An ode to the Welsh cake

With the autumn rugby internationals starting this weekend, I’m feeling all patriotic and Welshy. My days of watching our boys in the pub are long gone – so what could be a better accompaniment to the game than a Welsh cake or six? I wrote this little verse a while ago in celebration of this scrumptious national delicacy, and now seems like a good time to share it. Any other Welsh cake fans out there?!

An ode to the Welsh cake
– A poem by Cathryn Scott

Are you a cake
Or a little drop scone?
It doesn’t matter,
You’ll soon be gone
Into my tummy
You tasty wee thing.
Oh, you’ll never know
What pleasure you bring!

I like you best
Hot from the griddle.
Mustn’t roll you too thick –
You’ll be raw in the middle.
Raisins and cinnamon
Mixed in with that dough.
Sugar sprinkled on top,
How I love you so!

Memories of mum
My brothers and me cooking.
Scoffing the dough
When no one was looking.
And now I’m all married,
With kids one, two, three
They do the same
While I pretend not to see.

You never last long though,
I can’t have just one.
Overindulging is
Part of the fun.
On the day of our saint
You are easily found.
But I’m no fair-weather fan;
I eat you all year round.

I bake them for loved ones
Who now live away,
A little taste of home
When they come to stay.
Delicious with breakfast
Or a hot cup of tea,
Oh! Humble Welsh cake!
How I love thee.