Haggis in the New Year

While in California for Christmas I had the opportunity to check out another gem hidden in the El Cerrito Plaza, a German and English specialty foods shop called the Junket. The store’s shelves were stocked with all the classic favorites – lemon curd, Marmite, digestive biscuits – and the prepared foods looked appetizing too, particularly the potato salad and the ham sandwiches. Wandering the aisles of specialty food stores can be exciting and inspiring, but the prices of imports usually mean that an item has to be especially worth purchasing. Lemon curd and potato salad I can make myself, but I did come across one thing at the Junket that I couldn’t resist paying for: a can of haggis.

I had never tried haggis before, and I realized that even though it's an icon of Scottish cuisine that people love to "ew" at, I didn't have a good idea about what it was. I knew that it's usually cooked in a sheep's stomach, which, I'll admit, does give the impression that the Scottish are purposefully trying to gross people out. But canned haggis is (obviously) skinless, and its contents remained a mystery to me. From reading the ingredients, it seems like there's nothing not to like: lamb heart, pork fat, oats, lamb liver, port, salt, and dehydrated onions. I suppose some people might be turned off by the lamb heart, but a slightly open mind would recognize that those are reasonable ingredients to combine.

I was eager to try it, but unsure about preparation and presentation. Wikipedia and the can label offered a variety of instructions, like heating individual servings in the oven with a teaspoon of whiskey poured on top, or spooning it over fries, or scrambling it with eggs, and all sources were clear that it should be consumed either with brown ale or Scotch whiskey. In the end I spooned some out of the can and heated it in the microwave, which created a surprising amount of steam and caused it to render a fatty, bubbly liquid. When the steam had subsided, I tried a cautious forkful. As you might have predicted from the ingredients, haggis is incredibly rich. Its combination of internal organ flavor, fat, and salt triggers the primal human compulsion to eat as much protein and lipids as possible, but something about the taste and texture made me think I didn’t want to keep eating it much longer. It's delicious, but it's also the epitome of "a bit much." The texture is smooth and creamy like pâté, and I think the best way to serve it is on a piece of crunchy dry toast.

There’s a lot of haggis left in the can, but even though it’s only January 2, I may have reached my haggis quota for the year. It’s definitely worth trying, so I invite anyone who’s interested to come have a taste.