Welsh cakes are now a very real threat.
The day after tomorrow is the last lesson of my Spanish classes for this term. In a moment of cruel madness the teacher asked (to general self conscious silence) what we wanted to do on the last day. ¡Fiesta! (that dreaded word!) was brought up by one of the Russians and then elaborated into reality by the offer of real Russian turrón and accepted by an ever grateful teacher.
With painful memories of the primary school ‘Culture Week’ ever ready to inform my gloomy response it has been decided that each of us will bring to the next class something approaching a tasty seasonal comestible with a specific national flavour.
Put on the spot I had no real idea of anything specifically edible that was particularly associated with Wales and Christmas: at least nothing that I was prepared to make for the day after tomorrow!
Welsh cakes seemed like a feasible idea to me. I am prepared to bet that your typical Moroccan, Russian, Indian, Portuguese, Pakistani, French, Algerian and Italian (to give you some idea of the diversity in my class) will not know the seasonal appropriateness of Welsh cakes and will accept them with alacrity. I will also (to the fury of my Welsh speaking friends) throw in a few seasonal phrases in Welsh – they won’t know what has hit them.
There is but one problem.
I have never made a Welsh cake in my life. Eaten them, yes – but actually got my hands doughy, never.
As my recipe books mostly found themselves going to Oxfam I have had to rely on the internet for my guidance. I am going to have to use a frying pan as I have no bake stone, and even if I had I’m not sure that it would be appropriate athwart the radiant rings on an electric cooker anyway!
I am going to put my faith in something which purports to be a favourite recipe for Welsh cakes by Cerys Matthews. She adds a pinch of all spice and more of a mixture of dried fruit in her version. I have decided that the festive element of my Welsh cakes is going to be a fruit and nut mixture as purchased at great expense from Lidl. I might make a batch of the absolutely ordinary ones as well just to be on the safe side!
The ingredients are fairly basic which meant that I had none of them in the house.
Self raising flour is rare in this part of the world and I don’t know the word or words for it in Spanish. I had no raisins, sultanas, butter or caster sugar. I did have an egg! So I went shopping.
I did mean to get a cut out thingie and a rolling pin, but I forgot. Then I thought that it was not really important. A glass will cut out the cakes and a wine bottle can be used as a roller. I had bought three different types of sugar as not one of them looked like caster sugar. My logic is when you don’t have what you should have then a mixture of what you actually do have might do the job. I was, you might say, prepared.
So just setting out the scales and I would be away.
If I had scales. If I knew where they could be.
At least while looking for the scales I did find the plastic box that would do nicely to put the finished Welsh cakes in.
The scales were eventually found under the sink and cleaned up to look as though they might belong in a kitchen. They were cutting edge technology and I am sure that they would have been more than adequate to their task if the battery had been functional.
It was at that point that I decided to give my strenuous virtual cooking a rest, regroup and consider my options. The lack of battery is an almost insuperable barrier to my culinary expectations. Unless, of course, I find another one.
Which I didn’t.
I’m Back From The Shops Part II – and now it’s serious.
I have bought a rolling pin. I also bought (at the same time) another figure for my Belen and a bicycle pump. Go figure!
I have mixed and kneaded and added and, apart from having too many raisins the mixture looks fine to me. According to Carys I should now leave the mixture in the fridge for half an hour then the Great Experiment with the frying pan. There doesn’t look to be very much mixture and I will have to feed up to about 15 students. I will need to get started on the second batch – though I might be persuaded to leave this feat until tomorrow.
I am trying to remember the last time that I used a rolling pin but I think that it was some time in the last millennium! Just after meat rationing had been withdrawn! Dear God!
Well, after eating one of my creations I can claim a modified success. They look OK, but I think that I cooked them a little too quickly. One lives and learns. I will produce the Christmas Special Welsh Cakes with a slightly different approach. I think.
I wonder if they will mature by Thursday.
Perhaps taking some jam might be a good idea. Some of those little individual ones in Lidl. The speed of the hand deceives the eye!
It’s all planned.
I hope the Russian turrón will take away the taste!
The day after tomorrow is the last lesson of my Spanish classes for this term. In a moment of cruel madness the teacher asked (to general self conscious silence) what we wanted to do on the last day. ¡Fiesta! (that dreaded word!) was brought up by one of the Russians and then elaborated into reality by the offer of real Russian turrón and accepted by an ever grateful teacher.
With painful memories of the primary school ‘Culture Week’ ever ready to inform my gloomy response it has been decided that each of us will bring to the next class something approaching a tasty seasonal comestible with a specific national flavour.
Put on the spot I had no real idea of anything specifically edible that was particularly associated with Wales and Christmas: at least nothing that I was prepared to make for the day after tomorrow!
Welsh cakes seemed like a feasible idea to me. I am prepared to bet that your typical Moroccan, Russian, Indian, Portuguese, Pakistani, French, Algerian and Italian (to give you some idea of the diversity in my class) will not know the seasonal appropriateness of Welsh cakes and will accept them with alacrity. I will also (to the fury of my Welsh speaking friends) throw in a few seasonal phrases in Welsh – they won’t know what has hit them.
There is but one problem.
I have never made a Welsh cake in my life. Eaten them, yes – but actually got my hands doughy, never.
As my recipe books mostly found themselves going to Oxfam I have had to rely on the internet for my guidance. I am going to have to use a frying pan as I have no bake stone, and even if I had I’m not sure that it would be appropriate athwart the radiant rings on an electric cooker anyway!
I am going to put my faith in something which purports to be a favourite recipe for Welsh cakes by Cerys Matthews. She adds a pinch of all spice and more of a mixture of dried fruit in her version. I have decided that the festive element of my Welsh cakes is going to be a fruit and nut mixture as purchased at great expense from Lidl. I might make a batch of the absolutely ordinary ones as well just to be on the safe side!
The ingredients are fairly basic which meant that I had none of them in the house.
Self raising flour is rare in this part of the world and I don’t know the word or words for it in Spanish. I had no raisins, sultanas, butter or caster sugar. I did have an egg! So I went shopping.
I did mean to get a cut out thingie and a rolling pin, but I forgot. Then I thought that it was not really important. A glass will cut out the cakes and a wine bottle can be used as a roller. I had bought three different types of sugar as not one of them looked like caster sugar. My logic is when you don’t have what you should have then a mixture of what you actually do have might do the job. I was, you might say, prepared.
So just setting out the scales and I would be away.
If I had scales. If I knew where they could be.
At least while looking for the scales I did find the plastic box that would do nicely to put the finished Welsh cakes in.
The scales were eventually found under the sink and cleaned up to look as though they might belong in a kitchen. They were cutting edge technology and I am sure that they would have been more than adequate to their task if the battery had been functional.
It was at that point that I decided to give my strenuous virtual cooking a rest, regroup and consider my options. The lack of battery is an almost insuperable barrier to my culinary expectations. Unless, of course, I find another one.
Which I didn’t.
I’m Back From The Shops Part II – and now it’s serious.
I have bought a rolling pin. I also bought (at the same time) another figure for my Belen and a bicycle pump. Go figure!
I have mixed and kneaded and added and, apart from having too many raisins the mixture looks fine to me. According to Carys I should now leave the mixture in the fridge for half an hour then the Great Experiment with the frying pan. There doesn’t look to be very much mixture and I will have to feed up to about 15 students. I will need to get started on the second batch – though I might be persuaded to leave this feat until tomorrow.
I am trying to remember the last time that I used a rolling pin but I think that it was some time in the last millennium! Just after meat rationing had been withdrawn! Dear God!
Well, after eating one of my creations I can claim a modified success. They look OK, but I think that I cooked them a little too quickly. One lives and learns. I will produce the Christmas Special Welsh Cakes with a slightly different approach. I think.
I wonder if they will mature by Thursday.
Perhaps taking some jam might be a good idea. Some of those little individual ones in Lidl. The speed of the hand deceives the eye!
It’s all planned.
I hope the Russian turrón will take away the taste!
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