The Welsh Rarebit Tuna Melt

Where British pub food meets American diner food

If you’re a fan of British food or the film Phantom Thread — or perhaps you’re just a hungry boy — then you’ve heard of Welsh rarebit. If not, you’d be forgiven for wondering what the heck a rarebit is, let alone one from Wales. (Answer: a curious mispelling of rabbit, the meaning of which is similarly inscrutable; the dish contains no rabbit.)

Welsh rarebit is essentially melted cheese on toast. However, like many simple-seeming wonders, it is also much more than that. The cheese is a thick béchamel of English cheddar and Guinness, which are mixed into a light roux and spiced with ground mustard, cayenne, and Worcestershire sauce. The bread should be top-notch (sourdough, I’d say) and lightly toasted before the cheese-topped slice goes under the broiler. The finished product is carefully scored with the back of a knife and seasoned with a few dabs of Worcestershire; the bottle shouldn’t stray far from your plate.

This is an Anglo pub classic, one that is expertly suited for blustery days and a complementary pint of stout. After enjoying a rendition at The Commerce Inn — Rita Sodi and Jody Williams’ West Village neo-tavern that asks, what if the Shakers had Pinterest? — I couldn’t help but think about how badly I wanted it to be a tuna melt.

It’s not much of a stretch; what is a diner if not the 20th century’s sawdust-strewn tavern? I’m happy to report that the dish succeeds beyond conceptual cleverness. The beer cheese browns gloriously over the tuna salad, yielding deep-hued crusty edges and a molten center (features that too many tuna melts lack, if you ask me). It may be the best way to make a rarebit a meal, and Guinness-spiked Cheddar may be tuna’s best partner. If anybody wants to open a Welsh diner, my DMs are open.

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Welsh Rarebit Tuna Melt