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Created by Chef Thomas
The Welsh morning plate, laverbread fried dark and crisp in bacon fat, cockles warmed in butter, leek sausages, and eggs with trembling yolks. Sea and land, one pan, no apology.
The first time I had laverbread it was spooned out of a small tub by a woman at a market stall somewhere on the Gower, and it tasted of everything I thought seaweed shouldn't: mineral, savoury, almost meaty, with a dark, iron tang that lingered. I spread it on toast like a fool and missed the point entirely. Laverbread wants bacon fat. It wants oatmeal to give it backbone, and a hot pan to give it a crust. Once you know that, it makes sense.
The Full Welsh is a breakfast that tastes of its geography. Cockles from the mudflats, gathered at low tide in buckets. Laverbread made from seaweed pulled off the rocks. Leek sausages because this is Wales and leeks go into everything, rightly so. It's not a variation on the Full English. It's its own plate, shaped by a coastline and a tradition that values what the land and the sea give up without complaint.
I cook this on cold mornings when the house needs warming from the inside out. One pan does most of the work. The sausages go in first, then the bacon, then the laverbread cakes in the fat left behind. The cockles get a minute in butter. The eggs go last, fried in the memory of everything that came before them. There are few better feelings than putting this plate in front of someone on a Saturday morning when the rain is hammering the kitchen window and the kettle has just boiled for the second time.
A recipe is a conversation, not a contract. If you can't find cockles, it's still a good breakfast without them. If laverbread is beyond reach, this isn't the morning for a Full Welsh, and there's no shame in that. Wait until you can get the real thing. The dish won't work with substitutes any more than a morning by the sea works without the salt in the air.
Quantity
4 rashers
Quantity
4
Quantity
200g
Quantity
2 tablespoons
Quantity
150g
shelled
Quantity
2 large
Quantity
2 thick slices
Quantity
knob
Quantity
1
halved
Quantity
to taste
Quantity
to taste
| Ingredient | Quantity |
|---|---|
| back bacon | 4 rashers |
| pork and leek sausages | 4 |
| prepared laverbread | 200g |
| medium oatmeal | 2 tablespoons |
| fresh cocklesshelled | 150g |
| free-range eggs | 2 large |
| good white bread or farmhouse sourdough | 2 thick slices |
| unsalted butter | knob |
| ripe tomatohalved | 1 |
| fine sea salt | to taste |
| black pepper | to taste |
Put the sausages in a large, heavy frying pan over a medium heat with a slick of oil. Let them cook slowly, turning every few minutes, until the skins are tight and golden all over and the insides are cooked through. This takes fifteen minutes or so. Don't rush them. A sausage cooked too fast will split and lose its juices. You want them to tan, not to burst. Move them to a warm plate and cover loosely while you get on with the rest.
In the same pan, with the sausage fat still in it, lay the bacon rashers flat. Cook until the fat turns translucent and the edges go crisp and golden, then flip and give the other side a minute. The bacon should be cooked but not rigid. While the bacon fries, press the tomato halves cut-side down into the pan beside it, letting them soften and colour in the fat. Move everything to the warm plate.
There should be a good slick of bacon fat left in the pan. This is what you want. Mix the laverbread with the oatmeal in a small bowl until it holds together, then shape it into two rough cakes, about the size of your palm. Lay them in the bacon fat over a medium heat and fry for three to four minutes each side until they form a dark, crisp crust. The smell will be mineral and savoury, like the coast. Handle them gently. They're fragile until the crust sets.
Push the laverbread cakes to the cooler side of the pan. Add a small knob of butter to the hot side and let it foam. Tip in the cockles and toss them in the butter for a minute, no more. They're already cooked. You're warming them through and letting the butter round out their briny sweetness. A grind of black pepper. That's all they need. Spoon them onto the plate beside the laverbread.
Wipe the pan if it looks crowded with bits, but keep the fat. Add another small knob of butter and let it melt. Crack the eggs into the pan. The white should sizzle the moment it hits. Cook them gently, spooning the hot fat over the yolks if you like them basted, until the whites are set and the yolks are still soft and trembling. Season with a pinch of salt.
Toast the bread properly. Not pale. Not burnt. Golden and crisp enough to hold up to a runny yolk. Butter it while it's hot. Arrange everything on warmed plates: sausages, bacon, the laverbread cakes, cockles spooned alongside, the tomato halves, the egg on top of the toast or beside it, however you like. There's no correct arrangement. It just needs to look generous and smell like a morning worth getting up for.
1 serving (about 480g)
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