plate 26: wales

Firstly, let me indulge in a little joy: I've now eaten my way halfway around the world - hurrah! Twenty-six plates devoured and 26 more to discover. Ah, that expression of delight felt good.

Secondly, I know "England, Ireland, Wales, Scotland" doesn't have the same ring to it, and I know I'm not one who usually breaks the rules, but time was limited this week. So to make things a little easier for myself I settled for cheese on toast. No ordinary cheese on toast. Welsh cheese on toast, AKA Welsh rabbit or rarebit depending on your school of writing. Cooking Welsh this week was not an ode to the birthplace of our new female prime minister, just a little coinkidink. Just in case you've been living under a rock, here she is.

I was excited about what our dinner of cheese on toast was to entail: stout cooked with double cream until thick, stirred into grated cheddar with hot English mustard and a splash of Worcestershire sauce, all smothered on Bourke St Bakery sourdough and grilled until bubbling. Sadly, though, I was a little underwhelmed. While I did enjoy the rich, intense taste, there were a few things that may have affected the flavour. (And it wasn't that I misunderstood the recipe like I have misunderstood Welsh people in the past - man those accents are crazy!)

One: we forgot to buy the cheese. For cheese on toast? Yes, for cheese on toast. I triple-checked the almost-bare fridge, opening and closing the door every few minutes in sheer bewilderment. I even checked the freezer and the pantry to see if we had mistakenly stored it in the wrong place. Nope, no cheese. So I tried to find a solution. Have you ever tried grating sliced cheese? No, me neither, and I don't recommend it - time consuming, messy and rather annoying. So the cheese mixture ended up being a mishmash of semi-grated semi-torn sliced vintage cheddar and the remainder of a shreeded pizza cheese packet.

Two: the stout and double cream mixture split and, it pains me to say it, resembled a brain as the oil from the cream swirled its way through the browning stout.

But I pressed on and the rarebit made it to the table. Dinner friends seemed to rather enjoy it, but I'd like to give it another go with the right cheese, which is apparently Welsh caerphilly - a semi-firm white, crumbly cheese - and the right-textured cream mixture. Apparently many Welsh folk keep a bowl of the cheese mixture in the fridge for a midnight snack. I suspect it'd be very good food after stumbling home from a big night out or when in need of curing a hangover. To see if it works, or just to see if you can make it better than me, try this recipe.

What I also wanted to make, but ran out of time, is Welsh fruit loaf: bara brith (said "barra breeth"). The ingredients for this I do have.