“It is graduation day in Carmarthen, and we are going to celebrate my daughter’s toil and tears over the last few years with a meal out. There are a couple of different options to choose from but we opt for the trad restaurant – it has a homely vibe with oak benches, woollen throws and a log fire in winter.

We also like the food here, and have a few family favourite dishes; the brine-and-oat flavoured Cocos a Wya with a side of wilted sea beet is always a treat, as is their take on Anglesey Eggs. Today I order a light starter of Cig Moch Caerfyrddin ar dafell amyd[1] while my wife goes for a whipod; we decide to get a bottle of dry 2020 Radnorshire diodgriafol for the table[2].

These moments are precious, and it’s strange to realize that with a sudden pang in my heart. I had underplayed my own graduation, and it’s only now that I get that I was withholding something valuable from my own parents in so doing. Ironic to suddenly grasp a platitude during an event destined for the family album. Such is life! My reveries are interrupted by the arrival of the glasses and tipple. It’s a close run thing for me between a good Monmouthshire perai and this; the old Welsh drink dichotomy between the fruit of the vales and the fruit of the hills. That takes me back to several walking holidays over the Epynt when I was younger, picking whinberries as we went. I am immensely proud that our daughter has opted for a career in horticulture; and still amazed that the little girl who was helping me with seedlings on what feels like yesterday managed to write that 20,000 word dissertation on the performance of Kazakh tomato varieties under different conditions in field cultivation in Wales.

Conversation swings around to the summer to come, and the building project she and her friends are getting up to – a building for the community tool library on the edge of the community park. My eog a winwns[3] goes down a treat, as do the Cig ar Wyneb Tato and Bwdram a Sgadan on the other plates. Dessert is a must today, and given the season and where we’re eating Sgons Enwyn with fresh strawberries from the restaurant garden and extra buttermilk over rounds things off.”

***

With a few, notable exceptions, there is nothing approaching a Welsh restaurant in Wales today; and again, with exceptions, there are very few Welsh dishes on menus. Locally-sourced ingredients aplenty (thankfully); but dishes that spring out from Welsh cooking…? I sketch some of the reasons as to why this lack came about in Welsh Food Stories but I wanted to outline briefly what eating out in a restaurant serving truly Welsh cuisine would be like, if such a thing existed in a parallel universe.[4] Real gastronomy involves judicious preparation of fresh ingredients at their best, presented as a complete dish. It is about an experience, that links producers to eaters in a moment of satiation and enjoyment and spans the full breadth of cultural life from husbandry to linguistic aplomb. All this could be done with locally produced food of the highest quality, accessible to allcomers in Wales using traditional Welsh dishes with their Cymraeg names. These dishes – ripe for exploration, interpretation and necessarily using the produce that grows best in this land – can sit nicely alongside the best of world cuisine. There is never a contradiction between Cocos a Wya and Paella, or between Teisen Lap and baklava.

That next to none of this Welsh cuisine is currently available to experience is a loss not only to our country, but the world. After all, there’s nowhere else we can go looking for this.

[1] Carmarthen Ham on a maslin slice – that is a traditional, dark sourdough slice made with a mix of barley, rye and wheat flour.

[2] A traditional alcoholic drink made from the fermented berries of the mountain ash.  See brief introduction to the drink on page 176 of Welsh Food Stories.

[3] See p.72 of Welsh Fare. It is of course served with creamy swede and potato Mwtrin (p.19). All dishes mentioned can be found in Tibbot or Freeman.

[4] At the risk of facetiousness, I direct the reader to Brittany to experience the nearest equivalent.