St. David’s Day at the Local Pub
St Davids Day
We’re excited about heading to the local tonight.
It’s my first St David’s Day since living in Wales and though I’ve never heard if it while living in America, I’ve been told it’s a big deal. St. Patrick’s Day, of course, is huge in America. Chicago dyes the river green, or greener than it usually is, and for a day or two everyone seems to forget about hating immigrants. One of the strangest things about America is the way some people can be enormously curious and proud of their family’s own immigrant heritage while seeking to pin blame on new groups of people only seeking exactly the same thing their own grandparents or great-grandparents did – a safer and more stable place to live.
One of the first things that struck me as interesting when I arrived in Wales, after that whole bit about the washing machine being in the kitchen of course, was the prevailing view on Polish immigrants. This was just before Poland became a full member of the EU, but a trickle of workers had begun entering the UK looking for jobs that paid enough to keep them here while hopefully providing a bit extra to send back home. While Poles back in the Chicago area were often the butt of the joke about three guys entering a bar, here they were being rightfully praised as dependable and hardworking, doing the menial jobs that were otherwise hard to fill. Sound familiar? I’m sure it does, because every nation seems to have a group of people like this, that then, just as the Eastern Europeans in the UK and the Mexicans in America, gets wrongfully blamed when the economy tanks. Every country seems to need or want a scapegoat.
Of course, the funny thing is that the St Patrick celebrated with glee by the descendants of Irish immigrants in America wasn’t even Irish. He himself was technically an immigrant to Ireland having been captured by pirates from his home in England. Or Scotland. Or Wales even, depending on the version of the story. St Andrew of Scotland appears to have been born in Israel. And St. George? You know, the one whose cross is represented on the English flag that is now sadly and uncomfortably associated a little too closely with anti-immigration movements, racism and hate speech? He’s Greek. Or some scholars believe even might be Syrian. The irony in that as far-right media personalities cloak themselves in it while gleefully posting about children drowning while their families try and flee a warzone, eh? In fact, the Welsh are quick to point out that the only patron saints from the British Isles who wasn’t an immigrant is David, who was born in Pembrokeshire.
The pub has been decorated for the celebration and small vases of daffodils adorn nearly every table. In the corner, a space has been cleared for the much-touted musical act, which appears to be a pensioner and his electronic organ. The landlord’s wife is handing out photocopied sheets of song lyrics which, judging from the ringed stains on them, might just have been used in previous celebrations; but in a nation full of male-voice choirs, a lyric sheet for “Bread of Heaven” hardly seems necessary. If there is one thing the Welsh love besides their rugby, it’s a good sing.
We take a page of lyrics and our pints to a corner table where some friends are sitting. Once the music starts, the lyrics prove worthless to me anyhow as I haven’t a hope of keeping up with any sort of tempo while singing in Welsh. Instead I take a full drink of my pint and survey the crowd assembled.
The pub is the fullest I’ve seen in ages, but still there aren’t really any new faces. It’s more just that every regular and semi-regular who lives in or near the village has made a point to come out tonight – a good example of the national pride the Welsh have. For good or bad, the Welsh will always turn out to support Wales.
At first when I moved to Wales I admit I thought the country a bit archaic, a bit out of step with modern life. Not in a bad way, mind you. Ever the romantic, I found it quaint, which I now realize is a bit demeaning. I have since realized that much of this is not at all the innocence of the unfashionable country bumpkin, but a deep rooted pride of their country and its traditions. It’s born of a gracious contentment and pride in what they have.
The night draws to a close and we leave our empty glasses on the bar before stumbling back home with a few friends in tow. Down the lane I can still hear a rich baritone voice as it echoes between the tightly spaced houses.
Bread of heaven! Bread of hea–a — ven!!
Feed me till I want no more! — want no more!
Feed me till I — wa–ant —no — more!!!
A nice sentiment, but all that singing has left us hungry. We finish off the celebration in a traditional Welsh style by ordering kebabs.
AuthorCJ TothDifficultyBeginnerLeeks are one of the national symbols of Wales and this humble ingredient is used with pride in a number of dishes. The zing of mustard in this dish is both warming and energizing, helping cut the heaviness of the creamy sauce, which is perfect for scooping up with chunks of a light but crusty bread like a baguette. It would work nicely with noodles as well, long flat ones such as tagliatelle. Not Welsh, but still tasty!
Place the chicken between layers of plastic wrap and bash it with a rolling pin or heavy object until it’s an even thickness, then toss it in a bowl or plastic bag, and pour over enough olive oil to coat. Squeeze in the juice from 1 lemon and add the sliced garlic. Season generously with salt and pepper and leave for 30 minutes or as long as you can. If you have 10 minutes, that’s fine. Overnight in the fridge is fine too. It’s up to you.
When you are ready to cook, heat a few tablespoons of olive oil in a large skillet. Add the sliced leeks and cook until just starting to brown then remove them from the pan and set aside. Take the chicken from the marinade, brush off any lemon seeds or bits of garlic and add it to the pan. Brown it on both sides, then remove it to a plate to keep warm.
Add another splash of oil to the skillet, then add the onion. Cook until they begin to sweat, then add the crushed garlic and cook for another minute or so. Add the wine to deglaze the pan, scraping up any of the tasty browned bits on the bottom with a wooden spatula. Place the chicken in the pan again, turn the heat to low and cook for 15-20 minutes or until chicken is cooked through.
Before serving, stir in the Dijon mustard and the cream. (It might help to add a few tablespoons of the hot liquid into the cream first before pouring it into the pan so it doesn’t separate.) Add the leeks back to the pan and cook until all is warmed through.
For a thicker sauce, add a tablespoon of cornflour. For a bit of variety, add quartered button mushrooms, but sauté them first or their moisture will thin the sauce. Creamy comfort food for the chill days when spring is coming but has not quite arrived.
Ingredients
Directions
Place the chicken between layers of plastic wrap and bash it with a rolling pin or heavy object until it’s an even thickness, then toss it in a bowl or plastic bag, and pour over enough olive oil to coat. Squeeze in the juice from 1 lemon and add the sliced garlic. Season generously with salt and pepper and leave for 30 minutes or as long as you can. If you have 10 minutes, that’s fine. Overnight in the fridge is fine too. It’s up to you.
When you are ready to cook, heat a few tablespoons of olive oil in a large skillet. Add the sliced leeks and cook until just starting to brown then remove them from the pan and set aside. Take the chicken from the marinade, brush off any lemon seeds or bits of garlic and add it to the pan. Brown it on both sides, then remove it to a plate to keep warm.
Add another splash of oil to the skillet, then add the onion. Cook until they begin to sweat, then add the crushed garlic and cook for another minute or so. Add the wine to deglaze the pan, scraping up any of the tasty browned bits on the bottom with a wooden spatula. Place the chicken in the pan again, turn the heat to low and cook for 15-20 minutes or until chicken is cooked through.
Before serving, stir in the Dijon mustard and the cream. (It might help to add a few tablespoons of the hot liquid into the cream first before pouring it into the pan so it doesn’t separate.) Add the leeks back to the pan and cook until all is warmed through.
For a thicker sauce, add a tablespoon of cornflour. For a bit of variety, add quartered button mushrooms, but sauté them first or their moisture will thin the sauce. Creamy comfort food for the chill days when spring is coming but has not quite arrived.
AuthorCJ TothDifficultyBeginnerThis wonderful cheesy dish makes a great light supper on its own or works well as a side with roast chicken. If Caerphilly cheese isn’t available, try a mild cheddar instead.
Preheat oven to 180°C
Wash leeks well and slice into 1 inch pieces. Melt 2T of the butter over medium heat. When it begins to foam, add the leeks and sauté for about 2 minutes or until slightly tinged with brown.
Add stock, then slowly add the cream. Bring to a boil, then cover, turn the heat to very low and simmer for 15 minutes or until leeks are softened.
Remove the leeks using a slotted spoon and transfer them to an ovenproof gratin or casserole dish. Sprinkle cheese into the cream mixture and cook over low heat for 1 minute, stirring constantly until cheese has melted into sauce. Pour this over the over leeks.
Heat the remaining 1T of butter in a small pan, preferably non-stick, over medium-low heat. Add breadcrumbs and garlic and sauté for 2 minutes or until golden. Season with salt and pepper, then stir in parsley. Sprinkle over top of leeks and bake for 15 minutes or until sauce is bubbling and top is golden. Serve with a side salad coated in a nice mustardy dressing.
Ingredients
Directions
Preheat oven to 180°C
Wash leeks well and slice into 1 inch pieces. Melt 2T of the butter over medium heat. When it begins to foam, add the leeks and sauté for about 2 minutes or until slightly tinged with brown.
Add stock, then slowly add the cream. Bring to a boil, then cover, turn the heat to very low and simmer for 15 minutes or until leeks are softened.
Remove the leeks using a slotted spoon and transfer them to an ovenproof gratin or casserole dish. Sprinkle cheese into the cream mixture and cook over low heat for 1 minute, stirring constantly until cheese has melted into sauce. Pour this over the over leeks.
Heat the remaining 1T of butter in a small pan, preferably non-stick, over medium-low heat. Add breadcrumbs and garlic and sauté for 2 minutes or until golden. Season with salt and pepper, then stir in parsley. Sprinkle over top of leeks and bake for 15 minutes or until sauce is bubbling and top is golden. Serve with a side salad coated in a nice mustardy dressing.