WilliamsAgnesAmelia

grandma's pasties

from 'down under'

When one arrived at the back door of Grandma's home, here in Australia, one could tell that Grandma was making pasties, because the smell of chopped onion, grated carrot and diced potato permeated the air. This was nothing however to the wonderful smells that came from the oven when the pasties were cooked and placed on racks to cool. Her pasties were wonderful to eat at any time, even cold with lashings of homemade tomato sauce.

If I was visiting when she was making pasties she would either give me a little bowl so that I could make my own, which of course was exciting, or she would let me help her and this was the grandmotherly seal of approval. The pasties were genuinely handmade. Grandma would fix the large mincer onto the edge of the kitchen table, and as children we were sometimes allowed to help by turning the mincer handle while she held her fingers over the meat in the shute at the top. I know she was concerned that we should not put our fingers in there and she told gruesome stories about fingers going through the cutters. The meat would firstly be diced, onions peeled and diced, carrots, swedes and turnips peeled and minced. Quite a time was taken over the preparation of the filling mixture and Grandma certainly had a secret ingredient. Perhaps it was the correct amount of salt and pepper, and perhaps a small pinch of nutmeg.

As I grew older she taught me to fold over the top of the pasties in her famous twist. I had to remember which pasty was mine; so that when they were cooked I could eat my own, probably because the pastry had been well and truly kneaded by my childish hands, unlike those prepared with Grandma's gentle touch.

She had a large enamel bowl, and would measure the flour into it. The dripping would then be put into the centre of the flour, and be cut in with a knife. I can remember the sound of that knife cutting in the dripping. She would then make the flour and dripping into small crumbs using her fingers. Lastly, water was added to make the correct consistency. Grandma's pastry smelt good even before it was cooked, and I was sometimes allowed to eat the scraps, although she said it would give me a stomach ache. She encouraged me to make decorations for the top of the pie or tart with the scraps of pastry, usually in the shape of a flower with leaves at the side. She made the leaves with great detail, marking a stem in the centre by pressing a knife into the leaf shape, and then with the end of the blade marking the veins as well. I loved being able to have the scraps of pastry, with which to make a small jam tart on a saucer. There was great demand for the decorations once the tart was baked, and her jam tarts and apple and currant tarts were a work of art, with the twists of pastry dividing up the sections, with a pastry rose in the centre.

The result of these experiences was that my children also have memories of me making my own pasties, and allowing them to help with the pastry and to make their own little jam tarts. I inherited my mother's mincer, and was therefore able to continue the tradition. My son Michael, a baker, makes up to two thousand pasties in a day. Probably in a fraction of the time it used to take Grandma and me, but I think that it all comes down to making pasties with passion, no matter what era we are in.

ABOUT MARGARET: Please read Margaret's article sweet are the uses of adversity to learn about this buoyant, vivacious woman. She is a writer, a cook and an entrepreneur.She is also a regular contributor. click for 'margaret's kitchen down under.'

previous mother

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		grandma's pasties from 'down under' When one arrived at the back door of Grandma's home, here in Australia, one could tell that Grandma was making pasties, because the smell of chopped onion, grated carrot and diced potato permeated the air. This was nothing however to the wonderful smells that came from the oven when the pasties were cooked and placed on racks to cool. Her pasties were wonderful to eat at any time, even cold with lashings of homemade tomato sauce. If I was visiting when she was making pasties she would either give me a little bowl so that I could make my own, which of course was exciting, or she would let me help her and this was the grandmotherly seal of approval. The pasties were genuinely handmade. Grandma would fix the large mincer onto the edge of the kitchen table, and as children we were sometimes allowed to help by turning the mincer handle while she held her fingers over the meat in the shute at the top. I know she was concerned that we should not put our fingers in there and she told gruesome stories about fingers going through the cutters. The meat would firstly be diced, onions peeled and diced, carrots, swedes and turnips peeled and minced. Quite a time was taken over the preparation of the filling mixture and Grandma certainly had a secret ingredient. Perhaps it was the correct amount of salt and pepper, and perhaps a small pinch of nutmeg. As I grew older she taught me to fold over the top of the pasties in her famous twist. I had to remember which pasty was mine; so that when they were cooked I could eat my own, probably because the pastry had been well and truly kneaded by my childish hands, unlike those prepared with Grandma's gentle touch. She had a large enamel bowl, and would measure the flour into it. The dripping would then be put into the centre of the flour, and be cut in with a knife. I can remember the sound of that knife cutting in the dripping. She would then make the flour and dripping into small crumbs using her fingers. Lastly, water was added to make the correct consistency. Grandma's pastry smelt good even before it was cooked, and I was sometimes allowed to eat the scraps, although she said it would give me a stomach ache. She encouraged me to make decorations for the top of the pie or tart with the scraps of pastry, usually in the shape of a flower with leaves at the side. She made the leaves with great detail, marking a stem in the centre by pressing a knife into the leaf shape, and then with the end of the blade marking the veins as well. I loved being able to have the scraps of pastry, with which to make a small jam tart on a saucer. There was great demand for the decorations once the tart was baked, and her jam tarts and apple and currant tarts were a work of art, with the twists of pastry dividing up the sections, with a pastry rose in the centre. The result of these experiences was that my children also have memories of me making my own pasties, and allowing them to help with the pastry and to make their own little jam tarts. I inherited my mother's mincer, and was therefore able to continue the tradition. My son Michael, a baker, makes up to two thousand pasties in a day. Probably in a fraction of the time it used to take Grandma and me, but I think that it all comes down to making pasties with passion, no matter what era we are in. ABOUT MARGARET: Please read Margaret's article sweet are the uses of adversity to learn about this buoyant, vivacious woman. She is a writer, a cook and an entrepreneur.She is also a regular contributor. click for 'margaret's kitchen down under.' previous mother top of page contact us membership agreement


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