Shw mae lovers of Welsh food and drink – wherever you are in the world.
I can't quite believe I'm saying it, but this little newsletter is four years old. I started it in the midst of lockdown number two (shudder) on a bit of a whim. I was hardly writing anything, as the pandemic had put paid to much of my work as a travel writer. I desperately needed an outlet for my words but also for my own sanity. I can’t speak for other writers but I definitely get rusty if I don’t write for some time. I knew I didn’t want to create a blog (that seemed very 2001) and I had been hearing good things about Substack. I felt it gave a real connection between me the writer and you the reader. So, thanks for letting me land in your inbox each month, and for joining this ever-growing community of Welsh food and drink lovers – nearly 1,000 of them!
Talking of lovers, today is Dydd Santes Dwynwen (Saint Dwynwen’s Day) the Welsh patron saint of love.
The tale goes that Dwynwen grew up in the area that we now know as Bannau Brycheiniog, which gets its name from Dwynwen’s father, King Brychan Brycheiniog, a 5th century ruler of mid-Wales. Dwynwen was said to be the most beautiful of the king’s 24 (yikes!) daughters, and she fell in love with local lad (and as many legends go a bit of a handsome fellow) Maelon. But as is common in so many of these stories, the King had other plans for his daughter and wanted to marry her off to someone else.
Dwynwen was distraught at the thought of never being with her beloved Maelon and ran into the woods in floods of tears. She was praying for help to make her forget all about Maelon when an angel appeared, and gave her a potion that they promised would do the trick. What she didn’t realise, however, was that by drinking it, Maelon would be turned into a block of ice. But Dwynwen was also granted three wishes. Firstly, she wished that Maelon be released from his icy prison, that God would protect all those on the path of true love, and finally that she would never be married.
Dwynwen fled to Llanddwyn Island in Ynys Môn (Anglesey), became a nun and founded a convent. She died around 460AD and people still make pilgrimages to the site today where you’ll see remains of a 16th century church. The fish in the nearby well were said to be able to determine the destiny of lovers who peered into the depths.
So in the spirit of Saint Dwynwen, today I encourage you to show someone that you love them, perhaps with a hug, sending them a message or cooking them a lovely meal (there’s plenty of inspiration in the previous 92 issues if this newsletter!)
Thank you once again for subscribing and reading the Welsh Kitchen.
Diolch o galon,
Ross x
The Recipe
Welsh whisky marmalade
It’s the season for Seville oranges. They are the best for making marmalade as they are naturally bitter. I never used to be a fan of marmalade particularly with the shred in, but now I often favour it over jam. This one has the addition of a good glug of Welsh whisky for an extra-special treat. It is a bit of a process to make, but well worth it for the delight you’ll get each morning when you spread it on your toast. I think it’s also good with cheese.
Ingredients (makes 6-8 jars)
1kg Seville oranges, cut in half
1 lemon, cut in half
2kg granulated sugar
100ml Welsh whisky (I used Aber Falls)
Kit
Jam jars
Muslin
Method
Put a piece of muslin over a large bowl in preparation. Juice the oranges and lemon and pour the juice into a very large pan (I use stainless steel for this with a heavy base).
Scrape the inside of the orange shells to remove the pith. Place all the pith, pips etc in the muslin. Don’t worry about removing every last bit of pith from the orange peel as any small bits will melt in the pan later.
Slice the orange peel into thin strips, any leftover bits and pieces and the lemon husks, you can put in the muslin too. Put the sliced peel in the pan with the juice.
Tie up the muslin bag and pop it in the pan along with 2.5 litres of water. Bring the whole thing to the boil, then turn down and simmer for 2 hours until the peel is really soft when you press it against the side of the pan.
Pop a few saucers in the freezer for later and preheat your oven to low. Remove the muslin bag and pop it in a bowl to cool. Wash your jam jars and pop them in the oven to dry out thoroughly.
When the muslin bag is cool enough to handle, squeeze out all of the pulp and juice into the pan. This is my favourite part! When you got as much out as you can, you can discard the muslin and the contents.
Whisk in the sugar thoroughly over a low heat until completely dissolved – make sure that there are no sugar crystals left. Then bring the whole thing up to a rolling boil for 15 minutes, stirring every few minutes.
Take a saucer out of the freezer and spoon a little of the marmalade onto it and pop in the fridge for a minute or two. If you can push your finger through it and it wrinkles along the saucer, it’s ready. If not continue boiling for a further five minutes and try again until it’s ready.
Allow the marmalade to cool for 5 mins before adding the whisky, be careful as it might froth up.
Remove the jars from the oven and carefully (everything will be hot), spoon the marmalade into the jars and seal with the lid.
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.
January marks the birthdays of Dame Shirley Bassey who turned 88 on the 8th, and Daniel James (Gwyrosydd) who was born on 23 January 1848 and is the writer of one of the most beloved Welsh hymns, Calon Lân. Here are two love songs for Santes Dwynwen.
Almost like being in love by Dame Shirley Bassey
Calon lân by Cerys Matthews
An anniversary discount
To celebrate four years of the Welsh Kitchen, I’m offering 40 per cent off yearly subscriptions. That means it’s just £12 for the whole year.
From the archive
What do you eat when you don’t know what to eat?
It might come as a bit of a surprise, but until the age of about 16, I was a fussy eater. I played it safe where food was involved, opting for the familiar and comforting rather than the unknown or exotic. I liked Sunday dinners (roasts), sausage, beans and chips, fish fingers, bread and butter, ham sandwiches. Talking of ham sandwiches, I must have eat…
Sustenance, sing-offs and a horse's skull
There are many weird and wonderful traditions and customs in Wales – carving a spoon out of wood to show someone you love them for instance – but there’s one that for me is by far the oddest: the Mari Lwyd.