Whitman (whose father, let it be said, was ALSO named Walter, so the poet is really "Junior" Whitman, which sounds like a small box of candy or the leader of a 1930s-era swing band) also wrote "When Lilacs Last In The Dooryard Bloomed" and "Oh Pioneers!" I don't think that we'd serve lilacs OR dooryards OR pioneers. Especially pioneers, because according to the poem they have pistols. I don't like to eat any dinner that shoots back once it's on my plate.

Haggis. Oatmeal, root veggies, and little bits of mystery meat boiled up in a sheep's stomach. Why, that's awful! Not at all like the dishes of my youth, like panhaus or blutwurst!