Robert Burns, the well known Scottish poet was born in Ayrshire 25 January 1759.  Burns Night is celebrated on his birthday throughout the world. The Auld Alliance Scottish pub in Paris celebrated Burns Night by hosting the traditional Burns Night Supper.  The entertainment included the Piping in the Haggis, the Supper, the Toast to the Lasses and the usual poems and songs.

Piping in the Haggis

Once the guests had arrived and settled at their tables the piping of the haggis took place.   

Maggie played the bagpipes

whilst the chieftain of the puddin'  race was displayed to the diners.

The Supper  

After the reciting of Burns's famous poem "To a Haggis" we're ready to tuck in.

First course 

Scottish pate with oatcakes

The main event

Haggis, "warm, reekin' and rich" with, of course, neeps and tatties

Toast to the Lasses

John delivered the main speech full of wit and humour.  

He received lots of appreciative nods from the lads in the audience. 

John asks the lads to stand.

"Prepare to toast.  Fill up your glasses. Join me now. To our bonnie lasses!"

Once the speeches are complete the entertainment continues in the form of songs, poems and music and more bagpipe playing.

Poem, "Reply from a Haggis"

Although not a traditional part of a Burns Night, I decided it was about time someone spoke on behalf of the haggis.  I recited a poem, "Reply from a Haggis" especially written for the occasion.

Reply from a Haggis

You’ve had your meal; the feast is done.
You feel quite full, yet you want some fun.
You want to jump up and join the dance.
Yet you know full well there’s no chance,
When you have just stuffed your face
With the chieftain o’ the puddin’ race!

So then you think you’ll sing a song.
Join in the chorus; you can’t go wrong.
You prepare to pitch your starting note.
Yet you know full well you’ve no hope,
When you have just stuffed your face
With the chieftain o’ the puddin’ race!

Then you recite words from the bard.
Something very simple, not too hard.
You open your mouth and start to speak,
But what comes out is just a squeak.
Cos ’ you have just stuffed your face
With the chieftain o’ the puddin’ race!

Dear friends, fear not, no need for gloom.
And do not cry, “We’re doomed, we’re doomed!”
Since as you know, it is I the Haggis that rules above
Rabbie and his poems of love.
Although in fairness we feast in Burns’s name,
It is I, the Haggis who has the greater fame!

Written by Fiona Ellis ©

See the photos from the Burns Night Supper 2005 and 2006!