It’s Robbie Burns Day

Speaking of which, I spontaneously gave one of the characters in my current work in progress a love of haggis as a plot device. As a means of bringing a chapter to an end.

The general idea I was going with was to have both my main characters conclude the first phase of their quest by landing on an island that was near-paradise for one of them but the other was eager to flee as soon as humanly possible. The locale I ended up devising for this purpose is called ₪BRANSONVISTA (a name I formed by combining the names of two second-rate things, which I might change in later drafts), an island famous in-universe for its live bluegrass performances that almost always end in violence, and for the local culinary specialty: haggis balls on a stick. A favourite of one of my heroes. Who just happens to be the guy in charge of navigation. It was the haggis that lured him to this island. The other guy is more turned off by the violence than the haggis.

Said violence is not exactly like this, but vaguely similar.

The Soundtrack of SILVER BROWN

Food of the Gods

My supervisor asked me last week during lunch break about the last meal I would have if I were on death row. Not that I would actually do anything to warrant being on death row. A hypothetical question obviously, in light of the fact that capital punishment has been prohibited in Canada since 1976.

As for the answer, it was a traditional Scottish haggis supper with neeps and tatties. My supervisor reacted with disgust. I could tell right away she had never tried haggis in her life. It’s a trait shared by everyone I’ve ever met with similar sentiments towards the “great chieftain o the puddin’-race”. They have never tried it.

If meat was booze, haggis would be a carefully aged full-flavoured single-malt scotch, and bacon would be Mike’s Hard Lemonade.