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Gung Haggis Fat Choy! Huh?! In 2007 our president,
Bill McFadden, brought Toddish McWong's trademarked production of
"Gung Haggis Fat Choy" to Seattle. Billed as "A
Celebration of Chinese New Year and Robbie Burns' Dinner", the laughter-filled evening included haggis, a delicious Chinese
dinner, Pipes & Drums (traditional and fusion style), sing-alongs (including "When Asian/Scottish Eyes are Smiling" and
"My Haggis/Chow Mein Lies Over the Ocean"), Poems, The Address tae the Haggis (delivered in rap to an enthusiastic and responsive
crowd) and Auld Lang Syne sung in both Mandarin Chinese and English. Gung Haggis Fat Choy, II came off with just a few
glitches (see the report below). We should have it all figured out by Gung Haggis Fat Choy, III in 2009!
Please click here to view photos in our Gallery from the '07 event in Seattle.
Please click here for a sample of "Toddish McWong's" Haggis Rap!
Please click here for additional information on Todd Wong's annual Gung Haggis Fat Choy held in Vancouver, BC.
Report on Gung Haggis Fat Choy II, 2008
Sunday, February 24th 2008, The Caledonian & St. Andrew's Society of Seattle presented Toddish McWong's tm Gung Haggis Fat Choy-II, 2008! Our much awaited, second annual
Chinese/Scottish Cross-Cultural event celebrating Chinese New Year and the 249th Birthday of Robert Burns.
We were very fortunate to have Red McWilliams "America's Celt", and a master showman, start
our entertainment. Emcee Todd Wong (Toddish MacWong), and Joe McDonald came down from Vancouver, B.C. to play and perform their inimitable
"Haggis Rap". Master David Leong’s Martial Arts & Lion Dance School gave dramatic performances. The
Northwest Junior Pipe Band thrilled all with their rousing renditions. Please
see our Calendar of Events page (and the NWJPB website) for details
on their Spring fundraiser. The Band is very close to their goal of attending
the World Championships in Scotland this Summer. The Washington Chinese
Youth Orchestra introduced us to their beautiful instruments and music. Please see our
Calendar of Events page for details on their June 22nd concert at Meany Hall. Susan Burk teamed her amazing Cape
Breton fiddling with the talents of Don Scobie, piper, and Ben Rudd, percussionist.
Lensey Namioka, gifted author, read from one of her many books “Half and Half”. We were all charmed by the wee dancers of Melody Xie’s Melody Dance Group.
Contact Info for our Featured Entertainers:
Red McWilliams, "America's Celt"
http://home.flash.net/~celtsong/
Master David Leong's Martial Arts & Lion Dance School
http://www.belltownmartialarts.com
Northwest Junior Pipe Band
http://www.nwjpb.org
Washington Chinese Youth Orchestra
Director Warren Chang via chinamusic@comcast.net
Susan Burk
http://susanburkeonline.com
(note: Susan's beautiful website is currently under construction so
you may need to be patient)
Don Scobie
http://www.bagpiperdon.com
Ben Rudd
Lensey Namioka
http://www.lensey.com
Melody Dance Group
Melody Xie, Director
http://www.melodyinstitute.org
We are already planning for next year’s Gung Haggis Fat Choytm III. This year our “no-host” bar turned
into a “no-host-no-booze” bar, but next year we promise to remember to pick up a liquor permit! Looking forward to seeing you in 2009!
The antique postcard reprinted above is from the delightful illustrated book
"The Deltiology* of Robert Burns". The book may be ordered from the equally delightful, Dumfries-based publisher, Creedon
Publications. Their website is www.creedonpublications.com
*Deltiology = A collection of postcards
"Have you got the guts for haggis?"
The following article, entitled "Have you got the guts for haggis?" was written by Mark Rahner,
Seattle Times staff reporter, after attending our annual Burns Night Supper. It was published in the January 30th 2003 edition
of The Seattle Times newspaper.
In the aftermath of Burns Night on Jan. 25, you'll hear this word - often with the
disbelief and revulsion associated with a "Fear Factor" stunt: haggis. But what are the facts about this enigma wrapped in
a riddle wrapped in a kilt wrapped in a stomach bag? And what secret test did we conduct with it on our own employees? A small
but growing number of Americans partake of the Scottish soul food ritual. Born in hard times, it roughly equates to other
cultural food-dares such as lutefisk or chitlins or menudo. It's a culinary diversity-tolerance test. It's hard to find in
the United States. And it's this: A sheep's heart, liver and lungs minced, with suet, onions, oatmeal and spices, all boiled
in the animal's stomach (which is not eaten). The recipe can vary, and there's even vegetarian haggis - which may seem even
stranger than the veggie dishes made to look like meat with fake grill marks. It's also nowhere near as awful as it sounds,
says Harry McAlister, whose Caledonian and St. Andrew's Society of Seattle held its own traditional Burns Night, a celebration
of Scotland's greatest poet, Robert Burns. "I think people are surprised that it's not a bad taste," McAlister says. "It's
really a combination of meat and oatmeal." That taste is often described as liver-like and strong, with the consistency of
meatloaf or hash. It's traditionally served with tatties (mashed potatoes) and 'neeps (mashed turnips) and washed down with
Scotch whiskey - which either kills or augments the taste, depending on whom you ask. The food represents the night, which
represents the country - although that isn't the only time it's consumed, and plenty of chip shops in Scotland offer haggis
'n' chips. Here's how it went down, so to speak, at McAlister's gathering and many others: First, a cocktail hour. A little
fortification never hurts before facing the thing. Then the haggis is "piped in." Not oozing from a vent, but preceded by
a bagpiper and accompanied by kilted swordsmen. Then a speaker reads Burns' 1786 "Address to the Haggis," and slices the steaming
thing open at the appropriate line. There's a toast to the haggis, a speech in Burns' memory, a lighthearted toast to "the
lassies" and a cheeky response from them, often followed by song and dance. About 190 people packed the Mountaineers Club
for that event, while 10 percent of that number attended a private Burns Night soiree at the home of local food writer and
poet Shannon Borg. She has Scottish ancestry and was looking for a good night to get friends together for a Scotch tasting.
So why not bring on the haggis? But, unable to track down the genuine article for her first Burns Supper, Borg, 37, says,
"I wimped out and made a vegetarian haggis." It's hard to find quality sheep lungs these days. She cobbled one together -
a vaggis, if you will - with walnuts, pecans, almonds, oats, onions, mushrooms, and a few other ingredients, using cheesecloth
in place of a stomach to hold the glob together. "It was really good, actually," Borg said. But: "Several people wanted the
real thing. A couple of them were really disappointed." As for Burns' poem, Borg said, "I only read a couple of stanzas. First
of all, it's written in dialect, and I don't know what half the words are." See for yourself. Here's the crucial portion,
at which the object is ritually sliced open: "His knife see rustic Labour dight, An cut you up wi ready slight, Trenching
your gushing entrails bright, Like onie ditch; And then, O what a glorious sight, Warm-reekin, rich!" So where can you find
one of these elusive reeking, rich things gushing with bright entrails? Seattle's Finest Exotic Meats has sold python, cobra,
rattlesnake, buffalo, ostrich and kangaroo. But never haggis. "I let that one go to anyone else who wants to taste it," says
owner Russ McCurdy. Even though he says at this time of year, "everybody and their grandmother is calling for haggis." He
says, "It's one of those things where they're using so many animal parts, it's really an acquired taste." You can't acquire
it from its homeland, either. According to the USDA, which regulates imported meat products, haggis isn't allowed into the
United States because of restrictions tied to mad cow disease. As with Cuban cigars, there are rumors of haggis-smuggling.
("Drop the haggis and put your hands above your head!") Lamb Etc. in Roseburg, Ore., may be the only American business that
makes legal, USDA-regulated haggis. (It's online at http://oatmealsavage.com/, which sells Scottish and Irish imports.) Run by Charles Lamb - yes, it's his real name - the company has sold haggis for
about six years and supplies McAlister's group on Burns Night. For $5.59 a pound plus shipping, Lamb will mail frozen, vacuum-sealed
haggis in a sturdy, refrigerated container. "I have customers all over the United States," he says, reading city names from
a big pile of invoices. "Every year, my sales seem to have doubled, and this year is no exception." A former museum director
now approaching 60, Lamb explains, "My granddad was a butcher, so I was used to eating organ meats." Years later, Lamb started
making haggis for a pipe band that he played in, and the labor-intensive endeavor grew into a business. Lamb says the USDA
won't allow him to use lungs in his haggis, but the real flavor comes from the heart and liver, anyway. The rest of the ingredients
are traditional - including the stomach it's boiled in. And, he adds, "I do have a secret ingredient that I don't tell anyone
about." What's left to keep secret in a dish comprised of sheep guts? Lamb won't say. And he won't be left holding the bag.
You must put the bag and its contents in perspective: "Haggis has this strange reputation, and you have to admit we haven't
dissuaded it. We've aggravated it," he says. "But it's no different from any other sausage. The difference is the casing that
is used: instead of the intestine, it's the stomach." And so, Lamb Etc. also sells haggis links. As a public service, we ordered
some haggis from Lamb Etc. and served it up to Seattle Times employees in our test kitchen. Except we didn't tell them what
it was before they ate it. We told them it was a dish called "Country Loaf." Ethically, this was far less insidious than,
say, the U.S. government testing LSD on its own soldiers. And it was important that they went into it with open minds. While
boiling up the sausage-thing, home economist CeCe Sullivan sent the following e-mail dispatch: "Oh my God. The smell is something
else. I had to put a pan of apple juice and whole spices on to simmer so I wouldn't throw up." Several minutes later, she
wrote: "I've added a scented candle and am now eating crackers and drinking Coke. I've only felt this way twice. When I was
forced to eat creamed corn as a child, and did throw up on the kitchentable. And when I drank wheatgrass at a juice bar."
Test subjects were not made privy to that information. The "Country Loaf" was served with small pieces of toast, to spread
it on like pate. This was the typical initial exchange: "Country Loaf ... what's in it?" "Lamb." "Aah, lamb." Nodding heads.
"It's not so countrified," one employee said, chewing. Urban Loaf, then. The verdict? She liked it and had seconds. Other
reactions were mixed. Two people nearly got to the door of the test kitchen with their samples on paper plates, then bailed
without taking a bite, complaining about the aroma. Several described it as "spongy." On a scorecard slip, one subject rated
the taste and texture of the haggis 2 out of 5, but gave it a 5 for "visual appeal," leaving this comment: "I got a fishy
aftertaste. Weird texture. Spongy." Fishy? Another subject said, "I thought it was great. Like party food." The high rating
for visual appeal was puzzling, because haggis can resemble a lumpy plate of tweed. At any rate, the experiment was a success
- in that OSHA was not called in when employees learned what they had eaten. Scottish culture has always permeated America,
from Burns' "Auld Lang Syne" to the Bay City Rollers. But with "Highlander," "Braveheart" and "Shrek" boosting the profile
much more in recent years, TV commercials for McHaggis can't be far off. What music could they use? Easy. Just turn to the
Godfather of Soul: "Papa's Got a Brand New Bag."
Note: We have also provided a link to Charles Lamb's haggis website
under our aptly named "Related Links" page.
"The Last Sabbath on Strathnaver Before the Burnings"
a poignant poem by Annie Mackay, Scotland: 1883
'Twas not the beacon light of war,
Nor yet the slogan cry,
That chilled each heart, and blanched each cheek,
In the country of Mackay,
And made them march with weary feet,
As men condemned to die.
Ah! Had it been their country's foe
That they were called to brave,
How loudly would the Piobrach sound,
How proud their "bratach" wave;
How joyfully each man would march,
Tho' marching to his grave!
No! 'Twas a cruel, sad behest,
An alien chief's command,
Depriving them of house and home,
Their country and their land;
Dealing a death-blow at their hearts,
Bending the "strong right hand".
Slowly and sadly, down the glen
They took their weary way,
The sun was shining overhead
Upon that sweet spring day,
And earth was throbbing with the life
of the great glad month of May.
The deer were browsing on the hills
They looked with wondering eyes;
The birds were singing their songs of praise,
The smoke curled to the sky,
And the river added its gentle voice
To nature's melody
No human voice disturbed the calm,
No answering smile was there,
For men and women walked along,
Mute pictures of despair;
This was the last Sabbath
They would join in praise and prayer.
And men were there whose brows still bore
The trace of many scars,
Who oft their vigil kept with death
Beneath the midnight stars,
Where'er their country needed men,
Brave men to fight their wars.
And grey-haired women, tall and strong,
erect and full of grace,
Most mothers of a noble clan,
A brave and stalwart race,
And many a maiden young and fair,
With pallid, tear-stained face.
They met unpon the river's brink,
By the Church so old and grey,
They could not sit within its walls
Upon this sunny day;
The heavens above would be their dome,
And hear what they would say.
The preacher stood upon the bank,
His face was pale and thin,
And as he looked upon his flock,
His eyes with tears were dim,
And they awhile forgot their grief,
And fondly looked at him.
His text: "Be faithful unto death,
And I will give to thee
A crown of life that will endure
To all Eternity."
And he pleaded God's dear promises,
So rich, so full, so free;
Then said, "Ah friends, an evil day
Has come upon our glen,
How sheep and deer are held of more
Account than living men;
It is a lawless law that yet
All nations will condemn.
I would not be a belted knight
Nor yet a wealthy lord,
Nor would I, for a coronet,
Have said the fatal word,
That made a devastation worse
than famine, fire or sword.
The path before each one of us
Is long, and dark, and steep;
I go away a shepard lone,
Without a flock to keep,
And you without a shepard go
My well beloved sheep.
But God, our Father, will not part
With one of us, I know,
Tho' in the cold wide world our feet
May wander to and fro.
If we, like children cling to Him
With us He'll ever go.
Farewell my people, fare ye well,
We part to meet no more,
Until we meet before the throne,
On God's Eternal shore,
Where parting will not break the heart.
Farewell for evermore."
He sat upon the low green turf,
His head with sorrow bowed;
Men sobbed upon their father's graves,
And women wept aloud,
And there was not a tearless eye
In that heart-stricken crowd.
The tune of 'Martyrdom' was sung
By lips with anguish pale,
And, as is rose upon the breeze
It swelled into a wail,
And, like a weird death coronach,
It sounded in the vale:
Beannaicht' gu robh gu siorruidh buan
Ainm glormhor uasal fein
Lionadh a ghloir gach uile thir
Amen agus Amen.
(Blessed be His glorious name forever
May His Glory fill the whole earth
Amen and Amen.)
And echo lingering on the hills
Gave back the sad refrain.
Methinks there never yet was heard
Such a pathetic cry
As rose from that dear, hallowed spot
Unto the deep blue sky,
'Twas the death wail of a broken clan -
The noble clan Mackay.
And e'er another Sabbath came,
The people were no more
Within their glens, but they were strewn
Like wrack upon the shore,
And the smoke of each burning huse
Ascends to Heaven for evermore.
The text given, Psalm sung, are all as it happened.
In a short time after a crow built her nest in the deserted church.
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| Landscape of the River Naver courtesy of Clan Mackay USA |
Please click here to read more eyewitness accounts of the Highland Clearances in Strathnaver from ElectricScotland.com
Additional history of the Clearances, and photos.
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