Plane food
Bara Brith Cake Recipe
I’m writing this from the air. I’m roughly 30,000 feet above the Bay of Biscay, and the trolley has just gone by selling a variety of Pringles, grab bags of sweets, Mini Cheddars and little packets of shortbread. I’ve opted for the red wine and a small bag of Cadbury’s Chocolate Fingers – they pair very well with an Argentinian Malbec! I don’t mind the trolley, although I do miss having a meal on board – as much as people always moaned about the quality. I don’t take that many long-haul flights these days and rarely can I afford to fly business class to warrant the delights of in-flight dining, and so I’m relegated to eating at the airport before I board, packing my own sandwiches, or buying a mishmash of snacks from the overpriced trolley.
I wouldn’t mind buying a sandwich perhaps, if I could still have unlimited cups of tea in those tiny flat plastic cups. Brewing it myself in a paper cup takes all the joy – and glamour – out of it. And there is something gloriously glamorous about flying. I would have loved to have travelled on Concorde, just once, and to go back in time when whole roasts were carved at your seat, and potent martinis were de rigour (as much as I would loath the plumes of cigarette smoke).
The thing is, I know it’s incredibly wasteful with so much packaging, and food taken back off the plane unused or only partially nibbled. And if there’s one thing I hate, it’s wasting food. I’m off to an ecotourism conference and know that waste and provenance will be high on the agenda. And yet, there is still part of me that wants the almost theatrical antics of the in-flight meal.
The question of chicken, beef or veg, the little foil containers carefully slid onto their respective plastic plates, all perfectly sized to fit both on the tray, and in the trolley. Then there’s the little bread roll that’s colder than the butter, and the salt and pepper sachets that are only found after you’ve eaten. The neat freak in me loves how everything has its place and receptacle. I love watching the order in which people eat it too. Do they eat the bread as a starter? Do they slice it, spread it with butter and have it with their main? Or do they skip ahead altogether and start with the cheese and crackers?
A great deal of thought and science goes into the meals on board. Our tastebuds change at altitude, and we become less receptive to flavour. Plane food is anything but plain, likely containing more salt, sugar, spices and herbs. Wines are another tricky one. They need to be chosen carefully to make sure they taste as they should – or as close to it as they can. To taste wines on the ground and in the air, now that wouldn’t be a bad job, would it?
The Recipe
Bara brith cake
A few months ago, we made traditional bara brith – a yeasted loaf filled with dried fruit. While this is the original form of this speckled bread, the more common version you find these days is the un-yeasted cake. It’s no better or worse, just different. In my version, I lace the dried fruit with a touch of Harveys Bristol Cream sherry along with the strongly brewed tea. Of course, you can leave this out or switch it up for good Welsh whisky. I’ve just put dried fruit on the ingredients list, because you can use whatever you want. In the one pictured, I used some end-of-the-packet dried apricots, some cranberries and sultanas. But you could use currants, raisins, dates etc. Some people even put in a tablespoon or two of marmalade, but I prefer to get that flavour from dried mixed peel. Again, the choice is yours. My Nanna Lena always told me that sponge cake is better the next day or the day after, and that is certainly true of bara brith. It’s better if it’s left for a day once cooked before slicing and spreading thickly with salty butter. If it gets to the stale stage, pop slices in the toaster before serving.
Ingredients (serves 10, makes one loaf)
400g dried fruit
Good splash (about 100ml) of sherry
300ml strong tea
100g soft brown sugar
1tsp mixed spice (apple pie spice or pumpkin spice if in the USA)
1 free-range egg
Pinch of salt
250g self-raising flour, sifted
Method
Place the dried fruit in a large mixing bowl and pour over the tea and sherry.
Leave to steep for at least an hour, but ideally longer.
Preheat the oven to Gas Mark 4/180°C/350°F and line a loaf tin with non-stick baking parchment.
When the fruit has soaked up a lot of the liquid, add all of the other ingredients to the bowl and mix well.
Bake in the oven for around an hour or until a skewer comes out clean when inserted.
Allow to cool slightly in the tin before turning out and allowing to cool completely.
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.
This week we’re listening to the Only Men Aloud, who came into the public eye when they won the BBC’s Last Choir Standing competition. The second piece is by Swansea-born classical and contemporary pianist, Ify Iwobi.
Angels by Only Men Aloud
Flying High by Ify Iwobi
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, or a really great place for food.
Y Fenni cheese
I don’t often get my hands on this, but I stopped by Wally’s Delicatessen in Cardiff this week and picked one up. This strong cheddar is laced with ale and mustard giving it a wonderfully deep, potent flavour.