Hapus dydd dewi sant
When I was young, my dad used to always make sure that my sister and I knew we were partly Welsh. He lived in Wales for the first 30 or so years of his life, and Swansea University in Wales is where he met my mom. While he himself is actually only ¼ Welsh, he claims that it’s personal identity that defines you, and for that he is 100% Welsh. So growing up, we all jumped on board with this. My mom is English, and every year we would get together and watch the England v. Wales rugby match and it would be a this big family rivalry and a ton of fun. Being Welsh had become a very big part of my childhood (ending with my dad ceremoniously giving me his vintage Welsh rugby jersey when I left for college, making me promise to “wear it with pride”).
A lot of my favorite memories have to do with Wales-related things – visiting the beautiful country side, watching sports – but one stands out the most. March 1st is Saint David’s Day. Saint David is the patron saint of Wales, and March 1st is a day of feasting to honor the day of his death. There are a lot of Welsh traditions centered around this day, costumes, daffodils, dragons, food, but my family’s favorite is making Welsh cakes.
I can’t really describe to you what a Welsh cake is, because it’s very unique. It’s kind of like a small thick pancake, it’s got currents and cinnamon in it, but it’s delicious. Every year, my mom and sister and I would get in the kitchen and make batch after batch of Welsh cakes, sometimes finishing the day with hundreds of them! I would bring them to school to share with my friends, and we would take them to neighbor’s houses decorated with daffodils. Once, after my older sister went to college, we even drove up and brought the baking to her. It’s one of my favorite holidays.
And then I came to college. March 1st of my freshman year rolled around and my mom sent me a care package of Welsh cakes. It was exciting, but I was left feeling like something was missing. I realized that I didn’t look forward to dessert itself, but rather the full afternoon spent baking and laughing with my mom and sister. But then I decided that it didn’t have to end with me leaving home. I decided I would continue this tradition and bring my friends into it and teach them about my heritage and this part of my life.
Two days ago, on March 1st, my mom texted me a picture of her freshly baked batch of cakes along with the recipe. And yesterday, I went out and bought the ingredients and came back to my house and made Welsh cakes with my roommates. They weren’t as good as the ones my mom makes, but it was the act of making them with people I love that mattered.
So here’s the recipe, straight from my mom:
“8oz of plain flour
2oz shortening
2oz margarine
2oz sugar
3oz currants
1 tspn baking powder
1 tspn mixed spice ( or cinnamon)
1 egg beaten mixed with 1 tbspn milk
Rub fats into flour with finger tips until it looks like breadcrumbs. Stir in baking powder, sugar and then currants.
Stir in egg and combine to form dough. Roll or pat out on a floured surface until 1/2 inch thick. Cut into rounds. Heat griddle to high then add dough rounds. Cook about 3 mins in each side. Sprinkle with sugar while hot.
Enjoy!! ❤”
