CIA Chief By Haggis Battered


TD tipping the hag to you.

It's a glorious Bank Holiday on my wee patch of heather today.

The savage purple sage reminds me of a strange true story which I can neither confirm or deny because I was there. In the bloom.


Sitting in the grand living room of the Sultan of Berwick upon Tweed, that Ancient Scots town, in swept the mystery visitor hisself.

Fresh off a roaring highland tour in his spiffy Austin Healey 3000, he whistled his way past the silent servants into the main hall where we received him with appropriate hairs and braces.

Silver haired, bronzed and lithe, he cut a steely, yet modest pose.

Sharp as a stack of pickled herring.

And so with his arrival...

The Sultan, tugged his forelock and bowed his bed.

And did him homage. (After all, he was SEA AYE A).

In fact, if my befuddled memory serves me at all...

Maybe even a station chief?

Maybe not.

Yet what was he doing in these fair, yet inconsequential shores?

And visiting this palatial border pile among all others?

I can't say.

Official sneakers and all that.

That said...

When asked by yon American beguiler of beguilers...

"Tell me Tam, what really is a haggis?"

In response,

I let him have both barrels...

"Sire, you shall seethe him for yourself. Borwick bring in lunch!"

A click of fingers and the poor wee beastie was hasted straight in to him on a silver platter, sizzling away merrily.

The Sultan and I checked it over with our personal bodyguard and concurred all was good to go.

The aroma. The sheen. The crispiness.

And so we tucked in...

Battered haggis one an all.

Twas a most pleasing repast.


Not more pleasing than knowing that even silver haired Nigel of the world famous SEA i AAA, believed that the beast wrapped so lovingly in golden batter for his peculiar visit...

Had been shot that very morning.

It's three legs plucked deftly from it's plump, hairy body, roasted with loving finesse and finished with the very batter from heaven.

I feel sorry for the haggis wifie and bairns though...

After all,

Who will bring they young ones up noo?

Till next time.

Tam D Matheson

PS Want a slice of royal Haggis fit for a Sultan? (Even a Fife one, sly enough to fool clever spies?).

Then this Haggis Chieftain is perfect, and possibly even the best Haggis in all of Scotland.

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