Cornish Pasties at the Canning Show

    This weekend was all about the Canning Show.  A regional agricultural show just six miles down Albany Highway from where I live, it is far more...accessible... than the Perth Royal Show.  Families with youngsters and oldsters appreciate the smaller grounds and fewer mazes to walk through. It's less expensive to get in.  The entertainment program includes more local talent and the public gets an eyeful of collections too small or out of the mainstream to warrant state fair attention. The Australian Model Ship Builders Society created waves with their display as did the Holden model auto club. Get up close to crafters doing origami, patchwork, machine knitting, spinning, leatherwork, hardanger (embroidered cloth with artful holes in it) and an apiarist talking about honey.  Not too many animals at this Show located on the grounds of the greyhound racetrack (guinea pigs and rabbits only) but one still can hop on a ride and buy a show bag.  The Canning Show really picks up where the Royal Show gets off. Because of their relatively immediate  registration time, the Canning Show can highlight areas the Royal Show cannot.
    Fruits, vegetables and flowers get center stage here. A gardener will know what the patch will produce one week out (as opposed to the two months lead time required for the Royal Show) and are eager to put it all on display. Just like at the PRS, the same names keep popping up on winner cards. Does anyone enter just one item?  Get a load of that giant purple turnip on the top shelf. A jack o' lantern could have been carved from it. Extraordinary amounts of silverbeet (maybe it's known as Swiss Chard in No. America) were on a table display next to rows of flowers.
   But why am I here? For the Cookery division.  The jam class is pretty limited and I don't hyper-decorate cakes or cupcakes.  I entered some cookies to camouflage my real target: the Cornish Pasty class. Pasties-the ultimate comfort food in our family and even served at my wedding.  Three Cornish pasties on a plate.   Not "party pasties" I was told at registration but full size pasties.  Friday morning I awoke at 5 a.m., propped up my Grandma's recipe and went to work peeling and chopping potatoes, rutabagas, carrots and onions.  Mixing the vegetables with ground beef by hand (the only way, so said my Grandma) and stuffing the dough. The smell of heaven baking wafted through the house and brought Kev downstairs much earlier than he normally would. Hands off- these are for judging! I delivered them still piping hot for pre-show judging.  Competitors bringing in frosted cupcakes took one whiff and rethought their breakfast plans. My entry was first on the competitors table.
    My entry was the only one with full size pasties. Everyone else, Junior & Senior division, had  cutesie-poo party pasties. No reflection on my Grandma, but my entry only garnered a red ribbon. Second place to a poofy, petite pasty with it's glazed crimped edge on top rather than on the side (OK, I'm over it now.) My mother-in-law explained later that a top crust is the Cornish way. No photo, all food was wisely covered by white fly netting.  All was not wasted, there were still a few at home. And my toughest judge approved.