Tatties and neeps

Yes, it's Burns night and in a few hours the tatties and neeps will be cuddling their fluffy loveliness up to the gravelly haggis, with a baby beet or two and a nice glass (or three) of malt.

But it's the haggis that gets all the glory. Burns never wrote an ode to the potato, yet where would we be without them? I thought it would be a challenge to try and make the pre-cooked trimmings in any way interesting. And, for sure, it was.