Third Degree Burns

I believe that the Scottish people will vote "Yes" in the forthcoming vote on breaking away from the rest of the United Kingdom.

The outcome of the vote from those domicile across the border or in exile in just about every other nation on the planet is far from certain and I am no nearer an inkling after following the TV debates and daily media coverage and commentary.

I have come to support this prediction of mine for the sole reason that you cannot buy a proper Haggis from the main British supermarkets.

It is as though the authentic product is being hoarded in readiness for the party to celebrate independence from, let's face it, London.

So what is on offer on the shelving usually reserved for Haggis amongst the sausages, black pudding and other offal goods?

It was only after returning home grasping the last two Haggis, Haggi, Haggises from the largest Tesco in the city that I happened to take note of the specific ingredients. I don't know why I was overcome with an urge to study the ingredients because the packaging bore the national Scottish emblem of a thistle, hearkened from a manufacturing location in Scotland and was clearly labelled as Scottish Haggis.

I have Scots ancestors and alongside the handed down tales of Rob Roy, Robert the Bruce, Bonnie Prince Charlie, the Killiekrankie leaping soldier and other great epic stories is the mantra that Haggis is made from bits of sheep. To be more specific, sheeps pluck which is the combination of heart, liver and lungs mixed with stock and with added onion, oatmeal, suet, spices and salt.

The defining characteristic is all of these encased in a sheep stomach, if not the very one of the donor sheep in the first place. So why did my Halls Haggis call itself just that when all of the ingredients normally sourced from a sheep came from a pig?

I went through a whole range of emotions at discovering this plot and conspiracy. There was horror at the thought of pig offal, anger at what could be an elaborate scam at the expense of us English and then guilt at the thought of betraying my kin folk by falling for the elaborate hoax. Apparently it is a genuine product but in my research on the history of the haggis I have not come across one single reference to the use of pork.

There is a huge amount of writing on the subject which is to be expected for not just a national delicacy but also the cultural heritage associated with it from Robert Burn's addresses and odes. He described the haggis as the "Great Chieftain o'the puddin-race!". I was brought up to celebrate the Burns Supper in true style with neeps and tatties (turnip and potato) although it was rarely sold other than in the run up to January 25th or if any were left over close to their sell by date after the event. The proper sheep based Haggis is truly delicious with that distinctive and unique nutty, savoury and hot spiced taste and the year would drag around painfully slowly.

The commercial success of the product eventually made it an all year round line in the larger sales outlets and I have sought it out at least four times a year to celebrate family anniversaries and commemorate those who have passed.

Circumstances, being twenty minutes before sunday closing time, meant that I had little choice on where to buy my haggis but I did manage to get to a Tesco and Asda only to find the exact same pig offal offering. It had to do.

As it turns out the imitation haggis was not too bad at all meeting all of the criteria of taste but with a still nagging realisation that I had sold my ancestry for the paltry sum of £2.80. I dare not admit that the thing was also on special offer of buy one get one free, but then again that will certainly have appealed to those with a frugal nature and may have elicited a smile from some amongst my fellow Clansmen.