Pasty Preparation - No Pressure

Today was about one thing and one thing only - Pasty Preparation.  This year when my sister comes over we are having a Boxing Day rather than a Christmas Day and for us the tradition is a walk, some mulled wine and Cornish Pasties.  I try but somehow my pasties are never going to win any prizes.  My gran made amazing pasties and my dad made amazing pasties but somehow the skill has passed me by.  It's the pastry and it's the quality of the swede and it is my skill at construction - or lack of it!

I can get skirt (the meat which our family has traditionally used in a pasty) from Shuks so it was John's job to clean the meat of any sinew and membrane and cut into bite sized pieces but he got bored with that so opted to do the veggies on the mandolin because he doesn't trust me not to slice off my fingers!!!

We made four pasties and put them in Argy's freezer (for which many thanks Argy) and I will cook them on the Sunday when Kaye is here.  I cannot decide whether to cook from frozen, which I have never done before but which seems to be recommended, or thaw and then cook.  

There ye sit in steeping heat 
Unique as all that went before 
Both glazed and crimped and primed to eat 
No splits or cracks surround thy core 

And through thy weather beaten skin 
Mysterious delights begin 

Oh Pasty, pasty fast but slow 
The ancient son of old Kernow 

But oh no lamb nor Cranberry 
Though tasty victuals they may be 
No carrot, corn no petty pea 
They could not enter into thee 

To bruise thy pure simplicity 
Or change thy authenticity 

Oh Pasty, pasty fast but slow 
When piping hot its best to blow 

Such beef that Cornish meadows run 
Cornish onions cut and peeled 
Turnips grown neath Cornish sun 
Potatoes grown in Cornish field 

Before we take a careful bite 
Then witness hunger pains take flight 

Oh Pasty past fast but slow 
In darkness brings the deepest glow 

But if you be not working folk 
With pick or hammer, hand in soil 
So if ye do not wear the yolk 
If ye know not honest toil 

A pasty ever in your hand 
Repeat to eat and girth will thicken 
Yet that girth may understand 
The ancient cry Kernow bis viken 

Pasty, pasty fast but slow 
Takes pride of place in old Kernow