Excellent, Mr Burns

Got down to Twickenham about eight o’clock, for the Burns’ Supper that Jeanette and Brome were throwing.

There was delicious Cullen Skink, Fiona did a rousing job of addressing the haggis and there was a game involving reading out impossibly filthy poems by the bard. Oh, and the invention of cranachan gravy.

A brilliant night.