More on Haggis

Mackie’s Haggis & Cracked Black Pepper potato crisps were launched in 2009 as one of our first limited edition flavours. We thought it was important to find some new really Scottish flavours to tempt you into trying a new range of Scottish crisps. They have a real taste of Haggis with peppery spices along with the fresh potato taste.

But since then, to our slight surprise – you have established Haggis flavoured crisps as a daily favourite and not just a novelty that you might try once or stock up with for special Scottish celebrations like Hogmanay or Burns night. It is also proving popular around the world – with one customer referring to “the haggis halo effect” on our flavour range!

Haggis is delicious, fun and interesting. Here are some facts borrowed from the master haggis producers at www.macsween.co.uk

Macsween sells an extra 300 tonnes of haggis every year to satisfy the demands of Burns Night. The world haggis hurling record stands at 180 feet, 10 inches (for a 1.5lb haggis). Haggis freezes really well. (Despite that fact, we do not plan to make a new Haggis flavoured ice cream – we have tasted it!)

Mackie’s enjoyed being sponsor of the Scotsman Haggis Hunt - a bit of fun where haggis hunters around the world try to spot a haggis on one of the ten live webcams.

In 2011 we invited you to create an Ode to the Haggis Crisp, preferably in Burn’s Style so that you can add a formal address to your Haggis Pack of crisps. We received several impressive entries.

from the very short –

"Wee scrumptious, haggis, potato snack,
O, what a flavour's within thy pack!" - from Irene, West Sussex

And the winning effort came from Steve Grant in Mid Glamorgan -

Fair fa' your sweet wee packet
I would nay want to lack it.
The rolling hills did inspire you
The idea is old, the flavour new.
The devil takes the hindmost when the hunger drives,
To eat your wholesome self I'll need no knives.
The tattie with it's haggis flavour,
It feeds the appetite wi it's savour.
Upon the amber spud that's fried,
Is a tasty treasure you should never hide.
A haggis over the hill would sneer
At lesser beings I'd have with beer.
The Mackies crisp trembles with spice,
A hint, that all, a taste so nice.
With pepper black it adds to taste,
Not one crumb of it I'd waste,
I salute you Haggis Crisp with this prayer,
There's none so beautiful and none so fair.

For those of you who may not know the real Burns Address to a Haggis - here it is - along with a translation which we have borrowed from www.worldburnsclub.com

Address To A Haggis
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 o' a grace
As lang's my arm.

The groaning trencher there ye fill,
Your hurdies 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.

His knife see rustic Labour dight,
An' cut you up wi' ready sleight,
Trenching your gushing entrails bright,
Like ony ditch;
And then, O what a glorious sight,
Warm-reekin, rich!

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 lyke drums;
Then auld Guidman, maist like to rive,
"Bethankit!" 'hums.

Is there that owre his French ragout
Or olio that wad staw a sow,
Or fricassee wad mak her spew
Wi' perfect sconner,
Looks down wi' sneering, scornfu' view
On sic a dinner?

Poor devil! see him ower his trash,
As feckless as a wither'd rash,
His spindle shank, a guid whip-lash,
His nieve a nit;
Thro' bloody flood or field to dash,
O how unfit!

But mark the Rustic, haggis fed,
The trembling earth resounds his tread.
Clap in his walie nieve a blade,
He'll mak it whissle;
An' legs an' arms, an' heads will sned,
Like taps o' thrissle.

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 gratefu' prayer,
Gie her a haggis!

The Translation
Fair is your honest happy face
Great chieftain of the pudding race
Above them all you take your place
Stomach, tripe or guts
Well are you worthy of a grace
As long as my arm

The groaning platter there you fill
Your buttocks like a distant hill
Your skewer would help to repair a mill
In time of need
While through your pores the juices emerge
Like amber beads

His knife having seen hard labour wipes
And cuts you up with great skill
Digging into your gushing insides bright
Like any ditch
And then oh what a glorious sight
Warm steaming, rich

Then spoon for spoon
They stretch and strive
Devil take the last man, on they drive
Until all their well swollen bellies
Are bent like drums
Then, the old gent most likely to rift (burp)
Be thanked, mumbles

Is there that over his French Ragout
Or olio that would sicken a pig
Or fricassee would make her vomit
With perfect disgust
Looks down with a sneering scornful opinion
On such a dinner

Poor devil, see him over his trash
As week as a withered rush (reed)
His spindle-shank a good whiplash
His clenched fist.the size of a nut.
Through a bloody flood & battle field to dash
Oh how unfit

But take note of the strong haggis fed Scot
The trembling earth resounds his tread
Clasped in his large fist a blade
He'll make it whistle
And legs and arms & heads he will cut off
Like the tops of thistles

You powers who make mankind your care
And dish them out their meals
Old Scotland wants no watery food
That splashes in dishes
But if you wish her grateful prayer
Give her a haggis!

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