A taste of childhood
The Age
Tuesday September 29, 2009
Memories come alive with the tastes and sights of Cornwall, writes Lucy Malouf. TO MANY Australians, North Cornwall means Portwenn, the fictitious home of television's Doc Martin. And if you're a foodie, you will also be familiar with Padstow €” or "Padstein" as it's known these days, thanks to celebrity chef Rick Stein, who seems to own half the town.But to me, the northern coast of Cornwall is a place of golden childhood memories; of summer days spent building sandcastles on the wide stretch of sandy beach at Rock or paddling in the rockpools at Daymer Bay.It's clambering over the ruins at Tintagel Castle and the Bedruthan Steps, where the cliffs seem to drop to the edge of the world. It's catching the ferry to Padstow and a mid-morning treat of clotted cream ice-cream. It's watching the crab pots being unloaded on to the Platt in Port Isaac and bracing walks along the rugged coastline to the twin-headed promontory known as the Rumps, before heading home to a warming lunch €” of Cornish pasties, of course.I was reminded of these pleasures during a recent holiday to celebrate a special family birthday. It was late spring and this starkly beautiful corner of England was at its very best, with the windswept hills softened by a wildflower carpet of buttercups and bluebells, campion, clover and corncockle. The scent of elderflower wafted in through our kitchen window, and butterflies and big, bumbling bees filled the air.This is a world where the clock seems to have stood still for decades. While there, we rediscovered many local food specialties I remember from my childhood. As well as the ubiquitous pasties, we enjoyed tea-time treats of Cornish splits (feather-light yeast buns filled with jam and lashings of clotted cream). We sampled creamy yarg cheese, with its fresh tang and distinctive nettle coating, and we crunched our way through endless packets of gingery Cornish fairings.Best of all, we treated ourselves to a mound of fresh crab meat and ate our fill of home-made crab sandwiches, washed down with a drop of Camel Valley white wine from nearby Bodmin.And then it was on with the hiking boots to walk off the calories.Another special local treat is the fruit-studded, pungent yellow saffron cake, which lasted just long enough for toasting at breakfast the following morning.In Cornwall, most local bakers sell loaves of sunshine-yellow saffron cake or wide, flat saffron buns, although some cheaty versions supplement expensive saffron with the shameful addition of yellow food colouring. In the best cakes, bright-red strands of saffron filament are clearly visible.This recipe came to us from an old family friend, Gladys Thomas, who was always known as "Aunt", even though she wasn't a relative.Aunt was Cornish through and through and when she and my granny got together over a cup of tea and a slice of her famous saffron cake, the kitchen would vibrate with their West Country burr.Traditional saffron cake is more of a rich, spiced bread than a cake. Aunt's recipe used lard, for which I have substituted butter, which is marginally better for one's arteries.Gladys Thomas' saffron cakeINGREDIENTSA generous teaspoon saffron strands300ml hot milk500g unbleached white bread flour1 tsp salt150g unsalted butter, diced50g soft brown sugar1 x 7g sachet dried yeast60g currants40g mixed dried fruit1 tbsp plain flour for dustingMETHOD–Stir the saffron strands into the hot milk and leave to infuse overnight.–Combine the flour and salt in a mixing bowl. Rub in the butter with your fingertips to form fine crumbs. Stir in the sugar evenly. Make a well in the middle of the dry ingredients.–Reheat the milk to body temperature. Combine a few table- spoons of the milk with the yeast and mix to a slurry. Stir in the remaining warm milk then tip all the liquid into the dry ingredients.–Use your hands to work the mixture to a dough, then tip out on to a work surface and knead for 10 minutes until smooth and elastic.–Toss the dried fruit with the flour, which helps prevent it from sinking to the bottom of the cake during baking. Add the fruit to the dough in two stages, kneading the mix well after each addition.–Grease a loaf tin with butter. Add the dough to the tin and leave in a warm place until the dough rises. Depending on ambient temperature, this will take one to two hours.–Heat the oven to 180C. Bake for 50 to 60 minutes, until the top is golden brown. The base of the loaf should sound hollow when tapped. Remove from the tin and cool on a wire rack. Allow the cake to rest for an hour before slicing and serving with butter or clotted cream and home- made jam. I think it's even better toasted the next day.Makes 1 loaf
© 2009 The Age
