We are concerned here with the literary legacy, celebrated worldwide to this day. Especially by Scots. Especially in January.

This is the season that brings the annual Burns suppers: birthday celebrations highlighted by bagpipes and Highland dancing and, of course, recitation of some of his poetry.

(Coincidentally, January also begins with millions of non-Scots around the world paying tribute to Burns, although most are likely not aware of it. Did you know that he wrote “Auld Lang Syne”?)

Although Burns’ actual birthday is not until the 25th, over the next couple of weekends, you can help celebrate, and get a literal and literary taste of Scotland, at the Argyle Restaurant, 212 Kearny Ave., Kearny. The Argyle has been hosting the suppers for some 15 years, attracting an estimated 2,000 attendees annually. Not, we should note, all on the same night.

There is no cover charge to attend the supper. You order from the regular Argyle menu – which besides the famous fish and chips features a variety of seafood along with Scottish favorites like meat pies, shepherd’s pie, bridies, Scotch eggs, black pudding. And pierogies. Then you relax and enjoy yourself.

The supper begins with a recitation of Burns’ “Selkirk Grace”:

Some hae meat and canna eat,

And some wad eat that want it;

But we hae meat and we can eat,

And sae the Lord be thanket.

Then the pipers play a selection of tunes and dancer Linzee Duncan entertains with the Highland fling. Afterward, she gives a free lesson to anyone who would like to learn the basic steps.

What comes next is the centerpiece of the supper. The pipers return, leading a solemn procession. Borne upon a platter is what the Argyle aptly describes as “Scotland’s most famous and mysterious delicacy.” The haggis.

Said haggis is placed upon a table at the head of the room, there to be paid poetic tribute and then cut open with much flashing of dirks. But all ths is nothing without the attendant recitation of Burns’ own “Address to the Haggis.” Much credit we give to Argyle co-owner Jock Nisbet, who delivered the ode the night we were there – all eight stanzas in 18th century Scots dialect.

The address begins:

Fair fa’ your honest, sonsie [jolly] face, Great chieftain o’ the pudding-race!

For some reason, the thing is called a pudding, though it looks more like a sausage on steroids.

Free samples of haggis are offered during dinner. I was told that if you like liver, you will like haggis. In my case, this is not true. However, it must be a taste that can be acquired since a full haggis dinner is offered on the Argyle menu.  I was also told that a wee dram of whisky makes the haggis more appetizing. I had a couple of wee drams, and that’s not true either.

I will let the actual haggis recipe remain a mystery to my readers, although I have provided an accompanying haggis fact sheet.

If you’d like to try haggis for yourself, or just have a heckuva good time at a Burns supper –  there’s lots more pipe music and poetry readings and many toasts –  you have until the end of the month.

This upcoming suppers scheduled as follows: at 6:30 and 8 p.m. on Friday, Jan. 15 and 22, and Saturday, Jan. 16 and 23; at 4 p.m. and 6 p.m. on Sunday, Jan. 17 and 24; and a single seating at 7 p.m. on Monday, Jan. 25. Call (201) 991-3900 for reservations, which are “strongly recommended.”

Joan Nisbet, Jock’s wife, noted that one year, a man calling for a reservation inquired, “What time will Mr. Burns be appearing?”

She answered, “I hope he won’t, because of Mr. Burns shows up, I’m going to have an empty restaurant.”

The Haggis

The delicacy served at the Burns supper must be imported from Scotland, since the wild haggis is found only there. Haggii raised domestically are nowhere near as tasty.

A small, furry, rodentlike animal, the haggis is native to the Highlands. Rather rotund and about the size of a small groundhog, it is born with the legs on one side of its body shorter than those on the other. This is the result of eons of evolution. Because it dwells on the sides of mountains, having short uphill legs and long downhill ones makes grazing easier.

Alas, when food is scarce, the haggis is forced to descend to the flat Lallands, where it moves with an awkward lopsided gait. Unable to run from predators, it is easily caught and turned into pudding.

– K. Z.