{"id":189,"date":"2011-02-13T17:23:35","date_gmt":"2011-02-13T22:23:35","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.knitbot.org\/blog\/2011\/02\/13\/not-awful-offal\/"},"modified":"2011-02-13T17:23:35","modified_gmt":"2011-02-13T22:23:35","slug":"not-awful-offal","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.knitbot.org\/blog\/2011\/02\/13\/not-awful-offal\/","title":{"rendered":"Not Awful Offal!"},"content":{"rendered":"

Haggis<\/a>, that
\nis.  <\/p>\n

\"haggis\"<\/p>\n

I’ve heard haggis described as “a sheep, turned inside out”. 
\nTraditionally consisting of all the bits of a sheep you weren’t going
\nto serve up in recognizable form (the “offal”) made into a sausage and
\ncooked in the
\nsheep’s stomach.  Well, you asked.    And before
\nyou get disgusted, set
\ndown that forkful of breakfast sausage you have in hand, and give it a
\ngood, hard think:  its ingredients aren’t a lot different.<\/p>\n

Anyway, I’ve enjoyed haggis from and in Scotland.  Sadly, it’s not
\nthe sort of thing that is easily importable, anywhere, labeled as
\nfood.  As I’ve only ever managed to get to Scotland once, it
\noccurred to me that the only way to get a haggis fix would be to figure
\nout how to make it myself…  though I drew the line at having to
\ncook it in a sheep’s stomach.<\/p>\n

Pictured above is Haggis the Second.  Haggis the First was
\npleasant, but really more of a  lamb hash — made with ground lamb
\nand rolled oats, it tasted far more of, well, lamb than my recollection
\nof something slightly chewy, spicy, and oaty.  I decided I needed
\nto tackle the oat problem, as well as introduce some of the more
\n“intense” bits of meat (offal).<\/p>\n

First up, the oats.  And, here’s a visual aid:<\/p>\n

\"oats\"<\/p>\n

\nClockwise, from the <\/span>top
\nleft:  <\/p>\n