The United States will shortly lift its 21-year ban on Scotland's national fruit, the
haggis:
The "great chieftan o' the puddin-race" was one of earliest casualties of the BSE
crisis of the 1980s-90s, banned on health grounds by the US authorities in 1989 because
they feared its main ingredient ‑ minced sheep offal ‑ could prove lethal.
Some refined foodies might insist it always has been and always will be: in the words
of Robert Burns, in his Ode to a Haggis, looking "down wi' sneering, scornfu' view
on sic a dinner". But now, as millions of Scots around the world prepare to celebrate
Burns's legacy tonight with an elaborate, whisky-fuelled pageant to a boiled bag of
sheep innards, oatmeal, suet and pepper, its reputation has been restored, on health
grounds at least.
... Nearly £9m worth were sold in the UK alone last year, the 250th anniversary of
Burns' birth, up by 19% on 2008. Richard Lochhead, the Scottish environment secretary,
was delighted. "I am greatly encouraged to hear that the US authorities are planning
a review of the unfair ban on haggis imports," he said. "We believe that reversing
the ban would deliver a vote of confidence in Scottish producers, and allow American
consumers to sample our world-renowned national dish."
In other news, the Boeing
747 turns 40 this week, and the Economist has a link to its
original story from 1970:
Apart from the very first flight of all, for which around 2,000 people applied for
seats, and which would have taken off with a full load of 362 seats (the replacement
aircraft that eventually took off to cheers some time after 2 a.m. the following morning
was still as full as makes no difference), bookings for 747 flights have been relatively
slow coming in. The well-publicised troubles with deliveries, air-worthiness certificates
and, most recently, engines, may have something to do with it, but so also has a certain
timidity about embarking in a vehicle that most resembles a small flying cinema.
Like cinemas, some seats are better than others. First class apart, with its lounges
and spiral staircases, the premium seats are probably the block that runs two abreast
down one side of the aircraft, but not those too near the tail, which has a tendency
to swish about, nor the extreme front nor behind the engines, where the noise level
is above average. Least attractive are the three abreast seats along the opposite
wall. The large block of four seats in the centre, with an aisle on either side, turns
out to be more comfortable and less cramped than it looks; big men packed four abreast
passed an uncomplaining night mainly because the seats themselves are larger than
average.
I sincerely hope the 747 I'm flying on tomorrow morning is somewhat newer.
