#13 Bake my grandmother's Cornish Pasties

I took advantage of the gloomy bank holiday weather and stayed in baking today. I decided to cross another item off my list, this time one of those "one of these days I am going to..." tasks.

My gran was a grumpy and slightly scary lady. My mum and I lived with her on and off for most of my childhood and she always did all of the cooking. To this day I don't think I have ever met a better home cook than Gran. She never used a recipe, rarely weighed anything and cooked by sight, taste, smell and instinct. She didn't have a day of professional training but had worked in service for various households from the age of 13 until well into her fifties; cleaning mostly or "scrubbing floors" as she put it. I'm sure she picked up a few techniques in the kitchens of these grand houses and some from her own mother too, who had brought up five children as a war widow without two pennies to rub together.

Almost every happy memory I have of  Gran takes place in her kitchen. I would return home from school almost every day to the smell of something delicious. Her Cornish Pasties were a favourite of mine, not least because she always made plenty and I would find one in my lunchbox for the next two days.

As I chopped up the skirt of beef, onion, potato and swede today I could picture her with a similar knife in her hand, wearing a flour dusted blue nylon overall, listening to the local radio station while she worked at the red formica table. It must be thirty years since I last watched her do that but the memory was as strong as if it happened just weeks ago.

She would not have been much impressed with my efforts. She would have, quite rightly, said that the pastry was too thick and there was too much filling. For a first attempt though they were very tasty, and there are extras for my lunchbox too.