Husband was super excited about the playdate today, as was I – we had a whiskey tasting. Tasting turned into drinking, of course, and the boys kept themselves occupied most of the time so we could concentrate on the important things. I wanted to bring something more than cookies, so I asked Husband what food would go well with whiskey, and his immediate response was Hhhhgggghhhhaggis. Coincidentally, we had a can of that shit in the pantry. The label recommended preparing it with whiskey, perfect!
The kids immediately set to dismantling our friends’ clean house and Husband read out the contents of the can. Good manners prevailed and we all had a small helping. I thought it smelt like a can of braised steak and onions, which I didn’t mind eating, and Husband and I discussed whether that would be similar to corned beef and hash. Anyhoo, the haggis had a nasty livery aftertaste, so none of us were impressed. Husband may try and get his hands on some blood sausage for our next family outing, to really cement the relationship.
“It can make a turd,” echoed in the kitchen. I’m still laughing inside. It could indeed, make a turd, and also many turd metaphors and puns. It really wasn’t that bad, until the end, but eating it from a can is probably cheating. No gut casing and extra offal don’t make for an authentic meal. Ralph.
But the turd comment was certainly apt, and got me thinking about so many things that are good for making turds, but not necessarily much else.
That liver stew I made, totes nasty. I was trying not to be wasteful, considering the size of the turkey and its considerable offal inside. I was thinking about vitamins and minerals, and not about eating those nasty things. In the end, I couldn’t palate it to even make the aforementioned turd.
Smoked salmon. Go ahead, call me crazy, but I dont like it.
The risotto I tried to make in the slow cooker, that was good for making the aforementioned. But it wasn’t really a proper risotto, so I’m not going to try that again.
Luckily there haven’t been many kitchen disasters so most our turds have been made on purpose, not out of obligation, but we won’t be making any more with haggis.