylvania German scrapple, is made of sheep offal along with oats, onions and spices. It’s served alongside mashed “neeps and tatties” (a/k/a turnips or rutabagas and potatoes). And then there is at least a “wee dram” of Scottish whiskey involved.
While there were some online events and restaurants making Burns Night packages to go, we opted this time for a quiet dinner at home with a vegetarian version of haggis. As we had dinner, we enjoyed the recitation of “Address to a Haggis” on YouTube. Maybe not totally authentic, but a fun rookie start.
And, if you didn’t quite comprehend the Scottish dialect in the YouTube link above, you can see the original poem and a translation here.
Here’s to celebrating arts and culture in any way that works!
My nieces have committed the Address to a Haggis to memory and like to recite it. However, I doubt very much that they have ever had any haggis. Might be too warm-reekin rich for them.
Between the victorian hair braiding, animal escapades and now recitation of Burns, your nieces are sure eclectic and bound to be interesting at any party. 🙂
What is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?” ~ Mary Oliver
I think you will “do”in Scotland my darling wee lass. 🥰
Thank you, that made me cry. I hope someday not too far off you can visit. I miss your hugs. Sending you a big one now.
I had a chance to try haggis, neeps and tatties long time ago and I’m not sure if I’d like to try it again. This traditional Scottish dish was the food of shepherds. By modern standards it seems to be far from what most consumers would consider palatable. Given the fact that historically the people of northern countries had to base their diets on high-protein foods to withstand the harsh climate, and sheep are naturally bred in mountainous areas of the world, haggis seemed to be quite nutritious.
“Address to a Haggis” without intralingual translation seems to be impossible to understand unless one is a linguist specialising in Scottish literature.