Cornish Pasty – A Meal For The Miners
by A.M.Westerling
"A.M Westerling's "The Countess' Lucky Charm" is a keeper. Combine "Pygmalian" (with a happily-ever-ending), throw in a smidgeon of "Oliver Twist," add a healthy dose of love and passion, a trek through the Canadian wilderness and a host of finely drawn secondary characters, and you'll find a terrific read." Kathy Fischer-Brown
***
Okay, enough shameless self promotion. *silly grin* Today I’m sharing a classic British recipe that originated in Cornwall,
the setting for my current project, a Regency romance titled Sophie. It’s Book
1 of The Ladies of Harrington House series. My hero Lord Bryce Langdon eats a
pasty one day while having lunch in an inn in Truro.
It’s thought the pasty originated as a convenient meal for Cornish
miners who were unable to return to the surface at lunch time. Their hands
would be dirty but the pasty could be held easily by the crust and provided a
hearty meal.
***
Picture and recipe found here:
https://www.bbc.co.uk/food/recipes/classic_cornish_pasty_67037
Ingredients
For the pastry
·
500g/1lb 1oz strong bread flour
·
120g/4oz vegetable shortening or suet
·
1 tsp salt
·
25g/1oz margarine or butter
·
175ml/6fl oz cold water
·
1 free-range egg, beaten with a little salt (for glazing)
For the filling
·
350g/12oz good-quality beef skirt, rump steak or braising steak
·
350g/12oz waxy potatoes
·
200g/7oz swede/turnip
·
175g/6oz onions
·
salt and freshly ground black pepper
·
knob of butter or margarine
Method
1. Tip the flour into
the bowl and add the shortening, a pinch of salt, the margarine or butter and
all of the water.
2. Use a spoon to
gently combine the ingredients. Then use your hands to crush everything
together, bringing the ingredients together as a fairly dry dough.
3. Turn out the dough
onto a clean work surface (there’s no need to put flour or oil onto the surface
because it’s a tight rather than sticky dough).
4. Knead the dough to
combine the ingredients properly. Use the heel of your hand to stretch the
dough. Roll it back up into a ball, then turn it, stretch and roll it up again.
Repeat this process for about 5-6 minutes. The dough will start to become
smooth as the shortening breaks down. If the dough feels grainy, keep working
it until it’s smooth and glossy. Don’t be afraid to be rough – you’ll need to
use lots of pressure and work the dough vigorously to get the best results.
5. When the dough is
smooth, wrap it in cling film and put it in the fridge to rest for 30–60 minutes.
6. While the dough is
resting, peel and cut the potato, swede and onion into cubes about 1cm/½in
square. Cut the beef into similar sized chunks. Put all four ingredients into a
bowl and mix. Season well with salt and some freshly ground black pepper, then
put the filling to one side until the dough is ready.
7. Lightly grease a
baking tray with margarine (or butter) and line with baking or silicone paper
(not greaseproof).
8. Preheat the oven to
170C (150C fan assisted)/325F/Gas 3.
9. Once the dough has
had time to relax, take it out of the fridge. The margarine or butter will have
chilled, giving you a tight dough. Divide the dough into four equal-sized
pieces. Shape each piece into a ball and use a rolling pin to roll each ball
into a disc roughly 25cm/10in wide (roughly the same size as a dinner plate).
10. Spoon a quarter of
the filling onto each disc. Spread the filling on one half of the disc, leaving
the other half clear. Put a knob of butter or margarine on top of the filling.
11. Carefully fold the
pastry over, join the edges and push with your fingers to seal. Crimp the edge
to make sure the filling is held inside – either by using a fork, or by making
small twists along the sealed edge. Traditionally Cornish pasties have around
20 crimps. When you’ve crimped along the edge, fold the end corners underneath.
12.
Put the pasties onto the baking tray and brush the top of each pasty
with the egg and salt mixture. Bake on the middle shelf of the oven for about
45 minutes or until the pasties are golden-brown. If your pasties aren't
browning, increase the oven temperature by 10C/25F for the last 10 minutes of
cooking time.
***
Now that you’ve
made your pasties, munch on one while you’re reading the next scene from Sophie.
The previous excerpts can be found in order in my posts from August 25,
September 25, October 25 and November 25. Enjoy!
The
nerve of Leah, fumed Sophie, sitting beside Lord Langdon despite the
impropriety of it all. Mama would doubtless have a few choice words later - she
didn’t believe in airing the family dirty laundry in public and for that Leah
should be grateful.
Lady Harrington clapped her hands. “Sophie,
Catherine, you may begin.”
Conscious of Bryce’s eyes on her every move,
Sophie glided over to stand beside the pianoforte. She cleared her throat and
picked up the sheaf of lyrics, fidgeting with it while she waited for Catherine
to seat herself. Catherine ran her fingers up and down the keys a few times
then nodded to Sophie before playing a few bars.
Sophie began to sing:
“Alas my love you do me wrong, To cast me off
discourteously, For I have loved you well and long, Delighting in your company.”
She finally dared to look at Bryce in time to
see Leah drop her fan at his feet. Sophie almost choked at her sister’s blatant
ploy but he appeared not to notice Leah’s fan on the floor beside him. Sophie
started the chorus:
“Greensleeves was all my joy, Greensleeves was
my delight, Greensleeves was my heart of gold, And who but my Lady
Greensleeves?”
She risked another glance at Bryce. He’d
picked up the fan and held it in his hand. Obviously uncomfortable, he offered
it to Leah, who batted her eye lashes at him. At the sight of the brazen deed,
Sophie’s voice cracked on the opening notes of the next verse, drawing a shake
of the head from Mama. She composed herself and managed to finish the verse.
Again she looked over to her sister and their
guest of honour and repeated the chorus. During this Leah held a handkerchief
to her eyes and dabbed at them, as if moved by the music. From time to time she
peeped sideways to Bryce and when he appeared not to notice, dropped her
handkerchief on his lap.
The little minx. Annoyed and more than a
little irritated, Sophie mispronounced a word, drawing a horrified look from
Mama. Look at Leah, Sophie wanted to scream, not at me. She managed to draw a
quick breath and began the third verse:
“I have been ready at your hand, To grant
whatever you would crave, I have both wagered life and land, Your love and
goodwill for to have.”
Sophie mused on the last phrase while she
began the chorus. Is that why Leah’s actions irritated her so? That Sophie
wished for Bryce’s love and goodwill? No, she corrected herself. Not love but
certainly goodwill and his favorable regard although why that should be so
important to her didn’t make sense.
She sang the next few bars and looked over in
time to see Leah make google eyes at Bryce. Would the brat never stop her
wanton actions? Sophie missed a high note on a passage in the chorus she’d
mastered many times before. Catherine glanced over and shook her head. Papa
merely smiled, that indulgent twist of his lips that he used only with his
daughters.
Sophie soldiered on. Next when she looked
over, Leah tapped Bryce on the knee with her fan and leaned in close to him.
Sophie almost choked then started on the wrong verse, drawing a hiss from
Catherine. “Sophie, what is the matter with you? Pay attention.”
Lady Blackmore coughed into her elbow; Lord
Blackmore stifled a smile. Surely they must find Sophie’s performance lacking.
Or had they spied Leah’s shenanigans? Sophie could only hope that they realized
the problem lay with Leah, not Sophie. With that, she sucked in a huge breath
and with a nod to Catherine began the proper verse. She ignored Leah and their
new neighbour and sang instead to the vicar and his wife. That worked and why
hadn’t she thought of that earlier, she scolded herself.
Mercifully the song came to an end. She placed
the sheets of paper back on the stand and inclined her head at the smattering
of applause. “I do thank you,” she said, “but it’s Catherine who is the musical
one, not I.”
“We’ll take a small break to refresh ourselves
and then Leah shall read her poetry,” said Lady Harrington. Her mother gave her
a speculative look then turned towards the Blackmores.
Disappointment at her performance of the piece
bubbled through Sophie. She’d wanted to impress Langdon, not make an utter fool
of herself. She needed a beverage to wet her throat and wash away her
frustration with her recital and she sidled to the decanters of wine. Bryce
joined her and she clutched the edge of the table for a moment to steady her
nerves.
“I much
preferred your show this afternoon.” He glanced down to her satin slippers. His
meaning was clear – he referred to the sight of her unshod feet on the beach. A
warm flush crept over her cheeks and she glanced about to see if anyone heard.
Everyone else was engaged in conversation except for Leah, who gave her a
glowering look. Her sister stood and looked as if she meant to come over but
thought better of it and sat down again.
Sophie peeped up at Bryce through her lashes.
If Leah could play the coquette without drawing notice, so could she. “Do you
mean to tell me, sir, that you find my vocal skills lacking?”
Sitting
on the seat was a woman writing on a tablet. Maybe she was writing a
novel, or a description of the garden, or a letter... Silence except for
a light breeze through the trees; a faint scent of eucalypts; the sheer
peace of the landscape shimmering in the heat. Since this grandstand
seat was taken, I continued my exploration of the garden while musing on
how such a setting for me would be a haven for creativity to blossom.
While
not a gardener by inclination, I do like my own small low-maintenance
garden to look attractive with its flowering trees, roses and pot
plants. I find inspiration in the colours, the textures, the shapes, the
delicate rose fragrance, and, too, the tiny honeyeaters feasting on the
nectar in the bottlebrush and grevillea blooms (Australian native
shrubs).
