After the delicious cock-
Once again Alistair recited the Robbie Burns poem in the original Scottish (well he could have made it up and we'd be none the wiser) but here is the first verse translated into English.
Good luck to you and your honest, plump face,
Great chieftain of the sausage race!
Above them all you take your place,
Stomach, tripe, or intestines:
Well are you worthy of a grace
As long as my arm.
With a wee dram of the Infamous Grouse we toasted the Haggis, which was then cut along its length (called trenching the gushing entrails) with a serious looking dagger. Fortunately no blood was shed. Tucking into Haggis, neeps & tatties (Haggis wi' bashit neeps an' champit tatties) followed by a Cranachan dessert then cheese and biscuits, was a real Burns Night feast.
Thanks of course to Rodger, Master of Ceremonies, for organising this splendid event and to our resident piper Alistair. And many thanks to the ladies -
Robert Burns 1759 -
Dubbed the "greatest Scot of all time" by STV in 2009, the writer from Ayrshire died of rheumatic fever at the age of just 37.
The Burns Supper is a celebration of the life and enduring legacy of the great Scottish poet Robert Burns. While it was first organised by his close friends and family as a memorial dinner, the night has since morphed into a country-