Wednesday, 9 July 2008
Back to the Pasty
On the Tube this morning, a young woman sat down next to me and, for the entirety of my journey, munched her way through an extremely pungent Cornish pasty, washed down with Coke. A dispiriting start to the day for me, a ferociously indigestible breakfast for her. A long while back (on the Thought Experiments blog), I deplored the mystifying proliferation of Cornish pasty outlets, then the latest fast-food rash to spread across London. As nobody seemed to be buying the things (and no wonder - they're vile), I assumed this rash would soon fade away, like Victoria station's legendary, deservedly short-lived Danish Sausage Experience (a misrepresentation on three counts). But no - the Cornish pasty outlets are still everywhere, though apparently doing no better business. Maybe this 'recession' of which we hear so much will finish them off - or maybe it's exactly what the pastymeisters have been waiting for. The pasty - vile but undeniably filling - might just be the perfect food for hard times. But not breakfast.
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Happened to me on the train the other day, Nige. A guy sat next to me and made his way through a stinking greasy hamburger and a bag of chips complete with dipping sauce which he balanced on his knee. He didn't seem to mind that he stank out the carriage (which, like lots of modern trains, didn't have windows we could open).
ReplyDeleteAgain, I repeat, on some days I feel like global warming can't come quickly enough.
Have to disagree on this one Nige - as you know, my body is usually a temple, but you can't beat one of those wrong pasties for breakfast if you have a hangover. I'd never be so rude as to eat one on the Tube though, that's just smelly and vile.
ReplyDeleteA well made Cornish pasty is a joy. In Roche last year I bought one the size of a large cat and it was delicious.
ReplyDeleteNot particularly bad for you either if they're properly made.
I've never had a 'pasty' in London but i'd imagine they are to the Cornish what the slimy doner kebab is to the Greeks.
you're right there Joe - these things are not in any true sense Cornish pasties. As for you, Celebritish - this must be the iron digestion of youth talking. And Richard - I join you in saying, Bring it on (tho the heat will only make the smell worse - there's always a catch)...
ReplyDeleteWell, I've just come back from King's Cross accompanied by all sorts of foul-smelling people and their portable refreshments. Thinking I was over the worst of it when I got to my station, I got into the trusty pick-up for the journey home. Although normally noisy, this evening it sounded like a Sherman tank and I assumed the exhaust had a hole in it. I took it to a nice chap at the local garage who looked underneath. He told me my exhaust was fine but somebody had stolen the catalytic converter. I didn't know it was possible to do this. Sigh.
ReplyDeleteWas on the steam train from (can't pronounce the name, nobody can) near the Ukrainian border to Warsaw, the woman opposite us whipped out a primus and cooked a meal for her and the three kids, she gave us a taste, delicious. wasn't pastie though.
ReplyDeleteHere Nige, you're the literal one, correct spelling of pastie, or y?
As a commuter going silently mad with the cancaphony and smell of food, drink, MP3 players with leaky earthingys, free and abandoned papers, etc, I think that nothing is worse than having to sit opposite a woman painstakingly applying make-up, from one of those bags from which endless sticks, pots, etc emerge and are applied, one after the other. Sometimes it goes on for 40 minutes non-stop (which is my stop for the next horrific leg) and the person is still avidly applying. Shudder.
ReplyDeleteJust on a two hour train ride today, from Washington, D.C., to Philly, and many a person visited the Cafe Car then returned with their grub. Moi, I did have food too -- a cheese panini I'd bought in Union Station. Everyone was rather polite about what they ate and bagging it all up after. This, however, was Amtrak, where a ticket costs a sizeable sum. On the regional rail lines around Philly, people bring in catfish just caught in the Delaware, gut and grill them on the seat beside you and rare is the conductor who's willing to complain to one of these very tough customers. (Well, it's not quite that bad, but I've seen --and smelled -- people eating some pretty disgusting meals on those local rails. Also seen a number of drunks and drugged-out commuters and I did see one get thrown off the train the other day: First time I ever saw fellow commuters willing to stop their cell phone conversations and pay attention, probably b/c most of us were waiting for this guy to pull out a weapon and kill the conductor...or us!)
ReplyDeletePlease do tell what is in a pastie. I'm guessing it's some kind of meat pie, like a samosa maybe, but English rather than Indian.
Also, I often wonder about food from the past when I'm reading 19th century novels. Dickens' orphans were always jonesing for pudding and I could not figure out why they wanted "a slice of pudding" when they were starved for carbs/fat, and then I realized it was some kind of meat, not sweet dish, those kids were eating.
Do explain. I love hearing about Olde English food!
A pasty (correct I think Malty) Susan is indeed a meat pie, with a thick crust, correctly filled with mutton, potato, onion and root vegetables. Heaven knows what's in the London version though. As for puddings, we still have one or two savoury ones, notably steak and kidney. There used to be a finer line between sweet and savoury - mincemeat (as in mince pies) used to contain actual meat (as in flesh, tho meat was also a generic term for any kind of edible matter)...
ReplyDeleteSophie I thought you were going to say you had a Cornish pasty in the exhaust pipe...
Olde English food Susan, depends how far back, say the 1960s then chicken Vindaloos, Madras curry, prawn Biriyani. Any further back, you don't want to know (pre Elisabeth David).
ReplyDeleteThe original Cornish pasty was cooked to feed the tin miners, main course and pudding in one handy package, centuries before Birds Eye. I assume trying to include soup as a starter was a bit of a no-no.