The Shed

If I can't eat it I don't want to know. Unless it gets me drunk.

Month: January, 2010

Ode to a haggis lasagne

Not being the type to have my nose stuck in a poetry book, Burns’ night (twenty-ten) was for me, always going to be an excuse to faff about in the kitchen. Mixed results ensued. Friends were encouraged to pen their own submissions in return for supper (mixed results, natch)…here are some of our efforts.

A haiku;
Would not eat this haggis, yeh?
A limmerick;
Haggis, the food that scream “can yer
eat me and prove you’re a man, yeah?”
Oh no! It offends
Then let’s make amends,
and turn it into a lasagne
And a super entry from a friend who unfortunately couldn’t make it due to work commitments. I sometimes wonder how much more she’d get done if she wasn’t dreaming up mythical food-beasts.
“Sadly, some people are not convinced that the haggis, a small, fluffy mammal with legs shorter on one side so he can walk on hills, really exists…therefore I have taken the opportunity to write a wee Haggis Limerick for you to read over the lasagne. So here we go
I Believe In The Haggis:
(To be read in a scottish accent)
From the land of kilts, bagpipes and whisky,
There comes a wee timorous beastie,
He runs through the highlands,
Left legs shorter than Right ones,
And with Tatties and Neeps he’s quite teeesty

The menu;
Neeps and Tatties Soup

Haggisagne, garlic bread

Deep Fried Battered Mars Bar with Vanilla Ice Cream
The soup was genuinely tasty, and entirely without the whiff of farty school vegetables I hoped to avoid. Good stuff though, admittedly, hardly splitting the atom so to speak.

Quick method; soften onions and garlic, add lots of fresh, finely chopped rosemary, 1/3 of a swede (chopped), vegetable stock, 3 large potatoes (chopped), simmer until the vegetables are tender. Blitz everything until smooth, season, then finished with a handful of grated cheddar….yum.

The haggisagne was not a dish for me it turns out, but was enjoyed by others at the table. An odd concoction recommended by a colleague, here’s how you do it. Or how I did it, anyway.

Simmer gently the wee beast in beef stock for 40 minutes, and remove from the pan to cool. Knock up a basic tomato sauce with the usual suspects. Toast his noble body with a wee dram, then crumble the haggis into the sauce.

Assemble as you would normally a lasagne, with bechamel and a cheesy topping, then bake in the oven for 45 minutes. Et, voila!…or however you might say it in Scottish.

Deep fried mars weren’t the taste sensation for which I was hoping, though I’m glad I gave it a shot. I realise that this blog will seem incomplete without a low quality, poorly composed image of battered, greasy confectionery, but we were a bit pissed by this point, and I’m sure you’ll get over it. With time, obviously.

The literary highlight was a two page epic, which will be scanned in and uploaded here so you can appreciate it in fully glory. The night was rounded off with a nip of the good stuff and the Scotch Mist episode of Garth Marenghi’s Darkplace. Braw, ken?


I started this blog with the words, “So this is blogging”, but it wasn’t; simply a spot of promotion to entice people to eat with us. I guess you could argue, what is blogging if not self promotion?, but I get an awful lot of pleasure reading about half-strangers’ culinary doings and I’m sure this is the spirit in which they write.

This page, instead of being a portal through which to ‘sell’ our nights, will now become a record of what we’ve done. We’ve tweaked our secret-supper-underground-eating-place a bit, whateveryouwannacallit. We now eat with everyone, and everything is charged at the cost price of ingredients.

Sunday 17th January 2010….a rough and ready Sunday lunch

As well as brand new pans, a stack of cookery books, and a machine that makes fancy foams, Father Christmas brought us a rudimentary beer making kit which we set about immediately with glee. The result; a sweet, lovely beer, as plentiful as it is tasty, but which would not be at its best for too much longer. We had about 30 pints left, which the more hedonistic among you may count as an good Saturday night, but we took the civilised route and threw open our doors for lunch.

The menu

Homemade, home-laid, veggie scotch eggs

Salsify & celeriac salad with boiled lemon aioli (thanks, Guardian mag!)

Tomato, feta and rocket salad

Winter ‘slaw

Roasted peppers and aubergines

Crusty bread, and butter

Roast porchetta, gratin dauphinoise, caramelised shallots, token vegetables, & gravy (roast portobello mushrooms for the veggies)

Stewed plums with whisky scented cream and toasted oats

Total charge; £10 a head – including as much beer as we could quaff

The veggie scotch eggs, though perfectly nice, were a little underwhelming, missing…well, missing the meat if I’m honest! But everything else was pretty darn delicious, served perhaps slightly clumsily but with affection and of course, plenty of homemade beer.

Massive thanks to those who came!

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