A Modern way to Cook by Anna Jones

Always last to jump on a bandwagon (or anything for that matter - I didn't realise I had to do anything with my eyebrows until I was well into my 20s, and dealing with bushy eyebrows is no bandwagon issue), I have only recently come across Anna Jones. Friend and erstwhile employee of Jamie Oliver; Slender of leg, blonde of hair, vegetarian wholefood enthusiast...

You might have thought I'd be more than a little dismissive. I am, after all the person who sent Deliciously Ella back whence it came (my mum) a few short months ago for reasons too numerous to mention (oh, OK then - I found it irritatingly smug, couldn't connect to the writing style or the writer, there was, frankly, far too much quinoa in the first few pages for her to be credible, and what I really wanted was Diana Henry's 'A Bird in the Hand' but obviously I hadn't been hinting hard enough.)

But we're not talking about Deliciously Ella or A Bird in the Hand (although I will return to Diana Henry in a later blog). We're talking about Anna Jones and A Modern Way to Cook and, swoon, my latest food crush.

I'm never going to be a vegetarian but I flirt with reducing the amount of meat in our diet for numerous reasons. I am conscious that there are calories and there are calories and I need to make them count. A Modern Way to Cook seems to tick both boxes. There are many vegetarian cookery books that I've tried and enjoyed but are very cream and cheese laden, thus defeating the object of my latest quest to make my calories count in the right way. Anna Jones' approach to food seems to be easy and straightforward. Ditch the refined sugar, choose alternatives to dairy, cut out the meat. Yes, my cupboards now groan with a wider selection of pulses and unrefined sugar options (Agave syrup, anyone) but get your head around that and you're laughing. And feeling lighter and generally more energetic. Really. Couple this shift in culinary preferences with a surprisingly successful Dry January and I'm feeling perkier than I can ever remember for this time of year which usually drags me right down. To top it all - and probably crucial to this feeling of well being - is that I don't feel like I've been hard done by in the food department. AND I'm half a stone lighter than I was at the end of December.

So what have I cooked? Admittedly, I've majored on the baking section in A Modern Way to Eat - I am after all trying to lose a bit of weight, but I love a treat, so if I can make the contents of my cake tins healthier, that's got to be a good thing. There's a totally divine 'Ultimate Pecan Banana Bread' combining bananas, oats, pecans, maple syrup - as a connoisseur of banana loaf this comes in very close to the top of my list of banana loaves to bake; 

A Carrot Cake Flapjack which somehow combines the best of both carrot cake and flapjack without eggs, flour or refined sugar; 

Dark Chocolate Goodness Cookies - who would have believed you could use cannellini beans to such amazing effect?! If you've read any of my blog before, you'll know how much of a cake fan I am. Of course, these don't taste the same as my usual bakes, but different is good, and I am converted.

I served up celeriac, bay and mushroom ragu the other evening - it disappeared. And if comfort food is what you need, rhubarb apple and maple pan crumble is a revelation - scrummy crumble topping with none of the heaviness to leave you groaning afterwards for hours...

Honeyed rye bread was delicious (despite a slightly over-enthusiastic crust - it's a few months since I've baked bread and I need to get my mojo back) especially topped with avocado and roasted tomatoes with a cheeky fried egg on the side.

And if this is all seeming like it's too good to be true, well, I have had one disaster. I made some lush kale pesto (inspired by lunch in a local cafe, of which more another time) and decided to 'knock up' some chick pea pasta - from A Modern Way to Cook - to serve it with. The very idea of 'knocking up' fresh pasta, chickpea or otherwise, on a week night when I was tried from work and had hungry mouths to feed, shows just how much confidence Ms Jones had instilled in me. Of course I ended up with a sticky unworkable disaster that I had to chuck away before reaching for the dried pasta. But I feel this was probably more down to user error than anything else. My chickpea flour was somewhat old, and I didn't have ground flax seed as required, so tried to whizz up ordinary flax seed in a food processor to use instead. Disaster, disaster, but I will try it again another day.

There are still plenty of the recipes in A Modern Way to Cook that feel a little too worthy for me, a step too far down the road to kale oblivion, but I'm getting over that. Anna Jones puts together really delicious flavour combinations, and her useful charts suggesting combinations for salads and the like are worth digesting (pun intended). My meal plan for this week includes lentils with roast tomatoes and horseradish, and I can't wait to try frying pan Turkish flatbreads with spoon salad. Some of the ingredients are something of a challenge to locate here in very rural West Wales, but there are ways around that. In the same way that Nigella seems to instil the confidence to experiment, so I feel I can enter our local health food shop, Go Mango in Cardigan, with my head held high and ask if they might possibly stock freekeh...


So, in conclusion, A Modern Way to Eat - definitely worth a read. Certainly worth an experiment. A worthy addition to any shelf of cookery books. But you probably already knew that, didn't you...

Printed Chocolates

Let me talk to you about chocolate (never a chore). More specifically, Printed Chocolates. 

Pretty cool - and pretty tasty too. 

Good quality Belgian chocolate - milk, dark, white - and great flavours such as salted caramel and a delicious mint filling. It's already a winner in my book but what makes Printed Chocolates really interesting is the 'printed' element. Edible ink printed directly onto the chocolate sets Printed Chocolates apart from other novelty bars that you might have come across.

The other great thing about Printed Chocolates is the thought and imagination that has gone into them. In the run up to the General Election, Ipad-sized bars, a specific flavour representing each prime ministerial candidate... 

For the recent Rugby World Cup (did you miss it? such things are not possible here in Wales), each member of the Welsh squad received a commemorative bar. if you're running a business and looking for something different to the average business card, well, how does a chocolate business card sound? The other great idea is to use Printed Chocolates as wedding favours or thank yous. I just wish they'd been around when the Husband and I got married...

The force behind Printed Chocolates is Lee Ann Smith who has re-ignited a passion for chocolate making that she's harboured since childhood in South Africa. The less clement climate of South West Wales, where she's made her home, led her to retreat to her kitchen where Printed Chocolates was born. I met Lee Ann through the Women in Rural Enterprise networking organisation, and when she asked me if I'd write a blog I was only too happy to oblige.

Of course, what you're really wanting to know is how do they taste? Well, they taste great. 

There's no flavour from the edible inks that are used to customise the chocolates, so all you get is a chocolate hit. The flavoured bars I tried, salted caramel and mint, were balanced well so the chocolate casings and fillings complemented each other rather than one flavour overwhelming the other. I enjoyed them a great deal. I also very much enjoyed the little bag of truffles Lee Ann sent me to try along with the bars. Inspired by something she'd seen on Australian MasterChef, she'd created a dessert she hadn't been that happy with but turned into truffle form and rolled in crumble topping - bingo - something very delicious indeed.

If you're in business and looking for a quirky, chocolatey promotional vehicle, or if you're looking for a way to give a personalised gift for an event, these are a fantastic option! 

Baked Scotch Eggs

It was, apparently, Eleanor Roosevelt that said "Do one thing everyday that scares you".

Do I agree that this is a basis for a life well-lived? I think, on balance, yes. I scare myself every day, in negative (driving too fast down narrow country lanes to get the kids to the bus in the morning) and positive (putting myself out there for work - in fact, being freelance scares me low level all the time in a "what if no one wants me to work for them" kind of way then realising that people do want me to work for them) ways, and on balance, I think scaring yourself in a positive kind of way is a good thing. The negative kind of scaring, where nothing positive comes out of it at the end (apart from getting the kids on to the bus, thereby avoiding an additional 20 minutes drive) is not so good.

But this is all fairly pointless pondering for the moment. I don't have to scare myself any more for at least 6 months, because last weekend, I went coasteering and scared the complete bejesus out of myself - in an exhilarating and positive "definitely do it again" kind of way. And this kind of scaring yourself is something I'd totally recommend, and makes me understand exactly what Eleanor Roosevelt was talking about. About stepping out of your comfort zone - in this case, quite literally: 12 m jump into the Blue Lagoon anyone - and surviving. Feeling the fear and doing it anyway never felt so real or so amazing. And when your 9 year old daughter has done it first, really, there's no option...

(this is me, btw, not the daughter)

As I've wittered on ad nauseam on here, the coastline where we live is completely stunning, and what better way to enjoy it than kitted up and with the full immersion of clambering over swimming round, leaping off and generally enjoying the coastline a little bit further away from the madding crowd. Abereiddy, Pembrokeshire was our destination

Celtic Quest Coasteering our amazingly fun, competent, utterly confidence-inspiring guides as we donned wetsuits, helmets, bouyancy aids, gloves and set off for one of the most brilliant and terrifying afternoons I've had for a long time, albeit that I had to spend quite a lot of time trying not to lose my contact lenses....

And to fuel this afternoon of adrenaline, baked scotch eggs: lovely eggs from our new neighbours' chickens, sausage & bacon from the butcher, my latest chilli sauce discovery, from Estelle's Gower Goodies and some homegrown chives... And because they are baked, they are healthy. Or less bad for you than the deep fried variety. Not very scary, but hey, you can't have anything.

Baked Scotch Eggs

for 5 Scotch eggs

5 large eggs - free range, organic, from your neighbour, if possible...
2 shallots, finely chopped
5 fat pork sausages, skinned (about 350g sausage meat)
1-2 tablespoons chilli sauce
1 slice of brown bread, turned into breadcrumbs
good handful of chives (or parsley), finely chopped
3 slices of streaky bacon

You also need a muffin tin - one with deep holes.

Hardboil your eggs - I do this by putting the eggs in a pan and covering to about 1 cm depth with cold water. Bring the water to the boil, then simmer the eggs for around 6-7 minutes. If you over cook them you start to get horrid black lines round the yolk, and also I like the yolks being not quite solid. But if you're pregnant or cooking for babies or small children, you probably wan to simmer for 8 minutes. 

Once cooked for the requisite time, plunge the eggs into cold water to stop them cooking, and leaving the shells till needed.

Turn your oven on to 200C/180 fan.

Gently sweat off the shallots in a little olive oil for 10-15 minutes, then set aside to cool a little.

Combine the sausage meat, cooled shallot, chilli sauce, breadcrumbs, chopped chives and a good grind of pepper until well mixed.

Peel the hardboiled eggs (one of my favourite cooking things to do).

Divide the sausage mixture into 5 and then flatten  a portion of sausage into your hand and wrap an egg in it, squidging and shaping as you go.

When all eggs are wrapped, cut the rashers of bacon in half, then stretch each half with the back of a knife and wrap each sausage-coated egg in a piece of bacon.

Pop each bacon wrapped, sausage coated egg into a hole in the muffin tin and bake for 25-30 minutes.

Remove from the muffin tin onto some kitchen paper to get rid of any more fat which hasn't drained into the bottom of the muffin tin, then leave to cool and enjoy as if it were your last meal, before heading off for adventure...

Linking this up with the Simply Eggcellent challenge on Belleau Kitchen where for June, 'anything goes'...

Salmon on a board

Food, like music, is something that can instantly transport me to a time or place, intricately associated with feelings - usually happy ones, I have to say - I don't have many bad memories associated with food (apart from tripe).

My memories of 2 trips to the States, for example, are chiefly those of the $10 lobster dinners, corn dogs, and frozen margaritas the Husband and I enjoyed on our first proper holiday together to New Orleans, and of a fabulous salad with deliciously cold white wine my friends and I ate on a roof top garden in Manhattan - very Sex and the City, although we were none of us searching for love, only enjoying each others company for a long weekend...

France is enmeshed with a series of memories for me - lusciously ripe peaches and tomatoes purchased from road side stalls on the south west Mediterranean coast, the freshest tower of fruits de mer eaten in a restaurant on a harbour wall somewhere on the Cherbourg peninsula - the crabs being fished to order out of the sea, snails eaten in various guises, the first - and only - meat fondue I've ever had, at the age of 16, the day after I arrived for an exchange visit with a family that I am still in touch with nearly 30 years later... And salmon, nailed to a board and cooked over a fire, Finnish style, when I was an au pair in my late teens, early 20s.

The salmon always fascinated me. The family I was helping out had moved to an old farmhouse that was being renovated. The kitchen was out of action and we were BBQ-ing most days. The father of the family, Bruno, would appear home from work with various delicacies, and one evening, announced we would be having saumon Finlandais. I can't remember what it tasted like (unusual) but the mere fact that it was cooked in such an unconventional manner and was edible, amazed me. At that point, I hadn't done much in the way of camping...

So it's always been on my mind to recreate this, and it turns out the Husband wanted to try it too, and eager to create some memories (not necessarily food-related) for the kids, we headed down to our local beach, Mwnt, for some late afternoon bodyboarding and a cookout on the beach. I'd like to say we caught our fish but we didn't, but you can't have everything, can you...

And literally, all you do is get a decent piece of wood - we had some oak board, nail your piece of salmon to it,

and wedge it next to your fire while it cooks.

You can always cook some sausages while you're waiting...

I'd love to be able to include beautiful shots here of the food on the beach, perfectly styled, but this is what really happened, - beach food, that we ate...

And another food memory - 6 months pregnant with Blue, in Winchester with the Husband's amazing Great Aunt visiting from Australia, eating juicy cherries in the Cathedral grounds on a blazing hot day. Every time I've eaten cherries since, I've thought of that moment. But we had cherries this evening, after the salmon, bought from a local market garden, Glebelands, this morning. We ate them as the sun finally dropped behind the 'mwnt' itself...

I think perhaps cherries will trigger a new memory from now on.

Lemon & Poppy Seed Cake

So, there it is then (as they say around here).

We have bought a house here in West Wales. 

A wonderful house. A house that I have carried around in my heart since I stepped over the threshold in January, through the stress and embuggerance that is buying houses in England and Wales (it may be the same else where - I don't know - I understand that in other places it is a lot easier), through the initial silence between our offer being accepted and anything actually happening, through the last minute boundary issue and the changing of completion dates (which also coincided with me doing my back in and Blue sustaining a minor head injury, all while the Husband was back in England for a series of meetings. Never a dull moment, I tell you),,the mysterious missing document (not ours) on completion day a couple of days ago, to moving day.

The bottom line is that my home will always be where the Husband and the children are, but to be able to live in a house like this and call it ours, for it to coincide with where the Husband and children are, so making it home, well, it makes me very happy.

There is work to be done, and I'm sure there will be much cursing and swearing as we go, but for now, it's all good. Busy, but good. And you know me well enough by now to know that in amongst the hectic pace of life, there is always time for cake, especially a lemon cake. 

Loosely based (isn't it always) in this case on yet another of Mr Dan Lepard's fine creations, this came about more as the result of having another purge through the cupboards in advance of moving day than anything else. I seem to have a selection of opened packets of poppy seeds in my cupboards yet no recollection of using them in anything, I didn't have enough lemons, my oatmeal was medium and not fine, and yet, this is a divine cake. More texture than your classic lemon drizzle, good flavour, and a good keeper (it actually makes quite a lot of cake). It also tastes fantastic with a cup of tea - great for keeping removal men incentivised...

Lemon & Poppy Seed Cake

250g plain flour
2 tsp baking powder
75g medium oatmeal
30g poppy seeds
225g golden caster sugar
125g unsalted butter at room temperature
100ml vegetable oil
zest of 2 lemons
1 tsp lemon extract
4 large eggs
50 ml hot water

150g caster sugar (doesn't have to be golden), plus extra
juice of 2 lemons

Line a 20cm square, high sided tin with greaseproof paper, and pre-heat the oven to 180 C (160C fan).

Sift together the flour  baking powder then add the oatmeal and poppy seeds, stir to combine, and set aside.

Beat together the sugar, butter, oil, lemon zest and extract until the whole thing is  pale and light, then add the eggs one at a time, beating well after each addition. Once the eggs are all combined, beat in the hot water until everything is smooth.

Beat the flour, oatmeal and poppy seeds into the batter, then transfer into the prepared tin and bake for around 45-50 minutes.

Make the lemon syrup by combining 150g caster sugar with the juice of 2 lemons in a small saucepan and gently heating till the sugar is dissolved. While the cake is still warm, poke holes all over it with a skewer and pour the syrup all over it.

Leave the cake to cool, then sprinkle over a couple of extra spoons of caster sugar. Yes, I know it's a lot, but sometimes, it's necessary. Cut into generous pieces and put the kettle on.

Enjoy!

Lamb Saag Balti

We had guests for the weekend and for the first time we couldn''t just skip off to the beach with gay abandon and lashings of ginger beer. I mean we did go to the beach, but our expeditions required planning, waterproofs and a little more thought - mainly to prevent smaller members of the party being blown off the coastal path into the sea.

The problems would not have been insurmountable - and worst case scenario there are always the water slides at Bluestone - a heady attraction some 50 minutes drive from here - to which we have not yet succumbed to (well the weather has been too good) - but, you know, part of the reason people come to this part of the country is for the wild beauty of the coast (of course, the guests have, we hope, come to see us too), and 'wild beauty' we hope we gave them.

As is often the case, the weather forecast's gloomy outlook did not entirely prevail. Yes it was windy, but the rain held off, during the day (mostly) at least. It was warm, and occasionally there was a peek of blue sky.

On Saturday, we ventured south from  Ceredigion into North Pembrokeshire and walked the ruggedly spectacular section of the coastal path south from Ceibwr Bay to check out the Witches Cauldron - a pool accessible from the open sea via an interesting looking cave/tunnel. Something to explore in more detail on a lower tide and, we decided,as the waves crashed round us, echoing up the cliffs like thunderclaps, a calmer day... 

We refuelled on tea and cake (and milkshakes and ice creams) at the fabulous Pavillion Cafe that you should seek out in the Penrallt Garden Centre above Moylegrove should you find yourself in the area, then headed home for sausages and chunky chips for the kids, and this delicious curry for the grown ups.

I found this beauty in Simon Rimmer's book "Men Love Pies, Girls Like Hummus". Not entirely sure I approve of the title, even though in the introduction, Mr Rimmer does defend against accusations of culinary misogyny. For the record, I love pies as much as the next man (and given that the next man is the Husband, quickly followed by Blue, that means I love pies ALOT). I do also like hummus, but given the choice, I'd probably have a pie.

Anyway, enough of this silliness. Whether you approve of the title or not, I first stumbled across Simon Rimmer in the form of "The Accidental Vegetarian" when I was looking for inspiration and veggie food to serve to my mother in law that is colourful and full of flavour - not just brown and over-salted - and have been a bit of a fan ever since. 


I hadn't heard of this book, but I picked it up in The Works when I was looking for something else entirely, and it was only £2.99 - bit of a bargain really when it is full of absolutely rocking dishes. Corned Beef Pot Pie, Wild Boar & Coriander Burgers with Sweet Roasted Peppers, Beetroot & Celeriac Filo Pie (mother in law is visiting again soon), Pork Empanadas and Baked Cuban Spiced Chicken with Rice have all rushed onto my 'must try' soon - like really soon - list.That's the things with cookery books, isn't it? There are some which are beautiful, listing wonderful dishes, gorgeously photographed, that in reality are never going to make it on to your table, and others which you know you will cook from time and time again. Nigella's Kitchen is one of these for me, as is River Cottage Every Day. Of course, which books fall in to which categories will change depending on the cook and his or her circumstances at the time, but Men Love Pies, Girls Like Hummus is absolutely spot on for me right now.

I used lovely Welsh lamb from one of the butchers in Cardigan, and the amazing chilli the Husband grew. I also made this on Friday and left it overnight - I think curries and casseroles often benefit from this as the flavours develop, and also I didn't want to be tied to the cooker once our friends had arrived and there was wine to be drunk...

Lamb Saag Balti

Serves 4 (along with dahl, rice and poppadums - we'd had a lot of fresh air, OK?)

1 large onion
3 garlic cloves
a thumb sized piece of fresh ginger
1 large green chilli (check out this bad boy)
1 tbsp each of cumin and coriander seeds
2 cardamom pods
6 large tomatoes
750g diced lamb shoulder
1 tsp turmeric 
I lamb stock cube 
300g baby leaf spinach (or normal spinach, stalks removed)
Vegetable oil for frying

Peel & quarter the onion, peel the garlic cloves, peel and roughly chop the ginger and depending on the heat of your chilli and how much you like, deseed it - and then roughly chop it.

Blend the onion, garlic, ginger and chilli to make a smooth, wet paste.

Dry fry the cumin and coriander seeds in a small frying pan for a couple of minutes till they smell delicious and fragrant, then grind up in a pestle and mortar and set aside.

Bash the cardamom pods a little, then quarter the tomatoes, removing the tough core bit.

Make up the stock cube with 300ml boiling water.

In a large pan,  heat about a tablespoon of vegetable oil and then brown the meat in batches. Set aside.

Add a little more oil to the pan and gently cook out the onion paste till the liquid has evaporated - it will take 10-15 minutes. Stir regularly and make sure the paste doesn't burn.

Once the paste is cooked out, return the lamb to the pan along with the dry seeds and turmeric, the tomatoes and the stock. Bring the pan to the boil, then reduce the heat as low as you can to ensure a gentle simmer and leave to cook for 45 minutes - 1 hour, stirring occasionally.

If you're serving straight away, add the spinach about 5 minutes before the end of the cooking time. If you're serving the next day (or another day entirely) leave the curry to cool and keep in the fridge over night, or freeze. Gently reheat, add the spinach leaves and cook for 5 minutes till the spinach has cooked.

Serve.

Gammon Cawl and Cheesey Garlicky Scones

So those of you who may have become just a teensy weensy bit sick of the photos I keep posting up here of the clear blue skies and sun-kissed beaches of the West Wales coast during what has been, on anyone's view, an absolutely fantastic summer, will be pleased to know that as I write (07:36 on a Sunday morning) the wind that has been howling around the house for the last 36 hours is still doing a good job of trying to blow us off our hill, the rain squalling in torrential downpours. The stormy - and post stormy - skies have their own special appeal, but granted it's not everyone's cup of tea and I haven't exactly welcomed the reappearance of my waterproof trousers into the daily dog walking routine with joy...

The change in the weather is not all bad (honestly!) - it's like that bit that Nigella writes in, Domestic Goddess, when she talks about the Norwegian Cinammon Buns -  "I've always thought that bad weather has its compensations, most of them culinary."This is a view I subscribe to wholeheartedly. While I'm all for tasty salads and delicate desserts in their place, my cooking comfort zone is in soups and casseroles, big dishes of crumble, jugs of custard... Summer and hot weather can be something of a challenge for me in the kitchen, so bizarrely, while I'm (mostly inwardly) weeping at the inability to get the washing dry and gnashing my teeth at having to pull on waterproof trousers and wellies to walk the dog instead of slopping about in flipflops, my kitchen heart sings for joy as I pull out the slow cooker and stock up on bay leaves...

Cawl is very much back on the weekly menu these days. You may remember a couple of months back, I took the opportunity to wax a bit lyrical about how fantastic the kids had been in the immediate aftermath of the move here. Having spent most of the summer term going to a language centre to be taught on an intensive Welsh course, they are now speaking Welsh with what appears to be alarming fluency (especially when they are bickering), and well versed in all manner of Welsh customs, including bursting unprovoked into renditions of Sosban Fach and Ar Hyd y Nos, Blue will be off to the Millenium Stadium to watch his first international rugby match in a few weeks' time wearing a Welsh rugby shirt...

They are loving their school, and the dinners continue to be a big hit. They enjoyed the school dinners at their old school, but they always came home ravenous. Here, though, there are seconds and thirds on offer. It is not unusual for them to refuse the treat that I meet them with from the bus because they are still full from lunch. So my longheld dream of being able to provide an easy tea on school dinner days is realised. And while making scones is not everyone's idea of an 'easy tea', bear in mind that while the kids would be happy with the cawl alone, I also have the Husband (and myself) to feed, and a little fiddling about in the kitchen is actually quite enjoyable, especially when the majority of the meal is in the slow cooker.

Gammon Cawl

500g piece of unsmoked gammon
150g soup mix (dried beans and pulses)
1 large onions
2 carrots
1 leek (it is Wales after all)
1.2 litres vegetable or chicken stock
1 bay leaf
4 cloves

The night before, remove the gammon from the packaging and put in a bowl. Cover with water and leave to soak. Measure the dried beans and pulses into a measuring jug and add 5 times the volume of water. Leave both overnight.

In the morning, get out the slow cooker and heat to high.

Peel and chop the onion and carrots, and wash and slice the leek. Drain the pulses.

Put the chopped veg and the pulses into a pan, add the stock, bring to the bowl and boil rapidly for 10 minutes, scooping off any scum.

Meanwhile, remove the gammon from the soaking water and add to the slow cooker. Once the stock has boiled for the requisite time, pour the contents of the pan over the gammon, chuck in the cloves and bay leaf, pop the lid on and leave till dinner time.

When you're getting close to dinner time, make the scones.

Cheesey Garlicky Scones

100g plain flour
100g spelt flour
2 tsp baking powder
1 tsp English mustard powder
1 tsp smoked paprika
1/2 tsp salt
1 tsp caster sugar
1 clove of garlic, mashed up
50g unsalted butter diced quite small
150g mature cheddar cheese, diced quite small
1 large egg
4 tbsp low fat natural yoghurt

Preheat the oven to 200C and line a baking tray with greaseproof paper.

Sift the flours, baking powder, mustard powder and smoked paprika into a bowl and combine, then stir in the salt, sugar and garlic.

Add the butter and begin by 'cutting it in' to the flour mix with a knife, then move on to rub the butter in with your fingers till it has almost disappeared.

Stir the cheese through the flour mixture, then whisk together the egg and yoghurt, and combine this with the flour to make a soft dough.

Flour a work surface and your hands, then shape the dough into a rough rectangle/oval (I'm not fussy) about 4 cm thick, then cut into 6 pieces.

Use a palette knife to transfer the scone pieces onto the baking tray and mak sure they have a bit of space between them to expand.

Bake for 25-30 minutes till golden.

While the scones are baking, remove the gammon from the slow cooker to a board or large plate and pull the meat apart using a couple of forks.

 Once shredded, return it to the pot ready to serve.

Serve a steaming bowl of cawl with some cheesey garlicky scones on the side. Rainy day dinner time heaven. 

Enjoy with a side helping of Welsh folk songs. Take it away, Cerys...