Jelberts, in my personal opinion, is simply the best ice-cream ever made. They’ve been making it to the same recipe for over 70 years now and there’s absolutely no reason to change. My mum can remember walking down Paul Hill with her Grandmother to do the shopping, and stopping off at Jelberts for a treat. It’s a treat that we look forward to every year, and have indulged in every day of our holiday so far. Tomorrow (our last day) will be no different.
The unassuming shop on New Road is easy to overlook if you don’t know what it contains, but during the height of summer the queue stretches out of the door and down the road to Penzance. This little gem is home to one of the oldest ice-cream makers in Cornwall, and they have only this one shop.
It all started with the eponymous S Jelbert, a local dairy farmer. Ice-cream was a natural extension of his milk delivery rounds, and arrived at your doorstep every day in a pram. When it proved popular he bought a tiny building to serve as his factory, and the shop on New Road from which to sell the ice-cream. Jelberts still use those same buildings today, and the ice-cream is still delivered every day from factory to shop in that same pram.
These days it’s run by the grandson of the original owner, Jimmy Glover. The recipe remains a closely guarded secret, but what we do know is that due to the high-quality ingredients and traditional processes the ice-cream cannot be stored for more than one day before solid ice crystals begin to form and the ice-cream deteriorates. This means that you’ll never find Jelberts in the supermarket aisle – there’s only one place in the whole world that sells it. Newlyn!
The interior is old-fashioned, sparse, and spotlessly clean. Eagle-eyed visitors waiting their turn to be served will spot a long Olympic oar strategically placed along one wall, just above a framed photograph of Helen Glover and Heather Stanning. Helen may be the number 1 female rower in the world, but her dad makes the number 1 ice-cream!
The prices are incredibly reasonable. Buy two ice-creams and you’ll still have change from a fiver. Of course, there’s only one flavour but that hardly seems to matter when that flavour is so intensely rich. You can choose to purchase your ice-cream in a tub or on a cone. Flakes are available but hardly necessary when for an extra 30p you can have a scoop of clotted cream on top… Oooh, heavenly!
I consider myself to be something of a pasty connoisseur. Although I was brought up in Hampshire, my Grandfather’s family remains scattered around the Cornish peninsula, and some of my favourite childhood memories are of noshing down on one of the traditional pasties which were then only available in Cornwall. Although you could buy a “Cornish” pasty in Hampshire, they were pale and unappealing in comparison to the proper job.
Friends and family travelling to Cornwall were always under strict instructions to “bring back pasties!”. I can remember excitedly waiting for a friend to return from Cornwall, even to the point of waiting outside his house. Not because my friend was coming back, but because he was bringing me a proper pasty!
(In case you were wondering, the pasty he brought back was possibly the worst I’ve ever tasted. Jon assures me that he bought it in Cornwall but to this day I entertain doubts. It was made of minced gristle and clumps of powdery gravy granules… definitely not a true pasty!)
In recent years the Cornish pasty has spread across the UK, with shops opening everywhere. Although this is a great improvement on the Ginsters slop, the best Cornish pasties can still only be found in Cornwall. (Amusingly, Ginsters was forced to hop the border from Devon to Cornwall back in 2011 when the EU ruled that only pasties made in Cornwall could be called Cornish pasties.)
Interestingly, the EU ruling also states that a genuine Cornish pasty has to have a distinctive “D” shape and be crimped on one side. It added: “The texture of the filling is chunky, made up of uncooked minced or roughly cut chunks of beef (not less than 12.5%), swede, potato, and onion with a light seasoning.”
This is somewhat irritating as the EU has failed to properly translate the recipe. In Cornwall, a swede is known as a turnip and a turnip is known as a swede. Therefore, as my Great-Aunty Yvonne will tell you at great length, a true pasty should be made with turnip, not swede.
So why the diatribe about Cornish pasties? Well, this week I’m visiting Cornwall with my mother. It’s a chance to catch up with the relatives, see some of our favourite sights, and gorge ourselves on Cornish pasties and clotted cream ice-creams.
We’re staying at a site that billed itself as St Ives, but is actually Hayle. We’re not that bothered by this – Hayle is actually more convenient for most of what we want to do and is picturesque in its own right. As we drove through yesterday, we noted that Hayle appears to have at least four pasty shops, two Warrens Bakeries and two Philps. In addition, the local butcher also sells pasties and pies.
Now Warrens I’m familiar with… we have two in Exeter and my family has another tie to the world’s oldest pasty producer – they opened their first shop in my Great-Grandmother’s village, St Just. Philps on the other hand… Well, mum tells me that they’re my second cousin’s husband’s favourite pasty shop. Aunty Yvonne doesn’t think they’re too bad either!
With that kind of recommendation, how could I resist?
We chose the largest of the two Philps in Hayle, mainly because it has a spacious car park. Although we arrived just before midday, the car park was busy with cars constantly coming and going – a testament to the quality of the pasties, especially since we’re now outside the main tourist season.
It was possible to peep through an open door into the spotless kitchen behind the scenes, but dallying was costing us our place in the rapidly forming queue. Mum found a pasty keyring that she liked in their small gift section, while I loved the clip-lock lighthouse cookie jars. But we were falling further and further back in that queue!
The queue stretched passed the cake counter with a generous selection of delicacies and I was sorely tempted by a large Jaffa cake. I eventually opted to buy it and save it for later, knowing full well that I was about to stuff myself with a large traditional.
We had the choice of four different kind of pasties. Traditional, minced meat, cheese and vegetables, and vegetables and butter; all available in standard or large. I also noted that they had a selection of standard traditionals available with extra salt and pepper. Perfect for mum, who likes her pasties far more peppery than I can stand.
I’d skipped breakfast so I chose a large traditional, which almost managed to defeat me. Stuffed full of potato, onion, swede and with a generous helping of large chunks of melt-in-your-mouth steak scattered evenly throughout, it was just as good as I’d hoped. Even better, the crimped crust running down the side was tiny. I normally discard this bit, but this time I found myself eating every scrap. It was so good that I only remembered to take a picture once it was almost all gone!
Pleasantly full, mum and I headed off to Penzance to see Aunty Yvonne. Halfway there, mum suddenly realised that we hadn’t bought any saffron cake for tea tonight and was heartily disappointed. It’s one of her favourite treats. Fortunately, Aunty had remembered how much she likes it and had bought her one to have while we were there.
After our visit, we headed back to our temporary home for tea and cake. Mum had her saffron cake but I still had the Philps Jaffa cake waiting for me…
Exquisitely presented, it reminded me from the very first of the French patisserie lemon tarts. Cracking open the chocolate exterior revealed three different layers… soft cake, tart orange, and silky Italian meringue. The orange layer had the sharp tang of a really good marmalade, and contained shreds of actual orange.
Despite the large size of the cake, I couldn’t resist polishing the whole thing off (I’m on holiday so calories don’t count!). But don’t worry, I resisted the urge to emulate Paul Hollywood and dunk my cake into my cuppa!
So it’s official. I have a new pasty supplier. Now I just need to put in my order of frozen pasties to take home….
A new Victorian-themed cocktail bar opened in Exeter last month; Dr Ink’s Curiosities. I was alerted to this fact fairly quickly by my friend Dru, who prefers to dress in strictly Victorian clothing. As a lover of both history and cocktails, I immediately made plans with him to go there.
It took us a couple of weeks but we finally agreed to meet last night, accompanied by my new housemate. Hannah and I arrived first and strolled up and down the quayside looking for the bar. Then we walked a little further up the road.
Resorting to GoogleMaps sent us in circles. Finally I caved and called Dru, who was running late. He told us it was at the Customs House – which was clearly closed for the night.
But just to the left of the customs house, tucked behind a discreet courtyard garden was a blue door, standing open. We had found Dr Ink’s.
It’s the tiniest jewel of a bar. Beautifully decorated, with original oak beams across the ceiling, a library corner, and a boudoir alcove with plush red velvet and god leaf walls. It even has the nicest toilet I’ve been in, complete with music piped in through a hearing trumpet!
The staff were incredibly friendly and very well-trained. They were happy to either banter with us or leave us to enjoy our drinks and each other’s company, whichever we preferred. When Hannah and I mentioned how difficult it had been to find them, they explained that they’re aiming for quality, not quantity (although they did promise to give some thought to my suggestion of a 12-piece brass band to announce their presence).
They certainly delivered. Hannah and I were both impressed with our first cocktails – a scrumptious citrus and honey concoction entitled “The Bee’s Knickers”. Dru arrived whilst we were sipping them in the sheltered courtyard, and ordered himself a scotch and water. He’s not the biggest fan of cocktails, but he promptly perused the menu.
Dru kept supping his scotch while Hannah and I moved onto our next drinks; Genever Daisy for her, and an Augustus Julep for me. I liked my julep with its notes of peach and mint, but Hannah found that her drink was a little too sour for her – she prefers her cocktails sweet. Dru was under strict instructions to order her the sweetest cocktail they had when he went up for our third and final round.
We’d managed to convince him to try one of the cocktails by feeding him tastes of ours throughout the night. He’d chosen the Black Orchard Shrub; whiskey based and flavoured with apples and blackberries. I have to admit that the tiny bit I managed to try was delicious, but not nearly as much as my Lady Luscombe, which closely resembled an alcoholic Lady Grey tea. I dearly love both Lady Grey and Long Island tea, so it was the perfect cocktail for me. Hannah was delighted with the Edinburgh Clouds, which was crowned with fairy tears and definitely sweet as well as yummy.
I refused to let them clear the table all night just so I could get a picture of the aftermath, but in the end I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Instead, you’ll have to content yourselves with this picture of the last few drinks.
Once we were done, we headed inside to say a big thank you for a fantastic night. I was very pleased to be kindly allowed a copy of the menu to take home with me and Dru was delighted to have finally found a cocktail that he likes. Then it was time for the long trudge back up the hill to the High Street via the Roman Wall, and finally home to bed.
I’ll definitely be heading back to Dr Ink’s. Not only is it a magical place to spend an evening, but I also need to finish working my way through their menu!