As I mentioned a few weeks ago in the Simple Food Pleasures newsletter, small, simple foods and dishes can be a great source of joy, especially in difficult times. The same can be said for comfort foods, those dishes, snacks or meals that make you feel safe, protected, nourished or nostalgic. On eating comfort foods, you’re often transported back to a time of great happiness, love or security.
Comfort food sometimes gets mistaken for bad or unhealthy food – which of course it can be – but in its essence it is wholesome, whether it’s pie and chips from the local chip shop on a Friday night, a soothing glass of red wine after a long day’s work, or simply a slice of cake when you’re feeling down.
There should not be shame in comfort food – there is a common misconception that it’s about gluttony or excess, but it’s not. It’s about nourishment for the body, mind and soul. Food helps us cope with our emotions, brings people together, and helps to shape our identities – a subject I wrote about last year for Vittles.
I read a piece by columnist Grace Dent the other day in which she speaks about the very British method of grief at a funeral. How there is always a buffet, a spread of beige food, and copious amounts of tea and pints of beer. At the moment of course, we can’t have buffets for any major life events unless in our household bubbles – but then there hardly seems the need for sausage rolls and sandwich triangles when there are only four of you. Yet everyone reading this can probably picture a version of the buffet that I described. That familiarity is part of why it’s comforting, the way you don’t need to think about eating it, that you know what’s going to be there on the trestle table without looking, that all the food is easy to hold on a creped paper plate, the way it gives you something to talk about with relations you haven’t seen for donkey’s years. Somehow it’s easier to mourn over a Scotch egg and handful of mystery crisps taken out of a bowl with a doily. It’s comfort food, in the same way a bar of Dairy Milk on the sofa in front of the TV is when you’re just feeling rotten.
Not to continue on a morbid note, but a line in my Nanna Lena’s eulogy read, “and what Lena couldn’t do with a tin of corned beef is nobody’s business”. A delightful chuckle went around the perfectly permed congregation, and knowing smiles rippled across the faces of my large, Welsh family (we took up at least the first five rows of pews!). And it’s true, my Nanna Lena was the ultimate thrifty cook, and corned beef was regularly served up in one form or another on her red Formica kitchen table. There were hearty steaming basins of corned beef stew aplently – full of soft, sweet, slippery onions, potatoes that just about held their shape until you squashed them on the roof of your mouth, chunky carrots, and the rich stock juices mopped up with rounds of white bread.
But perhaps the one recipe that sticks in my nostalgic tastebuds more than any other is Nanna’s corned beef pie. Its smooth shortcrust pastry case filled with mashed onion, potato, and corned beef, perfectly set (it’s always better having been in the fridge for a while so the fat solidifies a bit) was served up at any occasion, from family parties where it was cooked in a large baking tray, or for a midweek dinner, when it was likely cooked on a willow-pattern dinner plate and served with baked beans and a heavily margarine-d slice of bread. The pastry was always browned from the milk that had been “brushed” on with a forefinger – Nanna wouldn’t have wasted a perfectly good egg for a glaze. I still make it regularly now. It brings me joy to make and eat it, gives me nourishment, invites happy memories, and surrounds me with a big warm hug. It truly is all-embracing comfort food.
The Recipe
Corned beef pie
Nanna’s corned beef pie recipe was simple, made in the same way as she made corned beef hash, just in a pastry case. I’ve adapted things a little, and it always goes down as well as Nanna’s. I’ve listed both recipes here so you can take your pick.
Ingredients (makes a dinner plate-sized pie)
For the pastry:
125g butter
50g lard (you can do all butter if you prefer or vegetable fat)
300g plain flour (although self raising is fine if it’s all you’ve got in the cupboard)
1 large free-range egg
Drop of milk or cold water
For the filling:
Nanna’s recipe
3 medium-sized potatoes, roughly chopped
1 large onion, roughly chopped
1 tin corned beef, cubed
My recipe
2 medium-sized potatoes, diced
1 small leek, diced
1 large carrot, diced
1 small onion, diced
2 celery stalks, finely chopped
1 tin corned beef, cubed
3 tbsp tomato ketchup
White pepper to season
Method
In a large mixing bowl, rub together the flour, butter and lard between your fingertips until it resembles breadcrumbs, add the egg and a drop of milk to bind together to form a dough (alternatively throw all the ingredients in a food mixer and whizz). Wrap in cling film (Saran wrap in the US) and place in the fridge to chill.
Nanna’s recipe: boil the potatoes and onion in a pan of lightly salted water until tender. Drain and return to the dry pan. Add the corned beef, a knob of butter and mash together using a potato masher. Allow to cool.
My recipe: In a large frying pan, heat a knob of butter and a drizzle of olive oil on a low to medium heat. Add the celery, onion, leek, potato and carrot and stir. Add a drop of water and cover. Cook for 15 mins, then add the tomato ketchup, stir and cover again. Cook for another 15 minutes or until the potato and carrot are tender. Add the corned beef to the pan and mix thoroughly until the corned beef has broken up and season with a generous shake of white pepper. Allow to cool.
Preheat the oven to 190°C/350°F/Gas Mark 5. Dust the worktop with flour and roll out two thirds of the dough, big enough to cover a dinner plate or small pie dish.
Line the dish with the pastry and spread in the filling evenly.
Roll out the remaining pastry to form a lid. Wet the edges of the base with a little beaten egg or milk, lay the lid on top and seal with your finger or a fork. Trim off the excess pastry and make a small hole in the centre to allow the steam to escape. Brush the remaining beaten egg or milk over the top.
Place in the oven for about 35 minutes until golden brown.
Leave to cool before serving. For best results, chill in the fridge for an hour, it’ll slice better.
Don’t forget to tag any photos with #mywelshkitchen if you decide to give it a go.
The Playlist
To me, cooking and music go hand in hand, whether that’s singing at the top of your voice using a wooden spoon as a microphone while waiting for pasta to boil, or dancing around with the oven gloves on as the oven timer counts down. Here are this week’s ideas for your Welsh Kitchen playlist.
It’s Mother’s Day in the UK this Sunday, and so for this week’s playlist we have two videos with a link to mothers. The first is a little poem by Welsh comedian Ryan Davies who tells of Jemima Nicholas (also known as Jemima Fawr), a Welsh heroine during the Battle of Fishguard in 1797 (the last invasion of Britain). The second this week is the classic Welsh lullaby Suo Gân (a alternative version of which I posted the other week) sung by soprano Emilie Parry-Williams. I have the good fortune to know Emilie and have heard her sing this live and there’s something about her voice that tugs at my emotions every time.
Napoleon versus Mam by Ryan Davies
Suo Gân by Emilie Parry-Williams
The Pantry
Good food is nothing without good ingredients and thankfully there are plenty of fantastic Welsh products on the market. Here is where you’ll find recommendations to stock up your cupboard, fridge or fruit bowl.
Coaltown Coffee
Getting a takeaway flat white on my daily walks around my local area has been such a welcome treat and piece of normality over the past few months. There is comfort in a great cup of coffee. And if the story behind the coffee is like that of Coaltown, it makes it even more heart warming: “Ammanford is a small town of 5400 people. A former mining community where anthracite coal (Black Gold) fuelled the local economy. Unfortunately in 2003, the last of the local collieries closed, bringing with it a slow demise with high unemployment with no prospect for the school leavers of today. Our plan is to change this. To bring back an industry & get this town producing a new form of black gold. Coffee.” Coaltown offers many blends and varieties of coffee, all roasted at their HQ in Ammanford. They also sell coffee pods, coffee subscriptions, and accessories and even have their own coffee academy if you want to learn more about the coffee process.