It's not that the last few days have been really eventful, it's just that i've been sick so, I have spent lots of time doing my homework and just lying around so i figure i may as well write.
I had a really high fever yesterday. 39! I had no idea how to respond when Bianca told me. I seriously need to figure out celsius but, aparently it was really bad. The worst thing about it was i think i made the babies at Raffaella's sick. Or they made me sick. Either way we're all sick. But, i'm getting better. I hope the babies do too and that Giuseppe doesn't hate me forever. It wasn't until Friday afternoon that I was really not feeling good but, i spent all of Friday at Raffaella's.
Today is a National Scottish Holiday "Robbie Burns Day." Actually I think that was on the 25th of January but, we're celebrating it today. No, unfortunately Douglas wouldn't go all out and wear his kilt and sing a poem to the haggis. They actually sing a poem to the food. That's because Robbie Burns is a famous poet that wrote a poem to the haggis. Why did he write the address? Douglas thinks it was a joke. I'm with him. If i'm ever a famous poet i'm doing something like that.
Address to a Haggis
1.
Fair fa' your honest, sonsie face,
Great chieftain o' the puddin-race!
Aboon them a' ye tak your place,
Painch, tripe, or thairm:
Weel are ye wordy of a grace
As lang's my arm.
2.
The groaning trencher there ye fill,
Your hudies like a distant hill,
Your pin wad help to mend a mill
In time o' need,
While thro' your pores the dews distil
Like amber bead.
3.
His knife see rustic Labour dight,
An' cut ye up wi' ready slight,
Trenching your gushing entrails bright,
Like onie ditch;
And then, O what a glorious sight,
Warm-reeking, rich!
4.
Then horn for horn, they stretch an' strive:
Deil tak the hindmost, on they drive,
Till a' their weel-swall'd kytes belyve
Are bent like drums;
Then auld Guidman, maist like to rive,
'Bethankit!' hums.
5.
Is there that owre his French ragout,
Or olio that wad staw a sow,
Or fricassee wad mak her spew
Wi perfect scunner,
Looks down wi' sneering, scornfu' view
On sic a dinner?
6.
Poor devil! see him owre his trash,
As fecl;ess as a wither'd rash,
His spindle shank a guid whip-lash,
His nieve a nit;
Tho' bluidy flood or field to dash,
O how unfit.
7.
But mark the Rustic, haggis-fed,
The trembling earth resounds his tread,
Clap in his walie nieve a blade,
He'll make it whistle;
An' legs, an' arms, an' heads will sned
Like taps o' thrissle.
8.
Ye pow'rs, wha mak mankind your care,
And dish them out their bill o' fare,
Auld Scotland wants nae skinking ware,
That jaups in luggies;
But if ye wish her gratfu' prayer,
Gie her a Haggis!
Anyway, I didn't get to actually hear the poem and Douglas' scottish friends didn't come because, Bianca and I are both not feeling well. I don't have a temperature or anything anymore, it's just recovering I suppose. Next time, they will come though, and i'm going to beg for a performance. :) I was too easy letting Douglas off the hook.
Anyway, do you guys want to know what Haggis is? It actually doesn't taste that bad but, it's disgusting. It's basically meatloaf.
Here's the recipe: Take the liver, lungs, and heart of a sheep and boil. Mince the meats and mix with chopped onions, toasted oatmeal, salt, pepper, and spices. Take one properly cleaned sheep's stomach. Stuff the cleaned stomach with the prepared contents. Sew up the stomach (leaving enough room for expansion to avoid a large messy explosion) and boil. Serve and eat. Lovely!
They didn't tell me what it was until after i ate but, they were so nervous and always saying "now if you don't like it, please don't eat it" Scott and Finlay, like true scotsmen love it. I don't think that is the actual recipe anyway. That's how it was in old times but, now it's just any meat in the cooked in the stomach of a lamb. Okay, fine, it's a disgusting idea. We didn't eat the outside.
Anyway, that's all to report. That, and I'm either going to Sicilia on Wednesday or in March. Times had to change because the family is going on vacation. I just can't decide when to go. March is so busy and February isn't but, next week is midterms for my online classes. Still, I think i'm going to study hard and go on Wednesday. I'll keep you posted.
I had a really high fever yesterday. 39! I had no idea how to respond when Bianca told me. I seriously need to figure out celsius but, aparently it was really bad. The worst thing about it was i think i made the babies at Raffaella's sick. Or they made me sick. Either way we're all sick. But, i'm getting better. I hope the babies do too and that Giuseppe doesn't hate me forever. It wasn't until Friday afternoon that I was really not feeling good but, i spent all of Friday at Raffaella's.
Today is a National Scottish Holiday "Robbie Burns Day." Actually I think that was on the 25th of January but, we're celebrating it today. No, unfortunately Douglas wouldn't go all out and wear his kilt and sing a poem to the haggis. They actually sing a poem to the food. That's because Robbie Burns is a famous poet that wrote a poem to the haggis. Why did he write the address? Douglas thinks it was a joke. I'm with him. If i'm ever a famous poet i'm doing something like that.
Address to a Haggis
1.
Fair fa' your honest, sonsie face,
Great chieftain o' the puddin-race!
Aboon them a' ye tak your place,
Painch, tripe, or thairm:
Weel are ye wordy of a grace
As lang's my arm.
2.
The groaning trencher there ye fill,
Your hudies like a distant hill,
Your pin wad help to mend a mill
In time o' need,
While thro' your pores the dews distil
Like amber bead.
3.
His knife see rustic Labour dight,
An' cut ye up wi' ready slight,
Trenching your gushing entrails bright,
Like onie ditch;
And then, O what a glorious sight,
Warm-reeking, rich!
4.
Then horn for horn, they stretch an' strive:
Deil tak the hindmost, on they drive,
Till a' their weel-swall'd kytes belyve
Are bent like drums;
Then auld Guidman, maist like to rive,
'Bethankit!' hums.
5.
Is there that owre his French ragout,
Or olio that wad staw a sow,
Or fricassee wad mak her spew
Wi perfect scunner,
Looks down wi' sneering, scornfu' view
On sic a dinner?
6.
Poor devil! see him owre his trash,
As fecl;ess as a wither'd rash,
His spindle shank a guid whip-lash,
His nieve a nit;
Tho' bluidy flood or field to dash,
O how unfit.
7.
But mark the Rustic, haggis-fed,
The trembling earth resounds his tread,
Clap in his walie nieve a blade,
He'll make it whistle;
An' legs, an' arms, an' heads will sned
Like taps o' thrissle.
8.
Ye pow'rs, wha mak mankind your care,
And dish them out their bill o' fare,
Auld Scotland wants nae skinking ware,
That jaups in luggies;
But if ye wish her gratfu' prayer,
Gie her a Haggis!
Anyway, I didn't get to actually hear the poem and Douglas' scottish friends didn't come because, Bianca and I are both not feeling well. I don't have a temperature or anything anymore, it's just recovering I suppose. Next time, they will come though, and i'm going to beg for a performance. :) I was too easy letting Douglas off the hook.
Anyway, do you guys want to know what Haggis is? It actually doesn't taste that bad but, it's disgusting. It's basically meatloaf.
Here's the recipe: Take the liver, lungs, and heart of a sheep and boil. Mince the meats and mix with chopped onions, toasted oatmeal, salt, pepper, and spices. Take one properly cleaned sheep's stomach. Stuff the cleaned stomach with the prepared contents. Sew up the stomach (leaving enough room for expansion to avoid a large messy explosion) and boil. Serve and eat. Lovely!
They didn't tell me what it was until after i ate but, they were so nervous and always saying "now if you don't like it, please don't eat it" Scott and Finlay, like true scotsmen love it. I don't think that is the actual recipe anyway. That's how it was in old times but, now it's just any meat in the cooked in the stomach of a lamb. Okay, fine, it's a disgusting idea. We didn't eat the outside.
Anyway, that's all to report. That, and I'm either going to Sicilia on Wednesday or in March. Times had to change because the family is going on vacation. I just can't decide when to go. March is so busy and February isn't but, next week is midterms for my online classes. Still, I think i'm going to study hard and go on Wednesday. I'll keep you posted.
You are one brave eater. I like to think that I can do "alternative" foods, but if the thought of escargot and haggis make me a little queasy, I loose. I accidentally ate octopus at a buffet, once, but that's all I've got ;)
ReplyDeleteYou're braver than me - I never ate haggis on my mission. Also just FYI 39 degrees C. = 102.2 degrees F.
ReplyDeletereally? wow! Maybe we should delete that comment before my mom sees
ReplyDelete