I finally made it to Y Caban after a bit of a faff on the drive up from Conwy. Picture this: I'm belting along the A5, windows down, singing along to some dodgy 90s playlist, when I realise I've left my fancy chopping board at home. Not just any board – the one with the non-slip grip that makes me feel like a proper chef. So there I am, pulling into a tiny Tesco Express in Llanrwst, five minutes off the route, grabbing the cheapest plastic one they had. £2.99! Absolute bargain, but it wobbled like a drunk on ice the second I tried it later. Classic me, turning a three-day Snowdonia jaunt into a comedy of errors before I've even unpacked.

Y Caban sits tucked away in the Conwy Valley, just a stone's throw from Trefriw, that proper Welsh hideaway with its woollen mill and bubbling springs. It's a cosy little cabin, all stone walls and wooden beams, with a kitchen that's begging for some home-cooked mischief. First impressions? Heaven. I arrived mid-afternoon, dumped my bags, and cracked open the fridge – stocked with local milk from a farm down the lane and a wedge of crumbly Caerphilly cheese I'd nicked from the village shop on the way. No faffing about with grand plans; this trip was all about eating my way through Snowdonia's grub scene, pub by pub, market by market.

That first evening, I fancied something simple, so I pottered into Trefriw's high street – a five-minute wander from the cabin. The Old Ship is the spot, a proper local boozer with low ceilings and a fire crackling away. I plonked myself at the bar and ordered the lamb cawl, thick as mud and twice as hearty, with chunks of tender Welsh lamb swimming in veg stock. Paired it with a pint of Conwy Welsh Pride – crisp, malty, and gone far too quick. The barman, Dai, chuckled when I confessed my chopping board debacle; he reckoned half his regulars turn up without half their kit. We got chatting about the Trefriw Woollen Mill's café across the road – apparently their bara brith is legendary, soaked in tea and sticky with orange zest. I filed that away for tomorrow.

Next morning, I was up with the larks (or robins, whatever chirps in these parts), cycling the short path to Gwydir Uchaf woods for a breather before hitting the market. Trefriw's got this brilliant little produce stall setup on Saturdays, but even midweek, the village shop's shelves groan under local loot: jars of marmalade from Blaenau Ffestiniog bees, smoked mackerel from the Conwy estuary, and tatties so fresh they still had soil on. I loaded up on leeks the size of my forearm, a slab of smoked salmon, and some cockles in brine – proper seaside treat without straying far. Back at Y Caban, my cooking attempt was a riot. That wobbly board slid everywhere as I hacked at the leeks for a Welsh rarebit. Ended up with more cheese on the hob than the toast, but blimey, it tasted grand – tangy cheddar melted into beer-soaked breadcrumbs, with a fried egg on top for good measure. Sat by the cabin window, watching mist roll off the hills, I scoffed the lot. Self-reflection moment: why don't I cook like this at home? Life's too rushed; here, food slows everything down to a proper rhythm.

Lunch called for The Fairy Falls Inn, a hop away in Trefriw. Their fish and chips were spot-on – haddock in crispy batter, chips fat and fluffy, mushy peas on the side. I washed it down with a Brains Rev James, golden and bitter. Chatted with a couple from Llandudno about the best spots for faggots (the pudding kind, mind), and they swore by the butchers in Llanrwst for the real deal. Afternoon tea? Back to the woollen mill café for that bara brith – dense, fruity, and served with clotted cream. Nearly burst.

Evening two, I tried posh-ing up supper at the cabin: cockles with bacon, leeks, and toast. Board held steady this time (pro tip: sticky side down), and it was lush – briny pops of sea against smoky crunch. Popped back to The Old Ship for sticky toffee pudding and a nightcap. First impressions of Y Caban? It's not just a stay; it's a launchpad for Snowdonia's feast. Three days of this, and I'm already plotting a return – board and all.