Devon Cream Teas

There is considerable animosity about food. Specifically, food that is considered to be derived from a specific area of any country.

A prime example of this is the tiddy-oggy – also known as the Cornish Pasty.

Of course, those of us from Devon, a noble county, regard Cornwall as Devon’s biggest car park and thus the Cornish have no real opinions on anything.

However, the sons of Kerno do have opinions even if they are, from time to time, invalid.

Referring to the Cornish pasty, it is generally acknowledged that it came about as a simple meal for miners who slaved endlessly in the Cornish tin mines.

We understand as a truism that the Cornish taught the Welsh how to dig holes in the ground and gather whatever minerals they might find shiny and attractive. For the Welsh that would be coal, known to be solidified Dragon’s blood – hence it burns.

In the olden days the main source of protein for the Cornish was fish. Specifically pilchards. The primary vegetable would be potatoes but after the time of Sir Walter Raleigh, of course. 

Consequently, the main ingredient of a Cornish pasty would be traditionally pilchards and potato and yet great pride is now attached to getting the gravy for the meat and vegetable mixture correct.

The pasty itself is shaped so that the miners could hold the edges and eat the rest without having to wash their hands. The remnants of the ‘held’ parts would be discarded for the mine rats. 

Another bone of contention is the famous cream tea. Cream teas are an intrinsic part of the West Country. No visit to the Western counties would be complete without the famous scones with clotted cream and jam.

The problem here is that, in the first place, the cream has to be made from the milk of Jersey cows. Jerseys produce milk that is high in fat content. The cows must also be fed from grass pastures; artificial foodstocks are not permitted, as are foodstocks from turnips, cabbages, kale and other non-grass vegetation that will alter the flavour of the cream.

The second problem is that there is a particularly visceral response regarding the order in which the topping is placed on the scone.

Devon Cream Tea 

(but with whipped cream because clotted cream is hard to come by in Kuala Lumpur!)

In Cornwall the order is to put the jam on first and then put the cream on top of that. In Devon (except for Devonians who live on or near the Cornish Border who have been brainwashed) the cream goes on first.

This has become known as ‘Thunder and Lightning’. The cream goes first because you see the lightning first and then you hear the thunder (the jam) second.

There are those who believe that the use of syrup, a modern addition, is the only way that this dish can be referred to as ‘Thunder and Lightning’. This is an error that such persons' parents must be held liable for inflicting on them. Never, in all of my considerable time on this Earth, have I ever been offered – much less taken, ‘Tate & Lyle’s Golden Syrup’ on a cream tea. I must put this down as some aberration introduced in the same way as the term ‘Grockles’ (tourists) has been inserted into the West Country dictionary – by some form of marketing agency!

A cream tea is properly known as a ‘Devonshire Cream Tea’. It is, therefore, only right that a real Devonian should have the right to determine the correct manner of eating scones with cream and jam.

So there!