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Burns Night is coming up soon, can't wait! I love the Burns Supper, this year i get to address the haggis, which, if you're not aquainted with Burns Night, is a big thing. I'm quite nervous, been practising for ages and i still don't think i've got it right, its at my local, and i was surprised i was asked, its usually an older persons responsibility.
http://www.rabbie-burns.com/burnssupper/
Burns Suppers have been part of Scottish culture for about 200 years as a means of commemorating our best loved bard. And when Burns immortalised haggis in verse he created a central link that is maintained to this day.
The ritual was started by close friends of Burns a few years after his death in 1796 as a tribute to his memory. The basic format for the evening has remained unchanged since that time and begins when the chairman invites the company to receive the haggis.
THE FORMAT FOR A BURNS SUPPER
Chairperson's opening address
A few welcoming words start the evening and the meal commences with the Selkirk Grace
The company are asked to stand to receive the haggis. A piper then leads the chef, carrying the haggis to the top table, while the guests accompany them with a slow handclap. The chairman or invited guest then recites Burns' famous poem To A Haggis, with great enthusiasm. When he reaches the line 'an cut you up wi' ready slight', he cuts open the haggis with a sharp knife.
It's customary for the company to applaud the speaker then stand and toast the haggis with a glass of whisky.
The company will then dine. A typical Bill o' Fare would be:
Cock-a-leekie soup
Haggis warm reeking, rich wi' Champit Tatties,
Bashed Neeps
Tyspy Laird (sherry trifle)
A Tassie o' coffee
The Immortal Memory
One of the central features of the evening. An invited guest is asked to give a short speech on Burns. There are many different types of Immortal Memory speeches, from light-hearted to literary, but the aim is the same - to outline the greatness and relevance of the poet today.
Toast To The Lasses
The main speech is followed by a more light-hearted address to the women in the audience. Originally this was a thank you to the ladies for preparing the food and a time to toast the 'lasses' in Burns' life. The tone should be witty, but never offensive, and should always end on a concilliatory note.
Response
The turn of the lasses to detail men's foibles. Again, should be humorous but not insulting.
Poem and Songs
Once the speeches are complete the evening continues with songs and poems. These should be a good variety to fully show the different moods of Burns muse. Favourites for recitations are Tam o' Shanter, Address to the Unco Guid, To A Mouse and Holy Willie's Prayer.
The evening will culminate with the company standing, linking hands and singing Auld Lang Syne to conclude the programme.
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Hello, Scroto!
[ This Message was edited by: methylated_spirit on 2006-01-24 09:50 ]
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Posted: 2006-01-24 10:41:52
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is it anything like schotchtoberfest?
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Posted: 2006-01-24 11:27:44
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Sort of, yeah!
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Posted: 2006-01-24 11:48:07
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Heres what i've got to say:
To A Haggis
Fair fa' your honest, sonsie face,
Great chieftain o the puddin'-race!
Aboon them a' ye tak your place,
Painch, tripe, or thairm:
Weel are ye wordy of a grace
As lang's my arm.
The groaning trencher there ye fill,
Your hurdies like a distant hill,
Your pin wad 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,
An cut you up wi ready slight,
Trenching your gushing entrails bright,
Like onie 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;
The 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 mak her spew
Wi perfect sconner,
Looks down wi sneering, scornfu view
On sic a dinner?
Poor devil! see him owre his trash,
As feckless as a wither'd rash,
His spindle shank a guid whip-lash,
His nieve a nit:
Thro bloody 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 make it whissle;
An legs an arms, an heads will sned,
Like taps o thrissle.
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!
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Posted: 2006-01-24 11:56:42
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You can listen to it here:
http://www.visitscotland.com/resources/audio/addresstohaggis.mp3
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Posted: 2006-01-24 12:05:07
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Quote:
On 2006-01-24 11:56:42, methylated_spirit wrote:
Heres what i've got to say:
To A Haggis
Fair fa' your honest, sonsie face,
Great chieftain o the puddin'-race!
Aboon them a' ye tak your place,
Painch, tripe, or thairm:
Weel are ye wordy of a grace
As lang's my arm.
The groaning trencher there ye fill,
Your hurdies like a distant hill,
Your pin wad 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,
An cut you up wi ready slight,
Trenching your gushing entrails bright,
Like onie 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;
The 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 mak her spew
Wi perfect sconner,
Looks down wi sneering, scornfu view
On sic a dinner?
Poor devil! see him owre his trash,
As feckless as a wither'd rash,
His spindle shank a guid whip-lash,
His nieve a nit:
Thro bloody 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 make it whissle;
An legs an arms, an heads will sned,
Like taps o thrissle.
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!
and they can never take our...FREEEDOM!!!!
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Posted: 2006-01-24 12:19:41
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Robert Burns was born about 10 miles from where i stay, it really is Burns Country, Ayrshire. He spent some time in Edinburgh, and Dumfries, but a lot of his poetry and stories are based around Ayrshire places and happenings.
Rumour has it William Wallace was an Ayrshire lad too, troggo!
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Posted: 2006-01-24 12:22:08
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i love scots...i met billy connelly once....he was with kevin bloody wilson at some rich guys party i was waitering for
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Posted: 2006-01-24 12:24:04
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Aww cool, whats he like? was he talking to you or was he a snooty old fart?
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Posted: 2006-01-24 12:52:39
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well considering i was serving him food he seemed alright
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Posted: 2006-01-24 13:59:10
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