Fully booked this evening the Burns Supper organised at Da Riccardo on the Fosso. To add to occasion the guest of honour – the haggis, was flown in specially this morning on the Glasgow – Pisa flight. Burns Suppers have been part of Scottish culture for about 200 years as a means of commemorating their 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 programm source
|
Fair fa' your honest, sonsie face, |
|
|
The groaning trencher there ye fill, |
|
|
His knife see rustic Labour dicht, |
|
|
Then, horn for horn, they stretch an' strive: |
|
|
Is there that o're his French ragout |
|
|
Poor devil! see him ower his trash, |
|
|
But mark the Rustic, haggis fed, |
|
|
Ye Pow'rs wha mak mankind your care, |
[display_podcast]
I wrote this in 1996 (200th aniversary of the bard’s death) for the Ellon Burns society in Aberdeenshire. Perhaps when the drouthy neibors meet tonight at Da Riccardo they may want to see what Burns might have written had he lived today.
Hello to all in Barga from Carlo and Izzy Zambonini
Address to a haggis.
(Suitable for Vegetarians)
Once mighty stuff fit for Ayre men,
Now feeds the glaikit vegetatian.
Full-bodied, a feast of blood and guts,
Taen ower waesucks! By health-food nuts.
Great Chieftain’s now a whingin slave,
O the common microwave.
A shadow o his former sell,
Six minutes birling rings a bell.
Dizzy fizzing drummock bing,
You wouldna recognise the thing.
Nae fair and honest sonsie face,
Jist meat free sconner in his place.
Trenching your gushing entrails bright,
Leaves only lentils for ma kyte.
Nae rustic knife for you ma loun,
Sic a dinner carves well wae a spoon.
Warm-reeking rich, are Robin’s wurdies,
Pulses don’t stick tae yer hurdies.
So celebrating Bardic birth,
Wi swats an whisky makin mirth,
False puddin reekin on yir table,
Mind the ruminator’s fable.
Heed well his herbivorial rants,
Chief lentil sticks well tae yer pants.
Carlo Umberto Burns.
Carlo, you’re in the wrong line of work. Oil will run out eventually, but poetry is forever — and you hae the gift.