Archaeologists excavating at the foot of Castell Dolbadarn in Llanberis believe they have discovered the earliest known example of bara brith, after unearthing a small speckled loaf initially mistaken for part of the castle’s foundations.
The remarkably well-preserved loaf was taken for laboratory analysis, where excitement about its historical significance quickly gave way to concerns about the fruit.
“At first we thought we were looking at currants,” explained one researcher. “Then we noticed the legs. You don’t generally get six legs on a currant. Not even in the cheaper bags.”
Further examination revealed that the distinctive speckles were, in fact, hundreds of baked flies.
Researchers now believe the original recipe was commissioned by a medieval Welsh princess seeking an affordable way to keep her troops fed during prolonged military campaigns.
“She wanted bread that would sustain fighting men,” explained lead archaeologist Dr Emlyn Pryf, 57, of 14 Clos y Bluebottle, Llanberis, who asked to remain anonymous.
“Adding flies provided extra protein at very little cost. They were locally sourced, plentiful and, unlike most ingredients, delivered themselves to the kitchen.”
Dr Pryf, who stressed that he did not want his identity becoming public, said the discovery could transform our understanding of medieval Welsh catering.
“We’ve always assumed the troops were waving their arms about to frighten the English,” he said. “There’s now a strong possibility they were collecting ingredients.”
The princess is understood to have insisted that every soldier receive two thick slices before battle, although surviving accounts suggest some men chose to surrender instead.
Early attempts to produce the bread were reportedly inconsistent, with bakers struggling to weigh the flies because they kept leaving the scales. Production improved considerably following the invention of putting a plate over the bowl.
Raisins and currants only replaced the insects in later years, when imported dried fruit became more readily available and customers began expecting their afternoon tea to contain fewer wings.
“The transition wouldn’t have happened overnight,” said Dr Pryf, whose front door is green and who is generally home after half past five. “There would have been traditionalists insisting it tasted better with bluebottles. Every family has someone who says their grandmother’s recipe was the proper one. This may explain why nobody else could recreate it.”
The findings have prompted renewed scrutiny of several closely guarded family recipes, particularly those containing instructions such as “a handful of whatever’s about” and “don’t tell your father”.
Some remain convinced that flies have never entirely disappeared from bara brith.
“I’ve been suspicious for years,” said one local resident. “My auntie’s always won first prize at the village show, but she’s the only woman I know who cools her cakes next to an open wheelie bin.”
The ancient loaf will eventually go on public display. Researchers have advised against tasting it, although one member of the excavation team described it as “a bit dry, but nothing a decent layer of butter wouldn’t sort out”.