In a move much like Mary, Joseph and the royal baby returning to Bethlehem from Nazareth, this Saturday the family moved en masse back to the village where my granny and great-uncle were born for the annual Latchley, Chilsworthy and Cox Park show.
She was born in the late 1930s in a farmhouse in Chilsworthy, a little village in the Tamar Valley in east Cornwall, where many members of her (and my, by extension) family still live; in fact, her cousin now lives in that farmhouse, though I'm told it's been much extended and altered since Granny was small.
We arrived under threatening grey clouds, but thankfully the weather held off for most of the day - much to our relief, as the fête takes place each year in a local field and, being the townmice from Plymouth, we probably didn't have the appropriate footwear for navigating Cornish mud.
Once our troupe had assembled (comprising me, my parents, sister, two sets of grandparents and Uncle Roger), we set off into the show ground. Set out around the main show ring were an abundance of stalls, as well as the craft tent, a dog show, a congregation of vintage vehicles and a slightly precarious-looking bouncy slide.
Grandad made some new acquaintances before we headed into the main tent to see the vast array of prize-winning produce and handicrafts.
Granny's first port of call was the needlework and knitting table. For those otherwise unacquainted with village fête procedures, there are many categories and sub-categories into which anybody could enter their work - prizes were given for, for example, the best cross-stitch, cherry cake, pasties and flower arrangements. Given that many extended family members still live locally to the show, some familiar names cropped up, including that of Mrs Martin, a friend of my granny's who made my dad a hand-knitted Father Christmas when he was dinky-tiny.
As an aspiring knitter myself (I've thus far managed copious French-knit sausages and one actual scarf-in-progress), it was amazing to see what decades of knitting knowledge could create; I particularly liked the blue sweater above, but I won't aim too high, I've got a long way to go yet.
The patchworks were also beautifully made and Granny's cousin Barbara had very deservedly won a prize in this category. Personally, I would have given a prize to whomever used the most tiny elephant fabric and this is why I have never been asked to judge a patchwork competition.
I think it's safe to say that the next category was among my favourites. Apparently, the local WI group had received a detailed brief and their mission was as follows: to create a 'piece' with a nursery rhyme theme, containing one sweet and one savoury item of cooking, a floral arrangement and two types of additional handicrafts.
If you just can't visualise all of these components working in harmony as one, fear not, because here I have photographs (and many more over on my Instagram page):
Now, as you'll have seen in the title of this post, the LCCP show will be forever known to our family as the 'Biggest Carrot Show' and for good reason. One of the main exhibits in the tent of many things was the wealth of homegrown vegetables, produced by local farmers and mere mortals alike. One year, there was apparently a rather large carrot, hence the imaginative and thoughtful name thereafter given to the show by my parents.
It transpired that there was also a category for the local children who had got into their grandpa's vegetable patch and caught themselves a prize lettuce.
Some other very talented littlies had made their own miniature gardens, which is something I used to do as a little girl at my grandparents' house, fashioning goldfish ponds out of jam tart cases. It was particularly interesting to observe the work of those who had interpreted the term 'garden' in a classic, traditional sense and those who had allowed themselves a little more artistic license.
Naturally, there were home-baked farmhouse cakes aplenty. In order to make the competition fair, each contestant (I'm making it sound as much like the Great British Bake-Off as possible) has to bake their cake from the same recipe, but there was a remarkable difference between some of them, presumably due to differences in ovens or ingredient quality. Granny's cousin Barbara won again in this category with a v lovely looking cherry cake.
Homemade jams, chutneys and wines also featured on the same stand. So many people are growing their own fruit and vegetables, not only farmers but ordinary folk too. I suppose it's part of the retro revival which has come out of the recession, like keeping chickens, mending and making your own clothes, baking from scratch. Making preserves is quite a simple way of using your own produce and they make lovely gifts for others too. (I say simple, but I did have my granny's assistance the last time I made bramble jelly - I'm definitely going to try again in the autumn).
The three villages' children had been busy in the kitchen too; there was a wide array of jam tarts, iced biscuits and fairy cakes, all beautifully presented. There definitely must be some future Jo Wheatleys or John Whaites in east Cornwall - or, dare I say it, some quite helpful mummies and daddies...? I jest, the kids' section was very impressive and the dolly mixture buns were lovely.
Outside the main tent, many classic cars and their owners had assembled to display their vehicles - we even spotted one of Uncle Roger's old cars, a Triumph Toledo, and the Weasleys' vehicle of choice, a Ford Anglia. And, as this is rural Cornwall, there was of course a veritable wealth of vintage tractors; I don't know whether the vintage community at large will be interested in tractors and farm vehicles, but, as usual, there are many more photos on my Instagram profile.
Soon, the executive decision was made that it was time for tea. Thankfully, the Albaston WI were on hand - this time without Humpty Dumpty - with traditional Cornish cream teas. Instead of the more usual scones, it is traditional in Cornwall to use 'splits' or, as they were called on this occasion, 'tufts'; these are more like a sweet, slightly denser bread roll than a scone. The other ingredients (clotted cream, strawberry jam and a nice cup of tea, to quote both George Orwell and Binnie Hale - not something that is often done simultaneously) remain unchanged. However, the debate over which goes on first, the jam or the cream, rages on.
The afternoon's entertainment was provided by the 'Barrow Arrows' and is probably best described as a combination of Dad's Army and Dambusters, as imagined by local farmers and interpreted through the medium of wheelbarrow. Throughout the sketch, the Barrow Arrows fought to defeat the dastardly Red Baron (slightly different war, but who's counting?), who was resplendent in a scarlet jumpsuit, Kaiser-esque moustache and pickelhaube helmet. Amid many jokes about pesky Germans and even pesky Extonians, I kept quiet - I might have been quite unpopular had it been discovered that I'm a Modern Languages student at Exeter University...
After the exertions of such a patriotic show, we had one last tour of the outskirts of the show and the craft tents, where basket weavers and potters were demonstrating their crafts and selling their wares. I made a final purchase before we headed home, buying a pot of Cornish honey and a little piece of stamped beeswax at a stall run by local beekeeper and honey producer Sue Malcolm from Saltash. (And I would highly recommend the honey, I had some at breakfast this morning - yum!)
Honey in hand, we made our way out of the showground and home, full of clotted cream and lots of ideas for future crafts and baking. Having seen so many fantastic things made by some very talented people, I'm thinking of investing in a vintage-style craft book like Pearl Lowe's - what do you think?
(: xx
