I was lucky enough recently to go away with a group of friends to a lovely place where we just wrote, and talked, and thought and imagined, and write, and wandered, and mulled and wrote, and drifted, and bought books, and wrote…
We stayed in a beautiful very old farm which was inspiring in itself, it exuded peace and calm which left minds open and receptive to ideas and with no distractions, apart from glorious views, which were a focus for pondering and thinking before settling back to what we were writing.
There were fresh flowers on the windowsills, some wild and freshly gathered from the sunny banks outside, and a plate of freshly made bakestones, otherwise known as Welsh cakes . They were so delicious they disappeared very rapidly… if I’d thought about it properly, I should have bought some flour and currants when we dropped down to the town of books, and had a go at making some. I’m sure they would not have been as good as our welcome plate, but maybe practice would have made – if not perfect, then at least quite edible! With such an experiment the failures could have been eaten so there would have been no waste… even if they weren’t as perfect as our hosts had made.
Looking at recipes, I noticed that some had baking powder in… I’m quite sensitive to it, and I couldn’t detect it in what we were given… maybe I was to excited to notice! Other recipes use self-raising flour… but which would be more authentic? Flour, butter, eggs sugar… and some fat (traditionally lard or bacon fat I guess) to grease the griddle. The mixture is pulled together with a light hand, and then cooked on a griddle, dusted with sugar (or not) eaten warm with or without butter… yes, I may try making some tomorrow!
Here’s an interesting article and recipe: