Our wonderful hosts improve on the traditions of the Burns Supper every year.
The Cock-A-Leekie soup was rich and aromatic, with a couple of prunes like sweet, dark treasures.
The Haggis was piped in and toasted brilliantly. There had been "an incident" during the boiling stage but an understudy had been thoughtfully prepared. It was sent in without a hitch and a star was born. And then eaten.
A serving of the Great Chieftan, topped with a cranberry and thyme sauce which was as delicious as it sounds and looks.
A hearty winter's feast, including the tasty and wonderfully named "bashed neeps" at the bottom left.
The Cranachan was particularly good this year with thick whipped cream and tangy raspberries.
There was wine, of course, but some of us actually paired the whole meal with only the golden grains, moving with careful pours from the sherry-steeped highlands down to the dark, smoky peat bogs of Islay, where it's warm and sleepy.
The readings and toasts were both fun and a welcome reminder of the evening's namesake. Greg, the maker of haggi, is seen here in the spotlight performing his paper-craft stage reading of What Will I Do Gin My Hoggie Die? This man sets the bar so high we have to take his word that it's still up there somewhere.
One-night-only sideburns were very much in fashion; a trend we hope to see continue. Apologies to those not photographed. We don't like the camera to intrude, and the low lighting (as it should be) sadly didn't allow for many successful snaps.
With such good friends, great food and readings, it was as wonderful a Burns Supper as anyone could dare to wish.
The Cock-A-Leekie soup was rich and aromatic, with a couple of prunes like sweet, dark treasures.
Wot's all this abaht then? Burns wot? 'O's 'ee when 'ee's at 'ome then? S'all rubbinh, innit? Foreign, ain't 'e? Rubbish, innit?
ReplyDeleteAWESOME! You guys really know how to honour the Bard of Alba.
ReplyDeleteBrian and Eilidh do a great job putting these suppers together!
ReplyDelete