Auld Scotland Wants Nae Skinking Ware.

Canty Burn's Nicht a'body.

No, Ahm no gonnae show ye somethin' fancy tae dae wi' yer haggis. Ah prefer it plain wi' neeps and tatties. Fit fine!

But fit ah am here tae spik aboot is this month's Random Recipes.

Dom has speart us tae get uir recipe fae somebody else's cookbook collection.

The bonny quine fae Little Macaroon emailed me a recipe for Spezzatino Di Cinghiale fae Twelve by Tessa Kiros.

Ah used pork shooder insteid o wild boar but it made a braw, comfortin bowlie o scran.

Reminds me o the rhyme mah Grandma wid say when dishing up the tea - 

Soup in a bowlie

Tatties on a plate

 And a wee bittie beef

If ye dinna come late.

Great Chieftan O' The Puddin-Race.

Haggis, neeps and tatties is one of my favourite meals.  I would make a whisky cream sauce to go with it if we had guests but it was just the four of us tonight so we had it plain.  Yum.

Ye Pow'rs wha mak mankind yer care,

And dish them out their bill o' fare,

Auld Scotland wants nae skinkin ware

That jaups in luggies;

But, if ye wish her gratefu prayer,

Gie her a haggis!

Burns Night holds special memories for us.  4 years ago, Steve was MC at a Burns night in the city.  I was just over 35 week's pregnant and I told him to go ahead and drink to give him a bit of Dutch courage and we would make this his last alcohol until the baby was born.  Ooops.  We live an hour away from the city in the middle of nowhere.  I was on my own.  It is so obvious now as I had this incredibly strange urgency to bake loads of cakes.  I made cookies and had a chocolate cake in the oven when I went into, what was to be, a very rapid labour.  Steve had had rather too much whisky by the time he got my call.  He had to get my Mum and Dad to pick him up (still in full kilt regalia) and drive out to me.  By the time they got here I was nearly at the pushing stage.  My Dad drove down the winding country roads at over 100mph while poor Steve was vomiting out the back window and I was effing and blinding in the front seat.  When we arrived at the hospital I was in a bad way and my immediate greeting to the midwives was, "he's drunk".  Well I didn't really know what I was saying but poor Steve tells me that the midwives treated him with disgust - probably thought he was one of those horrid, neglectful husbands.  And, of course, we had forgotten the notes so my poor Mum and Dad had to race all the way back to our house to get them.

We have a good laugh about it now and weren't as careless for the birth of Rufie.  My labour with him was equally quick but we were much better prepared.

Anyway, Steve tells me that he sobered up VERY quickly that evening.  And, of course, Burns night always has us reminiscing.  Happy and funny memories now but at the time I was scared out of my wits.  But we've got a beautiful boy to show for it.

And I'll have to remember to watch what I say to people about my husband even when I'm terrified and in agony.  Poor guy.

Oh, and by the way, I rescued the chocolate cake - I crawled through on my hands and knees to get it out of the oven at the right time.  Unfortunately no-one ever ate it and it was thrown out when we returned home about 5 days later.