THE WEST’S BEST
TASTE OF THE WEST WINNERS:
A“MODERN-DAY legend” of British cheese made in Cornwall has been crowned Taste of the West’s supreme champion product of 2020.
Cornish Kern, produced by Lynher Dairies, had the competition’s panel of judges blown away by its sweet aroma, solid bite and a healthy dose of rich dairy flavours.
Owned by Catherine Mead and based near Truro, Lynher Dairies is also home to the iconic nettle-wrapped Cornish Yarg.
Both Kern and Yarg are made by hand in open vats by a small team of dedicated cheese makers who work with both science and intuition.
After having been crowned supreme champion at the World Cheese Awards in 2017, Cornish Kern was named Taste of the West’s champion cheese of 2020 before going on to claim the prestigious overall supreme champion title – fending off challenges from 24 other champion products.
Commenting on Cornish Kern’s win, Catherine said: “Our fields are where our story begins. A healthy soil rich in nutrients grows the very best grass and that is what we want our cows to feed on. Free-ranging, pasture-fed cows produce wonderful milk which in turn produces great cheese. Cornish Kern is proof of that!”
Healthy and happy cows are at the heart of the Lynher ethos, and its herd of Ayrshires are farmed to the highest of animal welfare practices, with a diet of 80% grazed grass and 20% conserved forage.
Housed on sea sand during the winter months, the salty bedding is swept up into the slurry which is sprayed on to the fields in spring, helping keep up the PH of the soil. This is particularly useful in Cornwall because the granite land has an inherently low PH and grass requires the soil to be 6.5%. The grass seed is a mix of perennial rye grasses and white clover, which is rich in protein and fixes nitrogen from the atmosphere through its root system. Pesticides are never used.
The Taste of the West Awards have been running for over 25 years and the annual programme rewards the very best food and drink made by producers from across the South West – in Cornwall, Devon, Dorset, Somerset, Gloucestershire and Wiltshire. It is the largest regional food and drink awards programme in the UK, helping food and drink businesses in the South West to thrive and succeed, with the Taste of the West logo widely regarded as a benchmark for excellence across the whole region.
The reserve supreme champion product of 2020 has been awarded to the Salted Caramel Gelato made by Baboo Gelato, based near Bridport in Dorset. Judges described it as the perfect ice-cream; smooth as silk and richly creamy with a good balance of caramel and salt. It is incredibly ‘moreish’ and can be eaten straight from the tub or as a perfect accompaniment to a whole host of desserts, they added.
John Sheaves, chief executive of Taste of the West, commented: “At a time when we are all being significantly challenged, this is a superb result. Not least because the top two products are fantastic representatives and ambassadors for our wonderful dairy sector here in the South West.
“At a time when this important sector is being asked some serious questions about sustainability, it is heartening to see two brilliant products being produced locally with minimal impact on the environment, and being rightly recognised for their quality, integrity and provenance.”
WELL, I haven’t welcomed the return of the rain and Westerly gales, which are inevitably such a feature of my life farming on Dartmoor, but boy! Were we ever fed up with the freeze? Despite it only having been a few degrees into negative figures, the relentless East wind never seemed give for a minute. The livestock don’t mind a bit of cold weather as a rule, and as long as they’ve got grub, they loaf about unconcerned. But they like a drink with their fodder, and there lies one of our problems. H2O in a solid state doesn’t run along pipes and through ball valves very easily, and after a few days of the penetrating wind, we were having to free up troughs daily everywhere – even inside sheds full of dozens of steamy, burping, cudding bullocks, where keeping the temperature down is usually the problem.
I suppose I should be grateful a lot of our stock runs out on the rough, with access to running streams and the like. They at least could find a drink. One trough, supplying a large isolated group with no stream to go to, and where a problem would suddenly escalate, was a persistent worry. So one of the lads carefully cut a twig to the right length, and wedged it across the valve chamber, just holding the float down enough that the water kept dribbling.
Around the sawmill, the freeze brought other problems. Frozen dirt and grit was seemingly superglued to every piece of round timber, which doesn’t exactly help cutting edges, and stacks of planks likewise stuck together amorphous lumps. And however carefully you creep along in the telehandler, a green oak beam with an icy surface might as well be rolling on well-greased ball bearings the way it wants to slide left or right off the forks. Poor sawyer
Barrie charges the bandsaw lubricant line with antifreeze each evening when he shuts down, and the five gallon barrel of lube comes indoors overnight. But last Tuesday, it caught him out when he stopped for a cuppa, and was solid before he fired up again.
This caused all manner of problems which took some time to sort. Then, the next day, we discovered there must’ve been a bit of emulsified oil in the bottom of the oil tank on the timber crane, borne of condensation over time…which of course had frozen too. There wasn’t much to be done about that – it wouldn’t drain out, and without a closed up heated workshop the machine, it needed a thaw.
With the world and his uncle all wanting some sawn timber, I’ve had to put more time in the mill than usual, which revealed yet more woe. The East wind was blasting straight into the open side of the building, across Barrie’s saw and onto mine. As well as making the bed of the mill very cold to handle, it kept bringing with it gusts of sawdust specially to lodge in my eyes….which isn’t much fun at all. I was soon resorting to wearing eye protection, which I don’t like doing unless there’s serious hazard- you really want clarity of vision working such equipment, and fogging up safety specs don’t exactly help.
And speaking of my own comfort, as well as numb fingers, and repeated chillblanes itching away, I’ve made a discovery. I’ve reached the point in my life where I’m no longer prepared to live in a dwelling where most of the single glazed rattly metal framed windows face East. It might be very pleasant of a midsummer morning, letting the solar rays warm the kitchen and my mood. But when a freezing Easterly is driving straight in for a week solid, making the whole house persistently cold, it takes a special state of mind to just put up with it. My dear little wife and I no longer have that state of mind.
Each evening, we’d retreat to the living room, where heavy curtains, and a roaring woodburner continually fed chunks of well-seasoned oak made for the one warm room. But at some point, one of us would have to venture out to the kitchen to make a cuppa…and be reminded how blinking cold the house was. I don’t mind going outdoors and facing what each day brings me – that goes with the territory – but we need some respite, at least, when we come back indoors. Now, I’m sure I stacked away some nice clear joinery grade stock backalong, perfect for making windows. Hmm, I’d better find a joiner, and go and dig it out before next winter.
Onwards then.
‘The livestock don’t mind cold...but they like a drink with their fodder, and there’s the problem’