Happy Saint David’s Day!
Today’s the day we celebrate all things Welsh – as if I didn’t already do that on a daily basis. St David is famous for saying, ‘Gwnewch y pethau bychain mewn bywyd’ - ‘Do the little things in life’. That got me thinking about the little things that bring me joy in the kitchen, and it’s often the little things that make a big difference.
Salt from a pinch pot
Nothing makes me think I’m a professional quite like adding salt to a recipe from a pot of salt. I have a little pot that I actually bought as a small plant pot, but realised it was too tiny for any plants. So, instead it’s where I keep my wonderful Halen Môn sea salt. It’s next to the cooker at all times, so I can, like a wizard brewing a potion, sprinkle salt into whatever I happen to be making with a theatrical flourish.
Handling dough
My flatmate cannot stand putting her hands in anything gooey, anything where her hands will get sticky dirty. I on the other hand absolutely love it. I love working with and eating with my hands. My nan would be appalled at my lack of cutlery sometimes, but it somehow makes it more sensory. Feeling the food as well as smelling and tasting it, adds another wonderful element. One of my favourite things to get my hands on is dough. It could be bread, Welsh cakes, whatever. I love the mixing and kneading, feeling the dough squish between my fingers.
Watching sponge rise
While people say that baking is a science, I personally think there is still an element of magic about it. There’s something about when you mix all the ingredients and put them in the cake tin and pop it in the oven, and then miraculously, half an hour later it has transformed itself into a sponge. That big reveal moment when you go to check if it’s done and there it is, in all its springy, sweet, pillowy wonderfulness.
Putting on a pinny
I’ve spoken before in the newsletter about my love of aprons. How they have so many more functions than protecting clothes from heat and splatter. But I’m not sure I extolled the joy that I get from putting it on. It signals the start of the cooking process, of becoming someone else – a bit like an actor puts on a costume, and transforms into whatever character they are playing. I get an instant lift from tying the strings and signalling to myself that it’s creation time.
The sound of buttering toast
Some people hate scraping noises but when I hear that trill of the knife over the top layer of crunchy toast crumbs, I get a warm feeling. It could have something to do with my obsession with butter as well. That sound, a bit like a guiro (that ribbed, wooden instrument you brushed with a stick in school) makes me think of bright sunny mornings, big cups of tea, and comfort.
A little sherry and some crisps
Nigella is partial to a Campari and soda with a bowl of Hula Hoops of an evening. Personally, I love a little chilled glass of bone-dry fino or manzanilla sherry and some ready salted crisps. It just puts you in the right mood for the evening. I love the nutty, almond aromas of the sherry and the saltiness of the crisps makes me think I might be sipping away on a beautiful Spanish costa.
A tin of corned beef
It’ll come as no surprise to anyone that I want to talk about corned beef. It’s a staple in my kitchen and across the kitchens and bakeries of Wales. The opening of the tin is a particular joy. Why does it still come in those tins? But anything that has a key that you have use to open it is a little bit fun – except if you lose the key and have to try to squirm your tin opener around those tight corners. Corned beef pie, pasties, stew, you name it, if it’s got corned beef in, I’m into it. I quite like the first slice off the end. My Nannie Gwen is to blame here, as she insisted on keeping her tins in the fridge – that way the corned beef is easier to slice. She’d slice the end off, break it into two and give me one bit. Chilled corned beef – a taste sensation.
I hope wherever you are in the world, you can celebrate a little bit of Welshness today. I’ll be doing some singing later with Côr Y Boro | Borough Welsh Choir. And I need to rustle up some Welsh cakes.
Dydd Gŵyl Dewi Hapus!
I’m offering a special St David’s Day discount on subscriptions to the newsletter. For the month of March you can get 30% off if you sign up to a paid subscription – that’s just £14 for the year to help support me in putting it together.
The Recipe
Really easy rarebit
This recipe is based on one I found in an old book called Farmhouse Fare. I’ve adapted and updated it a bit (surprise, surprise), but its magic is in its simplicity. Laying slices of cheese on bread or roasting cheese in pan in front of the fire and spreading it on bread is the origin of rarebit. I’m using Welsh products from my kitchen but you can use whatever you can find.
Ingredients (serves 1)
1 shallot, chopped (you can use a small onion)
1 round of bread
Mustard (I’m using Welsh Lady leek mustard)
Cheddar cheese, sliced (I’m using Snowdonia Black Bomber)
Chutney or relish (I’m using Cwtch Farmers Relish)
Method
Gently fry the shallot in some butter or olive oil until softened. Meanwhile, lightly toast your bread.
Spread the toast liberally with mustard – you want a bit of a kick – and top with the softened shallot.
Place the slices of cheese on top and put it all under a hot grill until the cheese is bubbling.
Top with the chutney and enjoy.
If you try the recipe out, don’t forget to tag any photos with #mywelshkitchen.
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.
As it’s Saint David’s Day, we’re going patriotic with our playlist.
International Velvet by Catatonia
O Gymru by Côr Glanaethwy
Safwn yn y Bwlch by Trio a Chôr Meibion Dyffryn Peris
We’ll Keep A Welcome by Shirley Bassey, Bryn Terfel and Michael Ball