Garden cooking
Cornish tasties
Marika Hanbury Tenison
I have an endless succession of brilliant ideas but when they are put into action they have a tendency to flop like failed souffles. At twelve I invented a machine that peeled both potatoes and oranges; only my father was interested. At sixteen I had a scheme for deep-freezing gourmet dishes; I was before my time, freezing had not yet arrived. I went into publishing, producing the first loose-leaf, washable (you could even put the sheets into a washing machine). and flame-proof cookery book that was a winner and fantastic value for money; unfortunately the high cost of production and my low knowledge of direct mail forced me to abandon the scheme and I ended up with hundreds of bio-degradable loose-leaf cookery books gathering mould in a barn.
Then I tried horticulture. I realised the time had come to make fresh countrygrown herbs available to those who had the misfortune to live in an arid city. We grew the herbs, picked sphagnum moss until late at night to pack them in and then dashed to London in order to sell them. After a couple of months, if you take into account the cost of my time, not to mention the time of
Geoff, my long-suffering gardener, and the amount it cost me in petrol to deliver those lovingly tied-up sprigs of chervill, lovage, rosemary and bay, a realistic price for the herbs worked out at about three pounds bunch and I was broke again.
At least I kept on trying. I tried with kitchen blackboard that had a delightful avocado-coloured border and a kitchen conversion chart before the threat of mat' rication had become a reality; I had an ides for packing home-made pâté and Coy
berland sauce into pottery jars, and I failed to launch an automatic stirring saucePall that worked on a magnet principle. This year, however, I finally thought I was going to hit the jackpot with a whale to lure rich Americans to my country with the promise of gourmet meals, cooked classes and visits to famous Cornish ger dens. I had to offer, I figured out, 011 experience as a cook, a wide circle of friends and a house I thought was well geared 1° good living and entertaining. Americans, I know, use a lot of water sot, felt I should instal a new bathroom and bought expensive Thermos flasks to house their iced water. On a recount I discovered hadn't enough bedrooms so at considerable expense I converted my one-time study int°, an extra bedroom. That meant I need" three extra lamps, a dressing table, an extra chest of drawers and yet another Thermos' Suddenly I realised that the accommod' ation I had happily offered my friends 05 not quite of the standard guests from across the Atlantic might expect to pay for. I had no electric heaters, no electric blankets and I cooked on an Aga that was about thirtY years old; the house had to be painted; She garage doors needed renewing; the kitchen could do with a face-lift and the chair covers in the drawing room had worn out. In order to have the kitchen cleared for the lunch to be prepared and for my morn' ing cookery classes my guests would have to have breakfast in bed. That meant eight trays, coffee and/or tea pots, salts and per pers, marmalade jars and tray cloths. 111 hopeful claims of my brochure have failee due to the weather; there will not be anY 'fresh vegetables grown entirely in the gee' den' — they haven't come up yet, the house cow that was going to provide the 'fresh country milk and cream' is going through a barren period and! am desperately trying t° think up new and amusing ways to serve the nettles which seem to be the only things really growing at the moment.
On paper things look rough. The lovelY dollar cheque that arrived last week has already been spent and re-spent and I can only hope my accountants will be glad t° hear I have made a substantial 'loss' agair this year. Meanwhile, undaunted, I am fire!, with enthusiasm once more. My house an'
garden look more beautiful than they hove ever done before, I've had a happy time inventing glorious food with which to vv00 my guests and I am about to attempt to CO Vince my bank manager that there really are times when you have to spend in order to save. If my scheme works, the Americans, I believe, will return next year in greater numbers and then, at last, I might finally begin to balance my books. Now I can only wait. There are ten days to go, the deep freeze and the larder are wellstocked and there are a dozen bottles of rye and bourbon in the cellar. Though I admit 1 g° Pale when I re-read the advertisement Put out by the travel agent in America: 'For the Traveler who has Done Almost Everything — If you'd like to spend ten days and nights on an English Country Estate as the guest of Marika Hanbury Tenison . Have breakfast served to you in bed .. . take alks in glorious Cornish gardens . . . be laVISWY entertained by local British society
• • . and learn gourmet cooking all the while ' • • We're going your way.' It seems like a Pretty tall order and I can only keep my
I finrrs crossed and pray that at least they will
find my little old Cornish farmhouse and my little old 'society' friends 'cute'.
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