War Cannon Spirits Hosts a Traditional Scottish Burns Night
Celebrate Scottish identity, literature, and camaraderie at an Adirondack Burns Night.
War Cannon Spirits has partnered with Glasgow-based hosts and renowned restauranteurs to host their 2nd Annual Burns Night at their Defiance Hall Tasting Room.
Scots and enthusiasts of Scottish culture worldwide celebrate the event as a tribute to their national bard, Robert Burns. The event's highlight is the iconic Burns Supper, a feast of haggis, neeps, and tatties accompanied by the traditional Scottish drink, whisky.
This event is a unique opportunity for the Adirondacks to experience Scotland's rich cultural heritage, which devotees worldwide celebrate.
A night of lively Scottish music, delicious food, toasts, speeches, and readings of Robert Burns's most famous literary works.
Traditional Scot piper.
Featured events include:
Traditional live music and highland dancers
A multi-course Burns Supper
A bagpiper to “Pipe In” the guests to the Burns Supper
Recitation of the Selkirk Grace
The piping in and recitation of "Address to a Haggis" (see below)
A traditional Scottish pudding (what we call dessert in America)
Readings of Burns’ written works, such as Tam o’ Shanter
Singing Auld Lang Syne
Don’t forget the Haggis.
No Burns Supper can be considered complete without Haggis, a traditional Scottish dish made from minced sheep's heart, liver, and lungs. It is mixed with oatmeal, onions, suet, and spices and then encased in a sheep's stomach.
At the appointed time during the dinner, a bagpiper plays as the Haggis is ceremoniously brought into the dining room.
The Master of Ceremonies then recites Burns' famous poem, "Address to a Haggis," and the ceremony culminates in the symbolic stabbing of the Haggis.
For more information and to reserve your spot at the table, visit the War Cannon website and register now. By the way, Defiance Hall offers EV charging.
Watch an Address to a Haggis (see translation below).
English translation of the “Address to a Haggis” by Robert Burns.
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.
The groaning trencher there you fill,
Your buttocks like a distant hill,
Your pin would help to mend a mill
In time of need,
While through your pores the dews distill
Like amber bead.
His knife see rustic Labour wipe,
And cut you up with ready slight,
Trenching your gushing entrails bright,
Like any ditch;
And then, O what a glorious sight,
Warm steaming, rich!
Then spoon for spoon, the stretch and strive:
Devil take the hindmost, on they drive,
Till all their well swollen bellies by-and-by
Are bent like drums;
Then old head of the table, most like to burst,
'The grace!' hums.
Is there that over his French ragout,
Or olio that would sicken a sow,
Or fricassee would make her vomit
With perfect disgust,
Looks down with sneering, scornful view
On such a dinner?
Poor devil! see him over his trash,
As feeble as a withered rush,
His thin legs a good whip-lash,
His fist a nut;
Through bloody flood or field to dash,
O how unfit.
But mark the Rustic, haggis-fed,
The trembling earth resounds his tread,
Clap in his ample fist a blade,
He'll make it whistle;
And legs, and arms, and heads will cut off
Like the heads of thistles.
You powers, who make mankind your care,
And dish them out their bill of fare,
Old Scotland wants no watery stuff,
That splashes in small wooden dishes;
But if you wish her grateful prayer,
Give her [Scotland] a Haggis!
Translation credit: The Alexandria Burns Club.
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