2018 Burns Supper

KSFSS 3rd Annual Burns Supper – January 22, 2018

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[su_spoiler title=”The Selkirk Grace” open=”no” style=”default” icon=”plus” anchor=”” class=””]

Some hae meat an canna eat,
And some wad eat that want it;
But we hae meat, and we can eat,
And sae let the Lord be thankit.

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[su_spoiler title=”Address to a Haggis (Stephen Brown)” open=”no” style=”default” icon=”plus” anchor=”” class=””]

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Fair fa’ your honest, sonsie face,
Great chieftain o’ the puddin’-race!
Aboon them a’ ye tak yer place,
Painch, tripe, or thairm:
Weel are ye wordy o’ a grace
As lang’s my airm.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 dicht,
An cut you up wi ready slicht,
Trenching your gushing entrails bricht,
Like onie ditch;
And then, Oh what a glorious sicht,
Warm-reekin, rich!

Then, horn for horn, they stretch an strive:
Deil tak the hindmaist, on they drive,
Till a’ their weel-swall’d kytes belyve
Are bent like drums;
Then auld Guidman, maist like to rive,
‘Bethankit’ hums.

Is there that ower his French ragout,
Or olio that wad staw a sow,
Or fricassee wad mak her spew
Wi perfect scunner,
Looks down wi’ sneering, scornfu view
On sic a dinner?

Poor devil! see him ower 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,
Oh how unfit!

But mark the Rustic, haggis-fed,
The trembling earth resounds his tread,
Clap in his wallie nieve a blade,
He’ll mak 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!

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 platter 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, Oh what a glorious sight,
Warm steaming, rich!

Then, spoon for spoon, the stretch and strive:
Devil take the hindmost, on they drive,
‘Til all their well-swollen bellies soon
Are bent as drums;
Then old head of the table, most likely to burst,
‘The grace!’ hums.

Is there one, that over his French ragout,
Or olio that would sicken a sow,
Or fricassee that would make her spew
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 spindly leg a good whip-lash,
His fist a nut:
Through bloody flood or field to dash,
Oh 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, that make mankind your care,
And dish them out their bill of fare,
Old Scotland wants no watery stuff
That slops in bowls:
But, if you wish her grateful prayer,
Give her a Haggis!

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[su_spoiler title=”Toast to the Lassies (Claude Hurtubise)” open=”no” style=”default” icon=”plus” anchor=”” class=””]

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[su_spoiler title=”Reply to the Toast to the Lassies (Christine Wentzell)” open=”no” style=”default” icon=”plus” anchor=”” class=””]

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[su_spoiler title=”The Meal” open=”no” style=”default” icon=”plus” anchor=”” class=””]

Amuse Bouche
Ode to a Haggis

Traditionally prepared with lamb’s pluck, oats, and spices
Paired with:
66.95 Sweet Reek (61.0% ABV)
Reassuringly sweet with pink wafer biscuits and Turkish delight dusted with icing sugar and wrapped with a soft cloud of gentle smoke. More floral notes developed with violets, red roses and apple blossom that fused quite magnificently with malt extract and sticky cough mixture. The syrupy texture extended to the taste with a mouth-coating character now delivering liquorice sweets, overcooked blackcurrant jam and considerably spiced haggis that had been grilled until the edges had become crispy. The finish was substantial and irrepressible leaving a warm and sweet smoke reminiscent of pork crackling on the barbecue. ($156.90)

Salad Course
Duck Rilette & Roquefort
Baby beets, curly endive, focaccia melba toast, walnuts, red wine & grainy mustard vinaigrette
Paired with:
37.87 Puff Pastry Plum Tarts (58.8% ABV)
We entered a stately home and walked through the hall of marble white granite limestone, passing the armour’s gallery, downstairs to the kitchen with an open hearth. We were offered baked brie with apricot preserves and almonds as well as warm bread with sunflower seeds. After a drop of water the sweet smell of puff pastry plum tarts and apple strudel made us even hungrier and we enjoyed a sticky toffee loaf cake with fudge icing.  After 12 years in an ex-bourbon hogshead, we transferred this whisky directly into a 1st fill charred ex-red wine hogshead for the remainder of its maturation. ($179.90)

Soup Course
Roasted Cauliflower
3 year old cheddar, oyster mushroom “crackling”, smoked chicken leg confit, thyme, aged sherry
Paired with:
46.47 Mexican Breakfast (59.8% ABV)
We started off with a Mexican breakfast: chili tomato stew with onions, garlic and bay leaves, fried eggs and cheese all wrapped in lightly fried corn tortillas and our ‘huevos rancheros’ was ready. In the taste we added fresh coriander leaves, ginger and turmeric and a semi-sweet hot chili sauce. With a drop of water, we remembered what we drank last night before we went to bed, a clove-y, gingery and cinnamon-y liqueur and a splash of Fernet Branca. After 13 years in an Oloroso sherry butt, we transferred this whisky directly into a 1st fill Pedro Ximenez butt for the remainder of its maturation. ($187.90)

Fish Course
Scallop & Bacon Cavatelli
Hand cranked ricotta dumplings, watercress & preserved lemon puree, black truffle cream, winter leeks, parmesan reggiano
Paired with:
4.227 Dreaming to Sounds of the Sea (58.0% ABV)
The nose embraced quintessentially coastal qualities with salt dusted rocks draped with dried seaweed and the occasional barnacle. The sea air carried the distant sweet smoke of burning heather and the even more fragrant whiff of dried lavender. Walking across the wet sand we dreamed of fresh seafood platters, laden with shrimps, smoked mussels, pickled cockles, dressed crab and oysters drizzled with lime juice vinaigrette. The palate was simultaneously juicy and mouthcoatingly oily with a creaminess reminiscent of porridge. The salty theme progressed into crispy tempura, seaweed rolls and sushi with wasabi and pickled ginger. Water released a salty tang like liquorice stick with dry herbal notes and sweet floral overtones. The finish was sweet with honey on burnt toast and malted barley. ($199.90)

Meat Course
Char Sui Pork Roast
48hr sous vide pork shoulder, Chinese bbq sauce, fried nori rice cake, broccolette, cinnamon & anise broth, citrus
Paired with:
3.300 Dirty Margarita on a Yacht (59.7% ABV)
This nose was maritime and malty (sipping Horlicks on a Calmac ferry) with apple-wood smoke, singed heather and traces of tar. The taste delivered intense bonfire smoke, lavender and parma violet candies, sweet sherry, pecan pie, bananas and porridge. With water we were afloat again – smelling the ocean from an oil-rig or barbecuing pork ribs on a yacht. The palate now bestowed bacon frazzles, balsamic, honey-glazed ribs, chocolate limes, ‘a dirty margarita’ (not a person, we were assured) and light perfumed smoke. After 17 years in bourbon wood we transferred this to a second-fill toasted oak hogshead (previously used for 35.147). (sold out)

Dessert Course
Chocolate & Banana Brownie
Caramelised bananas, peanut butter anglaise, banana gelato,
almond roccha
Paired with:
55.44 Honey on a Stradivarius (57.1% ABV)
We sniffed – and imagined putting treacle tarts into spice cupboards; we imagined serving Baklava in cigar boxes; we imagined pouring honey over a Stradivarius. The palate continued that duality of mouth-flooding sweetness(sticky toffee, syrup, blackstrap molasses) with coy wood-spices (orange peel, nutmeg, fenugreek, ginger, chili, cinnamon, clove). With water, our noses were tickled by tea chests and white pepper – and we served Calvados and Grand Marnier to thirsty weavers at their looms. The reduced palate had chocolate, caramel and Marsala – warming and delicious. After 15 years in ex-bourbon wood we transferred this to a first-fill French oak hogshead. ($198.90)

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[su_spoiler title=”Auld Lang Syne” open=”no” style=”default” icon=”plus” anchor=”” class=””]

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Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
and never brought to mind?
Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
and auld lang syne?

CHORUS:
For auld lang syne, my jo,
for auld lang syne,
we’ll tak’ a cup o’ kindness yet,
for auld lang syne.

And surely ye’ll be your pint-stoup!
and surely I’ll be mine!
And we’ll tak’ a cup o’ kindness yet,
for auld lang syne.

CHORUS

We twa hae run about the braes,
and pou’d the gowans fine;
But we’ve wander’d mony a weary fit,
sin’ auld lang syne.

CHORUS

We twa hae paidl’d in the burn,
frae morning sun till dine;
But seas between us braid hae roar’d
sin’ auld lang syne.

CHORUS

And there’s a hand, my trusty fiere!
and gie’s a hand o’ thine!
And we’ll tak’ a right gude-willie waught,
for auld lang syne.

CHORUS

Should old acquaintance be forgot,
and never brought to mind?
Should old acquaintance be forgot,
and old lang syne?

CHORUS:
For auld lang syne, my dear,
for auld lang syne,
we’ll take a cup of kindness yet,
for auld lang syne.

And surely you’ll buy your pint cup!
and surely I’ll buy mine!
And we’ll take a cup o’ kindness yet,
for auld lang syne.

CHORUS

We two have run about the slopes,
and picked the daisies fine;
But we’ve wandered many a weary foot,
since auld lang syne.

CHORUS

We two have paddled in the stream,
from morning sun till dine;
But seas between us broad have roared
since auld lang syne.

CHORUS

And there’s a hand my trusty friend!
And give me a hand o’ thine!
And we’ll take a right good-will draught,
for auld lang syne.

CHORUS

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