I went to a Burns supper a few weeks ago. I told my friend Gareth about it a few nights ago and he asked me what the hell a Burns supper was. I laughed, because I assumed that he was joking. But he wasn’t. When you grow up in Scotland, you just assume that people are joking when they say they don’t know who Robert Burns was. I mean, he’s one of our national treasures, along with whisky, golf, haggis and Ally McCoist.

For those of you who truly don’t know, Robert Burns was a poet. A Scottish poet. A brilliant Scottish poet. He died young, after getting too drunk, falling into a ditch, and spending the night there in the rain. And every year on his birthday, his friends would have a big party for him, and eat his favourite foods (haggis) and drink his favourite drinks (whisky) and read his poems. And the tradition just carried on. Hence the Burns supper.

Of course I was in Los Angeles, and the Burns supper was hosted by an Englishman with a Scottish father. It was also attended by lots of Scots (and Scotts, who drank too much whisky and spent all the next day recovering. This is why I volunteer to drive.). So throughout the night we ate a five course Scottish meal, while everybody drank whisky and read Rabbie Burns’ poetry with vigor (the Scots) and embarrassment (the Americans). And it was a good time all around. But even with the Scots and the poetry, the highlight of my night was the food. Cockaleekie soup, neeps and tatties, haggis, beef with mashed parsnips, it was all perfect. And of all of it, the parsnips stayed with me for days. My mind would drift back to them when I was mopping the floors or washing the dishes and as soon as market day rolled around, I wandered off to find some, to recreate its deliciousness.

Because it’s that time of year, here’s my favourite of Burns’ poems:

Tae a mouse

And because it’s that time of year, here’s my new favourite way to eat parsnips:

Parsnip Mash

1 lb parsnips

1 stick butter

1 cup cream

1 tsp salt

pepper, to taste

Peel and chop the parsnips. Boil in salted water for 20 minutes, until a knife inserted comes out very quickly. Press through a ricer, add the butter, cream and salt, and serve.

Check out the Hearth and Soul Blog hop right here. Doo doo dee dum dee doo doo dee dum daaaaah.

Related Posts :

Essentially...

Elderflower cordial

Crying over smoked milk

Moroccan mallow salad