Vegan Haggises of Glasgow, Ranked

GLASGOW, SCOTLAND — Covering United Nations local weather talks requires strolling. Lots of it. Enough to work up a serious urge for food.

The finest gas, in fact, could be native Scottish specialties. Not brown sauce or deep-fried Mars bars (although that really sounds nice proper about now). No, this a lot strolling requires a follow your ribs sort of meal: haggis.

But this being a local weather convention, any sort of haggis wouldn’t do. Raising sheep is without doubt one of the most carbon-intensive types of animal agriculture on the planet. Like cows, sheep are ruminants that belch methane along with carbon dioxide emissions tied with producing feed, elevating them, and transporting them to market.

It’s nice that haggis entails utilizing, let’s say, the much less fascinating elements of the animal. (Though as Molly famous in getting ready to put in writing this piece, she “loves to eat animal innards.”) For the uninitiated, haggis is made with suet, a fats that Wikipedia notes is discovered “around the loins and kidneys.” That suet is then blended with cooked organ meats, onions, and oats to type a kind of crumbly meat porridge, which is served inside a sheep abdomen (whoa) or sausage casing.

But to actually be good denizens of the world’s largest local weather talks, we knew we needed to stroll the stroll and eat veggie haggis. Given the presence of oats and the distinctive texture, haggis ought to be simpler to create a vegan model than many different meaty meals, however would the absence of the standard sheep components make veggie variations too boring? We charted out a strolling tour throughout the Glaswegian streets to pattern the vegan haggis 3 ways.

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Stop 1: The Glasvegan

Molly’s first impression: “Fuck!”

The digs: The Glasvegan is a popular stop in the city for vegan food, so we figured if anyone knew how to do veggie haggis well, it’d be these folks. The tiny cafe was packed with other customers and delicious sights and smells (including incredible-looking vegan cake slices). On this menu, haggis comes as fillings to bigger dishes, like sandwiches and crepes. The very nice staff person gently urged us to try a sandwich with vegan haggis, granny smith apples, vegan cheese and caramelized onions, but we insisted on getting our haggis sandwich dry and loose, on toasted sourdough, with no accoutrements or sauces. We were determined to keep our taste test pure. Also, it was our first stop. We were hungry and tired. There was no time to spare waiting for delicious carmalized onions.

How it tasted: Frankly, really good. The crumbly consistency was almost reminiscent of ground turkey, with a hearty backbone from the oats and barley we spotted in the mix. The warm haggis had incredible savory flavors. We tasted some white pepper and a touch of cloves that hung out long after the first chew of haggis. The toasted sourdough was a crunchy accompaniment. It would have probably been wise to add a sauce or cheese to give the whole sandwich a little moisture, but just going on taste of the haggis alone, this was a fantastic start. We would rate this “good before a Rangers FC match” to soak up the beer you’d inevitably consume in the stands and something that “wouldn’t make you feel sick after eating a shit ton of it.”

Stop 2: Stravaigin

Molly’s first impression: “Interesting.”

The digs: The restaurant’s website describes Stravaigin as “a trusted local sanctuary where great food and a friendly pint go hand in hand.” Who could say not a classically prepared haggis in a sanctuary? The restaurant portion was full so we nabbed seats at the cozy bar, where we ordered a plate of veggie haggis—served with the iconic Scottish neeps (mashed turnips) and tatties (mashed potatoes) accompaniment—and some pints.

How it tasted: This haggis had the same stick-to-your-ribs consistency as the Glasvegan’s and some of the same flavor, but the preparation left something to be desired. Traditional haggis is often boiled to heat it up before serving, and it seemed as if that was the preparation favored here. While it was moister than what we got at the Glasvegan, it was also less flavorful, and more closely resembled freshly-cooked barley with some carrots than anything else. Fake meat may be an acquired taste for some, but watery fake meat is an acquired taste for many. The texture and the flavor felt dialed down to a 4 compared to the Glasvegan’s vegan sheep’s offal was at 11. It also managed to be at once soggy and crunchy. We could see why haggis is served with the neeps and tatties—on this cold night, it definitely warmed us up.

Stop 3: The Kent Fish & Chip Shop

Molly’s first impression: “Oh, ho, ho.”

The digs: Our final stop was at a bit of an unexpected location—a takeout (or “takeaway,” in UK-speak) joint serving primarily fish and chips. Brian embarrassingly referred to it as a “choppy,” though frankly not loud enough to be chased out of town by locals. Surprisingly, this location had a huge vegan fast food menu, from vegan fish to vegan meatballs to a vegan burger. Our vegan haggis was served to us deep-fried, on a bed of hefty fries (chips, or chops to Brian), topped with vinegar and a generous serving of salt, then wrapped in paper for us to enjoy at the one picnic table outside. (Molly also ordered vegan black pudding out of morbid curiosity, as well as a separate order of regular haggis and black pudding, all of which were also deep-fried, because she is a masochist.)

How it tasted: Incredibly, this haggis was an in depth second to the Glasvegan model. It was bursting with taste and delightfully filling. We noticed seeds—maybe pepitas?—on this haggis, which was a primary for all three tastings. There additionally gave the impression to be millet, one other distinctive addition. The fried exterior truly helped to carry the haggis collectively, making it simpler to eat the crumbly, heat inside, and the salt and vinegar added a terrific zing. We took dwelling leftovers—we sensed that we may have some hearty energy within the days to come back at a convention that’s infamous for working into additional time—and have been fortunately consuming leftover veggie haggis sandwiches (with hummus and cucumber) since. It was additionally significantly better than the meat model on supply, with Molly declaring the non-vegan one “is going to make me ill” as a result of heaviness. (The vegan blood pudding was additionally nice. Would order once more!)