What millionaires eat in Sedbergh
Jun. 8th, 2007 08:34 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
shewhomustWe ate our picnic in the car, in a grey drizzle high in the Pennines, and came down into Sedbergh, overtaking all the caravans on their way to Appleby for the horse fair. For the last mile or so into town, there were horses every few yards along the verges, grazing on the grass or munching thoughtfully on the hawthorn hedges. By the time we arrived, we were ready for a little something ourselves.
It said "Millionaire's Shortbread" on the menu, and I know what this is: a shortbread base, a layer of soft caramel, a chocolate topping, it's the biscuit I first knew as a caramel slice when my Scottish room-mate used to return from visits home with a tin full of her mother's home baking - that'd do nicely. What arrived was all that, but more so: a thick, crumbly base, lashings of soft caramel, a deep coating of chocolate, served with a garnish of red berries - and with chocolate sauce.
It bore the same relationship to shortbread as the neo-Georgian mansions we describe as "footballers' houses" bear to real houses, and it made me wonder how an old-fashioned millionaire would spend his money on shortbread: the butter hand-churned from rare-breed cows on his own Scottish island, purchased expressly for that purpose, I suppose.
Actually, the best version of this biscuit I ever had was at the café in Durham's Botanic Gardens: after a depressing microwaved pie, this amazing crisp and buttery confection, all the flavours in perfect balance and very obviously home baked...
When Sedbergh grows up, it's going to be a book town: it's made a good start, but it's not there yet.
It said "Millionaire's Shortbread" on the menu, and I know what this is: a shortbread base, a layer of soft caramel, a chocolate topping, it's the biscuit I first knew as a caramel slice when my Scottish room-mate used to return from visits home with a tin full of her mother's home baking - that'd do nicely. What arrived was all that, but more so: a thick, crumbly base, lashings of soft caramel, a deep coating of chocolate, served with a garnish of red berries - and with chocolate sauce.It bore the same relationship to shortbread as the neo-Georgian mansions we describe as "footballers' houses" bear to real houses, and it made me wonder how an old-fashioned millionaire would spend his money on shortbread: the butter hand-churned from rare-breed cows on his own Scottish island, purchased expressly for that purpose, I suppose.
Actually, the best version of this biscuit I ever had was at the café in Durham's Botanic Gardens: after a depressing microwaved pie, this amazing crisp and buttery confection, all the flavours in perfect balance and very obviously home baked...
When Sedbergh grows up, it's going to be a book town: it's made a good start, but it's not there yet.
