Burns Night has a way of sharpening the senses. It asks for attention. To language. To ritual. To what sits in the glass. Last weekend in Edinburgh, all three aligned in rare form.
I was invited by YTL Hotels and The Glasshouse to attend an exclusive Burns Night celebration in partnership with The Dalmore. The setting alone promised something special. A beautifully restored 18th-century church. A whisky list that could humble even the most seasoned collector. And an evening built around one of Scotland’s most enduring cultural traditions.
It also marked my first time wearing full Highland dress in years.
Pulling on a kilt again felt surprisingly grounding. Formal Scottish dress has a way of changing posture and pace. It asks you to stand taller. To slow down. To respect the moment. By the time I reached Edinburgh, the weight of the wool and the quiet confidence it brings had already set the tone for the evening ahead.
The event took place at The Glasshouse Hotel, a property that balances heritage and modernity with confidence. Housed within the former Lady Glenorchy Church, the building retains its original character while delivering contemporary luxury with restraint. Stone arches and stained glass sit comfortably alongside clean lines and thoughtful design. It feels intentional. Never forced.
The Whisky Snug deserves special mention. With one of Edinburgh’s most extensive collections, it is not a showpiece room. It is a working space for serious whisky appreciation. Bottles are there to be discussed. Debated. Poured. That philosophy carried through the entire evening.
Burns Night celebrations often risk becoming formulaic. Haggis. Toasts. Familiar verses delivered on autopilot. This was not that. The programme respected tradition while keeping the focus firmly on experience. Ceremonial elements were present, but never theatrical. Poetry was delivered with clarity and purpose. Toasts felt earned rather than obligatory.
Central to the night was a bespoke five-course tasting menu, crafted specifically to complement a curated journey through The Dalmore’s portfolio. Pairing whisky with food is difficult to do well. Too often the spirit dominates or disappears entirely. Here, balance was the guiding principle.
Each course was designed to highlight a different aspect of The Dalmore’s character. Depth without heaviness. Sweetness without excess. Structure without austerity. The whiskies chosen showcased why The Dalmore continues to hold such a respected position in the Highland category. They reward patience. They reveal themselves in layers. They feel composed.
There is a confidence to The Dalmore’s style that suits formal occasions. These are whiskies that sit comfortably alongside ceremony. They do not demand attention. They command it quietly.
What stood out most was how naturally the evening flowed. There was no sense of being rushed from one moment to the next. Conversation developed around the table. Glasses were revisited. Opinions shifted as flavours opened. This is how whisky should be enjoyed. Not as a performance, but as a shared experience.
Scottish hospitality often gets reduced to clichés. Warmth. Generosity. A friendly word at the bar. All present here, but delivered with polish. The team at The Glasshouse struck the right balance between attentiveness and space. Nothing interrupted the rhythm of the night.
As the evening progressed, the significance of Burns Night itself came back into focus. Robert Burns wrote about honesty. About human connection. About finding meaning in simple pleasures. Whisky has always belonged in that conversation. Not as a luxury for display, but as a companion to reflection.
Wearing a kilt again reinforced that sense of continuity. Tradition does not need to be preserved in amber. It needs to be lived. Enjoyed. Adapted with respect. That ethos ran through the entire event.
The invitation included an overnight stay at The Glasshouse Hotel, which felt less like an add-on and more like an essential final chapter. Burns Night is not something to rush away from. It benefits from a proper ending. A quiet walk back through Edinburgh. A final thought before sleep.
The Glasshouse Hotel carries another layer of credibility that matters. It is family owned. That shows. Decisions feel long term rather than transactional. Service feels considered rather than scripted. There is a quiet pride in how the hotel presents itself, rooted in stewardship rather than scale. In a city rich with hospitality options, that sense of personal ownership sets the tone from arrival to departure.
My stay was in the Islay Suite, a room that understands proportion and indulgence. A space designed for decompression after a night of ceremony and whisky. The centrepiece is a vast pool-sized bath, generous enough to feel almost indulgent, positioned for proper switching off rather than quick turnover. Spacious seating areas, calm lighting, and space to breathe made it the ideal final act to Burns Night. It was not excess for the sake of it. It was comfort done with intent.
The following morning offered a moment to reflect over a haggis-fuelled Full Scottish Breakfast… I reflected on the quality of the whiskies. On the thoughtfulness of the pairing. On the power of setting and attire to elevate an experience. On how Burns Night, when done well, still matters.
Events like this remind me why whisky culture endures. Not because of rarity or price or prestige, but because of its ability to bring people together around shared moments. Around stories. Around craft.
This was an evening rooted in Scottish heritage, executed with care, and elevated by exceptional whisky. The Dalmore delivered depth and elegance. The Glasshouse provided a setting worthy of the occasion. And Burns Night once again proved its relevance.
I left Edinburgh already looking forward to the next excuse to wear a kilt. More importantly, I left reminded that the best whisky experiences are not about chasing the next thing. They are about being fully present in the one you are already enjoying.


