Returning to my trees
Bara ceirch – Welsh oatcakes recipe
I’ve been out in my kitchen balcony garden this week. It’s no bigger than a phone box, but it allows me to grow a few herbs and vegetables to use in my kitchen. I harvested the last of the cherry tomatoes, and finally planted my daffodil bulbs. The parsley, mint, rosemary and sage are still going strong but I’m not sure if they’ll survive the colder weather. I can tell the weather has changed through the very scientific method of butter. Is the butter in my butter dish more solid and less spreadable? Yes, which must mean it’s autumn. But the autumn is my favourite time of the year. Sunny, fresh days, the paint chart of russets, reds and ochres on the trees, and perhaps, most importantly, harvest and autumn produce.
I was lucky enough to be invited to attend the BBC Food and Farming Awards at the ICCW in Wales this past week. What struck me was just how crucial that link between farming and our food is and the importance of knowing where our food comes from. I’m delighted that there were several Welsh winners including:
Best Food Producer: Cosyn Cymru
Best Streetfood, Takeaway or Small Eatery: Maasi’s
Best Food and Drink Producer in Wales Award with BBC Cymru Wales: Peterston Tea
You can listen to the winners and more on BBC Radio 4’s The Food Programme.
In S Minwell Tibbott’s book, Domestic Life in Wales (2002), she describes the importance of the corn harvest in Wales and the meals that come with it.
“The corn harvest would be celebrated as a major event within the wheat belts of the fertile valleys and coastal regions. In these areas, reaping teams (medelwyr) of some fifteen to twenty men would circulate among a specific number of neighbouring farms to the wheat, formerly with sickles but latterly with scythes. A lady would follow each man to bind the sheaves. In parts of Glamorgan and Carmarthenshire, a special wheat reaper’s dish called whipod (whitepot) was prepared for this annual event. Consisting of rice, milk, currants, raisins, eggs, spice and flour, first the mixture would be boiled and then transferred into large tins for slow baking in the brick-oven. The reapers and their families were invited for an evening meal of roast meat, usually lamb, and vegetables, followed by the whitepot as a second-course delicacy. After partaking of this feast as a reward for their labour during the day, all members of the party would join together for a social evening of dancing and games.”
I’m certainly going to give that whipod a go very soon – I’ll get back to you on the results and a recipe in due course. In the meantime, I’ll be busy stewing everything from corned beef to cooking apples, roasting pumpkins and parsnips, flavouring everything with mace, nutmeg and caraway, and finishing every meal with something with custard.
There’s a Welsh saying that seems appropriate for this time of year: dod yn ôl at fy nghoed. Quite literally, it translates as ‘to return to my trees’, but it means ‘to get back to a balanced state of mind’. I certainly feel more connected to my trees, so to speak, at this time of year, between the heady summer and the mad Christmas rush – and autumn with its hearty, nutritious food from the bountiful harvest, and nature giving its showy display of colour definitely puts me in the right frame of mind.
The Recipe
Bara ceirch – Welsh oatcakes
Oatcakes stretch back centuries in Welsh cookery. In fact, you’ll find them in most Celtic nations. Welsh versions tend to be very thin and rather large and cooked on the bakestone. Traditionally, they were flattened by using the palm of the hand and could be a big as a dinner plate. They are rather unwieldy at this size, although in times gone by they had a special wooden paddle tool for moving and turning the oatcakes, called a crafell. I find smaller ones much easier to both handle and eat. Old Welsh recipes use bacon fat and water to bind, but I’m using butter. You can see some delightful photos of bara ceirch making thanks to the People’s Collection of Wales and Amgueddfa Cymru.
Ingredients (makes 6-8)
10 tbsp oatmeal (I gently blitzed up some porridge oats in the food processor. Don’t do it too fine as the dough will be sticky)
½ tsp sugar
½ tsp salt
1 tsp dried laverbread flakes (optional)
1 tbsp butter, melted
2 tbsp warm water
1 tbsp milk
Method
Heat your bakestone on a medium heat.
In a bowl, tip the oatmeal, sugar, salt and laverbread flakes if using, and mix together.
Combine the butter, water and milk, and then tip into the dry ingredients.
Mix together to form a loose dough.
Gently knead on a surface well dusted with more oatmeal until of rolling consistency.
Roll out until very thin (about the height of a penny) and cut out circles of using a large pastry cutter.
Place on the bakestone and cook slowly for about 5 minutes on each side until solid and crisp. If they still feel a bit soft, pop them in a low oven for 10 to 15 mins or so. Enjoy with honey, cheese, chutney or even jam.
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 issue we’re listening to an alternative version of the classic Cwm Rhondda by Band Pres Llareggub, and to celebrate 82 years since the release of the Oscar-winning film How Green Was My Valley on 28 October 1941, we have the overture from the movie.
Cwm Rhondda by Band Pres Llareggub
Main Title / Huw’s Theme by Alfred Newman and Welsh Singers
