Greggs versus Cornish Pasties
The British are deeply devoted to deliciously average meaty pastries. As I sat down on the train to Penzance, I overheard someone behind me raving about "The Best Bog-Standard[i] Sausage Rolls in England" - Greggs, it transpired. Whenever I brought up Greggs at the wedding I attended that weekend, it evoked a passionate response. A Northerner, where Greggs is particularly beloved, told me that one in three shops in his hometown are a Greggs. In Cornwall, however, Greggs has inspired county-wide protest and boycott, by adding a local delicacy to their menu: the Cornish Pasty.
Cornwall, or Kernow as it is known in indigenous kernewek, is the Western-most county of the England. It is remote, taking at least four hours by train to reach from London. This isolation allowed a rich cultural tradition to flourish, independent of the melting pot of Roman and Anglosaxon culture elsewhere in Britain. Cornwall is famous for sorcery and myth, mermaids and mysterious islands. Some believe that mythology was developed to explain the curious collapses of tin mines, or that perhaps the toxic fumes inhaled by the miners induced vivid visions documented as lore. It is in these mines that the Cornish Pasty journey began.
While visiting Cornwall, an American friend blasphemously thought that every “Cornish Pasty” sign was consistently misspelling the word "pastry". The word "pasty" is pronounced like the woman's name "Patsy" with the "T" and "S" switched, and not like its other usage, the way we describe the skin of some pale Britons in the depths of winter.
The Cornish Pasty is a pastry filled with peppered chunks of meat, potatoes, onions and herbs. The pastry is folded over and sealed with crimped edges, like an empanada. One origin story is that miners with dirty hands ate them for lunch, holding the crimped edges of the pastry to devour the body and discarding them like crusts once finished. Chefs above ground would shout “Hoggan” (kernewek for pasty) down the shaft three times to signal that the pasties were ready. Down below, this was heard as “ogga” and the miners would respond with a resounding chorus of “ois”. The chant’s legacy lives on when Australians bellow, “Aussie aussie aussie, oi oi oi.”
Nowadays, Cornish Pasties are enjoyed by the masses. The Cornish Pasty Association reckons that pasties generate £300 million in trade per year, or 20% of the food and drink sector in Cornwall. The Cornish are as passionate about their protected geographical indication as the Champagne producers of France: a true Cornish Pasty can only be made in Cornwall. This made for a controversial showdown with the national British food icon, Greggs, and the Cornish locals, after they dared to introduce a Cornish Pasty to their menu.
At stake is that Greggs does not manufacture its Cornish Pasties in Cornwall, and might crowd out local Cornish bakers. Despite the boycott, some Greggs still operate, and their Google Reviews make for some spicy reading. Thomas writes, “Who needs the vibrant and diverse offerings of local bakeries when you can have the pleasure of biting into a Greggs pasty that tastes like it's been through a flavour-removal machine?” Aaminah adds, “Support Cornish business instead. It’s like getting Wagamamas while staying in Japan.”
But one commenter illuminates the tension between local business and national chains, and the valuable role that Greggs has to play in one of the poorest counties in England. Nigel tells us that Greggs is “a lot cheaper and [with] more choice than your usual local bakeries here.” According to my brother, you can buy three sausage rolls for £4 at Greggs or splash out £4.20 for a Cornish Pasty at one of the iconic local bakeries. Several other loyal fans come to Greggs defence, those who genuinely do enjoy the taste of their pastries like my London train companion, or appreciate how affordable and consistent they are.
I enjoyed my amazing locally produced pasty today, Philps’ cheese and vegetables option that somehow still tasted like peppery meat. I also appreciate the importance of promoting local entrepreneurs and honouring traditions. But I can’t help but wonder what we lose by villainising big businesses, when they have the potential to unite Britons around the country in this case while enjoying affordable, tasty national treasures like the sausage roll or the Cornish Pasty.
[i] When asking my brother the etymology of the phrase, “bog-standard”, he suggested it might mean “regular”, as in, the regularity of going to the bog. Bog in the UK is another word for toilet.