Dinner opportunity within an International community

This past week David and I were invited to attend a "Burns supper".  Unless you are of Scottish descent, you may not be aware that such an event exists.  A Burns supper is a celebration of the life and poetry of the poet Robert Burns, author of many Scots poems. The suppers are normally held on or near the poet's birthday, January 25th.

Our hosts, Mike (Scottish) and Karen (Irish) ordered the haggis all the way from Scotland. I don't think that you can find it anywhere else!  

I typically don't like to be surprised, so I thought I would read up on what a Burns Supper would entail.  The order of the dinner is very precise....guests are invited to the table, the host welcomes everyone, guest are seated and grace is said.  

View of our table....attendees included 2 Irish, 1 Scot, 2 Canadians, 4 Americans,
2 Italians, 5 Spanish, 2 Swedish, 3 English and 5 French

The Selkirk Grace

Some hae meat an

canna eat,

And some wad eat that want it;

But we hae meat, and we can eat,

And sae let the Lord be thankit.

Then the food begins with a soup course

and then the haggis makes it's appearance

Our friend Krys had the honor of bringing in the haggis

complete with a poem entitled 

"Address to a Haggis"

Fair fa' your honest, sonsie face,
Great chieftain o' the pudding-race!
Aboon them a' yet tak your place,
Painch, tripe, or thairm:
Weel are ye wordy o'a grace
As lang's my arm.

The groaning trencher there ye fill,
Your hurdies like a distant hill,
Your pin was help to mend a mill
In time o'need,
While thro' your pores the dews distil
Like amber bead.

His knife see rustic Labour dight,            At this line, Mike drew out his knife, and plunged it  
An' cut you up wi' ready sleight,               into the haggis and cuts it open from end to end. 
Trenching your gushing entrails bright,
Like ony ditch;
And then, O what a glorious sight,
Warm-reekin', rich!

Then, horn for horn, they stretch an' strive:
Deil tak the hindmost! on they drive,
Till a' their weel-swall'd kytes belyve
Are bent like drums;
Then auld Guidman, maist like to rive,
Bethankit! hums.

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

Poor devil! see him owre his trash,
As feckles as wither'd rash,
His spindle shank, a guid whip-lash;
His nieve a nit;
Thro' blody flood or field to dash,
O how unfit!

But mark the Rustic, haggis-fed,
The trembling earth resounds his tread.
Clap in his walie nieve a blade,
He'll mak it whissle;
An' legs an' arms, an' hands will sned,
Like taps o' trissle.

Ye Pow'rs, wha mak mankind your care,
And dish them out their bill o' fare,
Auld Scotland wants nae skinking ware
That jaups in luggies;
But, if ye wish her gratefu' prayer
Gie her a haggis!

Thank the Lord I took the time to "try to read" and understand the poem beforehand....I could barely understand a word being said!  I've uploaded the video to youtube, just in case you'd like to "hear it".

After the poem is read, the other courses are brought to the table and include a steak pie, tatties and neeps.

Steak Pie (think beef stew)

The haggis.....caution....do NOT google what's in it before you EAT it :)

Neeps....aka mashed turnips

All to be washed down with various bottles of Scotch Whiskey.  Dessert is a tipsy laird (whiskey trifle) served with tea and coffee.

While guests are eating, other Burns' poems, toasts and songs ensue. It's very difficult to read, let alone to recite.  I've included David's attempt.....don't be too quick to laugh unless you want to give it a try too.




While living in the great midwest, I am not sure that I have ever encountered a born and raised Scotsman. They speak with a heavy brogue and it's quite lovely to listen to, but unless you have an "ear for it", it's nearly impossible to understand, especially if they speak at their normal "pace". Fortunately, Mike is a very good sport about repeating himself.

It was a great evening and we were blessed to be invited.  Mike assured us that the leftover haggis would be delicious with our eggs the next morning.... while he might think so, we didn't ask to take any leftovers home!