Writing Prompt #6

 

 After years mostly dormant, I am attempting to work myself into being a writer again. To that end, I did a simple Google search for "writing prompts" and chose the first link listed, which included a total of 20 prompts. My goal is to write from a new prompt each day, giving myself 10 minutes before calling "hands up, utensils down" (so to speak), and then posting the unedited result in this blog. The post below is today's entry.

 

"What's the most adventurous thing you've eaten?"

 

To paraphrase Charlie in “So I Married and Axe Murderer,” Scottish cuisine is based on a dare. A former picky eater, I tried several dishes during my brief Scotland visit in 1995 that I probably would’ve shunned under different circumstances. But I was twenty-three and overseas, so I tried black pudding, a couple of other breakfast meats I couldn’t identify, and—eventually—haggis.

 

I had never seen haggis before then, though I had heard enough about it (“heart, intestines, lungs, boiled in a wee sheep’s bladder…good for what ails ya!”) to be a bit grossed out by the idea. However, our group was scheduled to attend a “Scottish Feast” our last night before returning to London, for which a formal marching out of the haggis was the main event. Our bus driver/tour guide/sharer of spirits gave us a rousing pep talk when we collectively voiced our disgust: “Oh, what you do, see, is mix up a bit of haggis with your tatties. It’s beautiful.” I wasn’t totally convinced, but I followed his advice one the haggis was plated, generously stirring my potatoes into the vaguely meatloaf-esque mound. As the lighting was dim in the supper hall, I could nearly dissociate what my brain told me was in front of me from what I saw and tasted.

 

And what I tasted was comfort food, almost like something my mom would’ve made for us. Beautiful.