For the past week, I've been testing recipes for some work I'm doing for a well-known supermarket magazine (watch this space). Testing is a tricky business, especially for the type of cook that I am. I shake a bit of this in here, add a bit more of that in there, cook it a bit longer of I think it needs crisping up. But when you're recipe testing, everything has to be precise. How many minutes to soften a leek in a pan? With butter or without butter (joke – always with butter!)? How much salt or nutmeg – a teaspoon, one and a quarter? It means a lot of weighing, measuring and timing. Something I'm hopeless at as a general rule when I'm just cooking for myself.
When testing, I jot down as I'm going along, adding +15mins to my original 45mins if something needs longer than I expected, or 100ml + 20ml if something needs more liquid than I had imagined. Some cooks (trained chefs more often) are able to divine quantities and timings before cooking, but I have to taste as I go along, and judge if and when somethings needs whipping out of the oven before it burns.
By the end, I have a scribbled recipe on a tomato sauce or tea-splattered piece of paper, which eventually I'll type up neatly and orderly. But I rarely throw the paper version away. I like to refer back to the process and there's something about having both physically written it, and then reading the hand-written copy back, crossings out, asterisks and all.
I also love seeing handwritten recipes. I'll often find them inside second-hand cook books, neatly folded over and stored at the back. They're often entitled Aunty Marjorie's Pineapple Cake, Mum's Bolognese, or Dad's Boxing Day Chutney. I like to see the penmanship as much as the recipe itself. I wonder if they were gifted over the phone or passed at a family gathering or over a cuppa in the office kitchen. My colleague Andy sent me a photo of a family recipe for a corned beef risotto he was talking to me about recently. It was typed up (very posh) but had added handwritten notes in the margin. I'll report back on how I get on with it soon – it sounds right up my street. I also found a few in a book my Great Auntie Den gave me. She'd noted them from a magazine or book or somewhere on random bits of paper. I also like to see what people have scribbled them down on: the back of an envelope, a notelet, a bit of cereal box card etc – all the better if they are splattered with a bit of experimental cooking concoction.
I feel as if a lot of these recipes have simply been stored in people’s heads and this is the moment that they’ve finally been put to paper for one reason or another (a child off to university, a plea to have the secret recipe, or just as an aide-memoire). Today’s newsletter recipe is one of those that lives in my head because I’ve made a version of it that many times, and I can roughly judge the quantities without measuring. But as you can’t read my mind, I put my tester hat on and noted down the recipe for you. Enjoy!
The Recipe
Welsh whisky rarebit with Marmite toast
It’s that time of year for bringing out the rarebit. Warming, comforting, easy to prepare and versatile, rarebit is my go-to for cosying up at home. I’ve used Marmite here on the toast to bring even more deep richness to the rarebit, but you can just have the toast plain if you’re a Marmite hater.
Ingredients (serves 2)
1tbsp butter
1tbsp plain (all-purpose) flour
60ml (a double measure) of Welsh whisky (I used Aber Falls)
50ml warm milk
125g mature Cheddar cheese, grated (I used Dragon)
1tsp English mustard
2 rounds crusty bread (I like sourdough as it’s a bit more robust)
Marmite (optional)
Method
In a saucepan, melt the butter until it starts fizzing, then tip in the flour and whisk together to form a paste. Cook for a minute or two.
Combine the milk and whisky. Add bit by bit to the saucepan, whisking all the time to create a smooth paste.
Mix in the grated Cheddar and mustard until the cheese has melted.
Lightly toast the bread and spread with Marmite. Dollop a generous helping of the rarebit on top.
Place under a hot grill until bubbling.
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.
First up, we have Goldie Lookin Chain. I spotted that the lads from Newport have new music out and I loved this song all about the Middle of Lidl. Secondly, with Remembrance this coming week, I thought this piece about dreaming of home, of Wales, was fitting. This version of Cymru Fach is a live recording by the wonderful Katherine Jenkins from the Llangollen International Musical Eisteddfod in 2006.
The Middle of Lidl by Goldie Lookin Chain
Cymru Fach by Katherine Jenkins
Ross Recommends
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, or a really great place or event for food.
Boss Nova Chocolates
Yes, the lights are going on and trees are going up, so Christmas must be on its way, and advent will soon be upon us. This luxury advent calendar is filled with the most gorgeous chocolates from Bossa Nova. I tasted many of the different chocs that they produce recently and there was not a dud among them. Made in Newport (just up the road from where I grew up), these chocolates are the brainchild and handcrafted creation of the lovely Andrea who painstakingly sourced the best cocoa and ingredients to create her signature confectionary – all with a Brazilian twist. Bossa Nova cocoa beans are bought as much as possible directly from farmer cooperatives to ensure that farmers earn a better price for their crop and can improve their livelihoods.
My month in food and drink
It’s been another busy month for me, which started at the fabulous Neath Food Festival, where I spoke on a panel (along with Kacie from The Rare Welsh Bit and Jake from Swansea Spotlight) about how Welsh food and drink brands can work with influencers, content creators, and the media. I was shocked at how busy the market was, and how many great stalls there were, from Barry Island Sprit Co. and Fat Bottom Welsh Cakes, to Little Goat Brewery and Popty Cara. There was also some great live music on the outdoor stage and I had the most delicious tacos from Zakinthebox Streetfood.
Then it was onto try out a brand new Cardiff restaurant, Terra Mare. This Italian-Mediterranean spot on High Street serves dishes inspired by Puglia using a lot of Welsh ingredients such as Pembrokeshire Atlantic Edge oysters. The standout dish for me was veggie Spaghettoni alla poveraccia – long thick spaghetti with a tomato, caper, olive, and spenwood cheese sauce. I would have totally believed that it was meaty, as it certainly had all the richness of a quality meat sauce. Come for cocktails and stay for dinner.
Next up, an event to celebrate some lesser-known protected EU products, from wines to deli meats. You’ve heard of Parmigiano Reggiano and Rioja wines, but what about Spanish Garnacha wines from Campo de Borja, Cariñena, Calatayud and Terra Alta, or Mortadella Bologna from Italy? These spectacular products are often made by small producers who value high quality over quantity. You can find out more here.
Finally, I had the delight to host a pairing workshop at the London Welsh Centre’s Autumn Market. We sampled in our tasting session wines from Llaethlliw Vineyard, gin from Llanfairpwll Distillery, golden rum from Anglesey Rum Co, along with Welsh nduja from Cwm Farm Charcuterie, savoury Welsh cakes from Rogue Welsh Cakes, black garlic salt from Chilli of the Valley, Cheddar from Blaenavon Cheddar Company, pear chutney from Bryn Williams, and chocolates from Bossa Nova among others. I was delighted to hear that attendees to the market topped 1,500 this year, double last year’s total.
Movember
Anyone who knows me, will be well aware that I have always struggled to grow facial hair. My beard is patchier than the phone signal in my flat, and has more gaps than the London Underground. But, I think I can just about grow a moustache. It's on my list of things to do before I turn 40 (in two years' time) and I'm raising money for men’s mental health, prostate and testicular cancer charities for all the friends and colleagues who never got the chance to make it to 40.