At England’s very South Western tip is an enchanting little sea town called Falmouth, which forms part of the larger state, Cornwall. With rolling valleys and cobbled streets, the sun struggles to go to sleep. I entered this little town in battleship against the wind on an old boat. Undefeated, our safe arrival has rekindled my childhood fantasies, inspired by the likes of BBC’s Classics Mini-Series. I mean, this is romance territory where novelists thrive on!
Not only am I discovering England (and all its fine delicacies), but also the terrain of Cornwall, which is proud to be a little entity of its own.It’s a picturesque setting of grass fed cows and proud locals who sell their own Cornish produce from apples to spices, pasties to clotted creams, biscuits to beers.
What I love about this town is that there is a story to be found about their heritage, land, produce, people. A proud story which the locals will tell you with much enthusiasm and satisfaction. Here’s one such story, which I love hearing each time.
Peasant Food Turned Delicasy’s
Cornish Pasty
The Cornish Pastie crust tell the tale of history dating back 150 years to life of the miners. This traditional oven cooked pasty, of leftover scraps, keep its filling warm for up to an hour (like an edible hot water bottle), so the miners could keep it in their jackets till ‘crib’ (feeding) time. But the famous pasty crust was never eaten by the miners because it served as a hand grip which the poisonous chemicals of their hands touch.
Isn’t that fancy, a pie with a handle!
Pasty Stores around Town
