The Outlawed Great Chieftain o' the Puddin'-Race

Is there that owre his French ragout
Or olio that wad staw a sow,
Or fricassee wad mak her spew
Wi' perfect sconner,
Looks down wi' sneering, scornfu' view
On sic a dinner?

Two decades ago our masters in Washington, always mindful of the health of their subjects, banned the dreaded haggis from our tables. And then this January just before Robert Burns' birthday, The Guardian reported that they might be having second thoughts. It says so right here.

But today in rummaging around the web today, I ran across this. So it seems it isn't so. We will remain protected from the horrors of sheep tripe.

I'm so relieved.