A few years ago I spent an afternoon hanging around on a beach in Anguilla. It was a hot lazy Sunday afternoon - and on this very dark wet day in February during a lockdown I could do with being there again… We had a really good lunch at Johnno’s on the beach at Sandy Ground - where there was some fantastic live music being played…

I was going to start by saying that here’s a walk for Poldark fans. But that is ridiculous - anyone can enjoy this lovely seaside hike in Cornwall whether they’ve seen the TV show or not. But Poldark fans will probably recognise the church because as far as I can recall the little stone-built beach-side temple on the west coast of The Lizard appeared in several episodes.  What television viewers will not know is that the church at Church Cove is said to be made of wine.  There are such things dotted around the world on coasts where sailors have survived a drowning. The shipwrecked mariners build a shrine in thanks to their Lord, and if the ship in which they were travelling happens to have been carrying wine – they ritualistically pour some into the mortar mix.   No one knows off this really was the case at St Winwaloe’s near Gunwalloe - but it is probably closer to the sea than any other church in the West Country. When the tide is up and there’s a blow from the west, spray must beat against its ancient door. In this walk we explore the region south of Halzephron Cliff along the littoral to the south of Mullion Cove, taking in Church Cove and its temple and neighbouring Poldhu Cove.  To find the area, travel south from Helston alongside the giant Culdrose airbase and turn right, taking signs for Gunwalloe. This is a cul-de-sac of a lane that takes you down to the coast. At the end of this road you’ll come to Church Cove. Once there, you’ll see a large car park behind the farm at Winnianton - and one walking option is to do the short but highly enjoyable figure-of-8 hike that took me an hour-and-a-half.  And what a walk it was – one of those bright-light-treatment jobs that make you feel exhilarated to be alive. First though, the boring bit. I walked back up the hill I’d just driven down so that I could reach the top of Halzephron Cliff and turn south once again. This is not so bad as you may think because, after a narrow bit, the roadside sward widens into a pleasant path. Eventually the road reaches the cliff-side and this is where you turn left along the coast path. It’s called Halzephron by the way, because the prefix comes from the Cornish “als” – or Hell (“ephron” comes from the Cornish “yfarn” for cliff). And hell it is – or would be if you happened to be afloat here in a storm. Many ships have come to grizzly ends below these crags. The coast path takes you out along this small headland and around the point at Pedngwinian. Now the path turns south east to descend slowly around the ramparts of a rocky beach called Jangye-ryn. You are now back to more-or-less where you parked, but do not think of going home yet because next comes one of the strangest and most unexpected bits of the Cornish coast. Jangye-ryn is separated from Church Cove by the small but noble headland which protects St Winwaloe from the waves.  This promontory raises its grassy head on a 60 foot shoulder of rock that ascends abruptly from the salty lowlands that lurk behind both beaches and play host to the church. There was a settlement here in Domesday times and there was a church of sorts – but the present building dates back to around the 14th or 15th centuries.  I walked around the mini-headland to enjoy views of both bays and the church and its graveyard. One of the oddest things about St Winwaloe is that its small tower is completely separate from the main building, being set snug against the steep inner bank of the headland. It is a romantic place. No wonder the BBC Poldark crew used it as a location. Noticing a public right of way ascending inland from the church up over the golf course, I climbed the National Trust owned Towans (as the course is known) and then joined the lane south down to Poldhu Cove. The trust owns much of the land around here, and a good thing too. I read somewhere that Church Cove used to become one giant car park in summer when vehicles were allowed on the beach and this was having a ruinous effect on the fragile environment.  Much the same applied to Poldhu Cove, but now cars have been prevented from parking there too, and marram grass has been planted to stabilise the dunes. Having reached Poldhu it’s a matter of joining the coast path and heading back north to Church Cove. As you go, you may ponder over which sailor built the sea-borne church in gratitude to his Maker. No one knows if the legend is true, but it’s a fact that the King of Portugal’s treasure ship – the St Anthony – went down near here in 1527 and that an unidentified Spanish ship was wrecked just north of the church in the 1780’s.  Legends of gold, silver and grateful sailors have been associated with the location ever since, but then, it’s that sort of place. Fact File:  Basic hike: Park at Winnianton, walk back up road to Halzephron Cliff, join coast path back to Church Cove – then take right of way across golf course inland and join road down to Poldhu Cove before taking the coast path back to start. Recommended map: OS Explorer 103 The Lizard. Distance and going: three and a half miles, easy going. LOCAL KNOWLEDGE A must at Mullion The Lizard is a long way for most people to reach so staying a night or two there is recommended. And I’d certainly recommend the dog-friendly Mullion Cove Hotel just two miles from today’s walk. Good food, brilliant views.  www.mullion-cove.co.uk Five Pilchards at Porthallow If the prevailing wind and weather is proving too much on Lizard’s west coast, pop across to the eastern shore and take refreshment at the cosy 300-year-old Five Pilchards at Porthallow. The name comes from the traditional way of counting pilchards in groups of five. ww.thefivepilchards.co.uk Midway Marker If you do find yourself in Porthallow, doff your cap to the Midway Marker. It is the splendid plaque which tells long distance hikers they are halfway around the South West Coast Path. Whichever way you’re headed, there’s only 315 miles to go.

From looking at the analytics for this site I can see that articles about forgotten corners of Cornwall are one of the favourite topics among visitors. So I thought I’d put up a couple more… One day, when I was down in deepest Southern Cornwall on other journalistic business, and I took the opportunity to make the best of walking hay while the sun shone.  The full-on heat of summer 2019 unveiled itself while I was passing Pentewan, the seaside village situated on the B3273 between St Austell and Mevagissey - and the sort of place that many of us tend to drive past without stopping. That’s maybe because of the large caravan site that dominates the area inland from the beach – and partly because many motorists will be on their way to the Lost Gardens of Heligan nearby. However, once you pull off the road and enter the older part of Pentewan you discover a wonderfully scenic little place. In the 19th century it was a busy port exporting china clay and importing coal, but the history of this highly protected coastal settlement dates back all the way to the Bronze Age.  We parked in the small car park just past the Ship Inn – the only remaining public house of three that used to ply a trade here. I imagine the dozen or so spaces in the village car park can become rather over-subscribed, but this was early on a weekday and there was no one else around.  The harbour basin at Pentewan is now unused, save as a reserve for some swans and ducks. You can still see vestiges of the old Pentewan Railway that used to run between St Austell and this quayside. It was opened in 1830 and was at first powered by gravitational pull on the down-side, and horses on the up. After 1874 steam locomotives were introduced, but operations ceased in 1916 as the channel into the harbour became increasingly silted. If you had all day to spend walking in the area then an ideal route would be all the way up the South West Coast Path to Charlestown and back via inland tracks and lanes. But we had time constraints and were restricted to a couple of hours at most.  So this walk takes us north the coast path almost as far as enigmatic Black Head, then round the corner to the Ropehaven Cliffs Nature Reserve and back via an inland route. To begin, you have to walk a little way up the steep lane that ascends north out of Pentewan then, turning sharp right where you see the sign, stroll alongside the attractive line of houses known as The Terrace.  It’s rather unusual compared to most terraces, in that the village church is directly attached to one end. Ruins found hereabouts apparently suggest that a monastery once stood on the spot, but historical investigation was somewhat hampered by the fact that two German bombs were dropped on Pentewan in 1942, blowing several buildings in the vicinity to smithereens. The coast path now climbs away from the village, offering fantastic views of the twin beach of Pentewan and Sconhoe as it goes. Now begins a roller coaster of a walk around the clifftops of Polrudden Cove. You can enjoy wonderful glimpses of Black Head along the way, but often you’ll be climbing hillsides as steep as a house.  Past the old quarries the path dips and climbs, not that the diggings are particularly apparent, being largely overgrown. Eventually, after descending to flirt with the waves several times, the path reaches a sheltered cove called The Vads.  By this time our brief flirt with the warmth of spring had disappeared under black clouds and a really cold east wind, so we decided to leave magnificent Black Head for another day and took the footpath inland to the hamlet of Trenarren. There’s a paved lane her but we avoided this by skirting it along the footpath which runs parallel to the seaward and which eventually took us to the Ropehaven Cliffs Nature Reserve. The Cornwall Wildlife Trust site consists mainly of steep wooded slopes which are occasionally prone to slipping into the sea. When a landslide does occur it reveals some of the oldest sedimentary rocks in the region – and fossils which have been found show that this was an area of tropical seabed some 400 million years ago. The remains of corals, sea lilies, shellfish, primitive fish and squid have been found. I’d like to have had a closer look around but climbing temperatures took us away from the ancient tropical seas and we headed inland around the north of Trenarren on another footpath which then led us due west towards the farm at Trevissick before cutting south then west again to reach the Pentewan-Duporth lane at a point about a mile north of the former village.  Now it was simply a matter of turning left and marching along the lane - enjoying sweeping views of Mevagissey Bay as we went – before dropping down the steep hill which ends more or less at the car park where we began. The road wasn’t particularly busy and the hedges sheltered us from the worst of the burning sun, which was just as well as, getting on towards midday, the temperature was climbing towards 30 degrees. Fact file: Basic hike: From Pentewan village, north along coast path to The Vads, just before Black Head, turning inland past Trenarren to the Ropehaven Cliffs Nature Reserve, then back via inland path past the farm at Trevissick then along the Duporth lane. Recommended map: Ordnance Survey Explorer 105 Falmouth & Mevagissey. Distance and going: Four miles, but fairly arduous along coastal section.  LOCAL KNOWLEDGE Pentewan Sands If you were thinking of staying in the immediate area of this walk then the Pentewan Sands Holiday Park has been named one of the top tourist accommodation businesses of its kind in the South West. It has two indoor swimming pools, excellent family facilities and a range of holiday accommodation. Check out https://pentewan.co.uk Must be Mevagissey The famous fishing community is just around d the corner from Pentewan and is always worth a visit. An excellent place for a spot of fish-n-chip enjoyment right by the busy harbour. Has to be Heligan Everyone has heard of the Lost Garden at Heligan but if for some reason you have not been able to visit, then do yourself a favour and go. It is a remarkable place which offers one of the most interesting days out in the South West. https://www.heligan.com/

Earlier today I promised my favourite pub landlady - Lesley Webber of the amazing Pig’s Nose at East Prawle - that I’d put some more sunshine photos up on this website…. I’d never like to disappoint Lesley - so here are some snaps I took on a beach in the Caribbean a couple of years ago.. Jost van Dyke Beach in the British Virgin Islands, to be exact. We had sailed in the Star Clipper west around a peninsula of Tortola called Frenchman’s Cay, where we moored to take a moonlit tender into a place called Sopper Sole - which was probably a little harbour of great charm once but now has been converted to look and feel like a kind of St Moritz-by-Sea.   Sometimes the Star Clipper does long voyages during the night as you dine in its large but cosy dining room on a multi-course meal that is served by waiters who could teach the average server in the UK many things about the art of blending efficiency with friendliness.  I mention the overnight voyaging because our next port of call, Jost van Dyke island, is only five miles distant from Sopper’s Hole, and yet we hammered along under sail from dusk until dawn. The Star Clipper does that sometimes taking great tacks out to sea, not that it matters because being under sail keeps the ship on a much better even keel than lurching about at anchor.  Jost van Dyke was a Dutch pirate who used to like to hang out on this remote island - and who could blame him? It has one of the best beaches in the BVI, albeit one that is now replete with many bars a little artisan shops in various shacks beneath the palms.

I’ve spent the afternoon putting together a talk I will be giving online soon for the South West Heritage Trust - see here for more details https://swheritage.org.uk/events/walking-the-somerset-landscape-with-martin-hesp/ In searching around for images with which to illustrate the talk, I’ve come across a number of old photos I snapped while filming various walks and other series for ITV Westcountry. I really liked doing the programmes and we had enormous fun belting around the entire South West - always with producer Cathy Sayers and mostly with my good mate, cameraman Chris Harris. Various other ITV staff sound-engineers and cameramen came with us at various times. I’d love to be reminded of their names if anyone knows… The first two photos were taken while we were filming a series called Icons of the Westcountry - and on this occasion we were focussing on Golden Cap - the highest hill along the entire English South Coast. The next three images were snapped up on Dartmoor when we were doing a really good circular walk based around Warren Inn. Because there were no roads we carried all the heavy equipment right around the 6 mile route. I always laugh at the third of the photos - it looks like I’ve been shrunk and am talking to a giant film crew. The next set of images were all taken on the Isles of Scilly. We did a walk there, and on another occasion we flew over for a couple of days to film another Icons of the Westcountry. The walk I think was on Tresco, where you can see the crew chilling out in the waiting room before the ferry took us off to another of the isles. A couple of the other shots are on St Mary’s where we interviewed a guy called Keri Jones who used to run Isles of Scilly Radio. We also met Harold Wilson’s widow - completely out of the blue… She was tending her late husband’s grave and after a bit of a chat she agreed to give us an interview. I have a feeling that episode won some kind of recognition at an awards thingy. And here we are in Doc Martin Country. We went to Port Isaac one a couple of occasions - the first time to do the quite long walk (with heavy filming equipment) from Port Isaac to Port Quin - and I pulled of a bit of a coup by getting my old friend Jon Cleave of the Fisherman’s Friends to perform for us with his mates - and we used that music from then on as the theme tune for the series. We also went there to actually meet Doc Martin and we carried a really good chat with Martin Clunes, who was wonderfully friendly and helpful. The next photo was taken at Hardy’s Cottage in Dorset where the National Trust kindly allowed us to film And these two images were taken at the very first TV walk we ever did. Indeed, this was my first piece to camera - and the beginning of a long run of programmes which stretched over a period of almost five years. I do have more photos somewhere and if I can find them and some of the TV we did, i’ll put them up here. But these last images were taken at the Minack Theatre in Cornwall - as you will recognise… Another of our Icons of the Westcountry.

In the present lockdown there are times when thought filter down the valley and out over a thousand hinterlands to remember somewhere hot and please - and thin s Sun day afternoon I’ve been remember a lovely little island called Ko Lipe off the west coast of Thailand, just north of the Malay border. If you think tropical islands should have white sand beaches, forests of palm trees, no roads and villages inhabited by indigenous roving sea-gypsies, then you’d love Ko Lipe. It's part of Tarutao National Marine Park, which is made up of small islands and known for its coral-rich waters. The island has sandy beaches, including Pattaya and Hat Chao Le. Dive sites in the area include the 8 Mile Rock pinnacle and the Yong Hua Shipwreck, which I didn’t get to see. But I once spent a morning swimming in its warm seas and lolling on the beach before repairing to Pooh’s restaurant situated 20 minute’s walk into the jungle for lunch. I think it cost about two quid each – and it was one of the best meals ever to have passed my lips. The salad was a sensation, and Pooh himself was a rather elegant young man who seemed to be a sort of oriental Arthur Daly figure. He had fingers in just about every pie on the island, from scuba diving businesses to beach hut rentals and internet cafes. Emailing home from a grass sided hut in the middle of a boiling hot jungle was one of the weirdest things I have ever done. Ko Lipe is home to many aboriginal Malay people, known as the Urak Lawoi. Some of the men were building beautiful wooden boats in the woodlands. I visited just after the dreadful 2004 Indian Ocean tsunami which killed so many people. And you could see the damage it had done on Ko Lipe. I saw all sorts of heavy detritus hanging about 20 up in trees by the beach. But a local person told me that no one on the island had been hurt or killed by the giant waves. He said they knew it was coming and went off to sea in their boats. This interesting bloke - who I spent an hour or two speaking with - verified this - and told me I ought to stay for a few months like he had done… I was tempted…

If there’s one thing most of us will feel in desperate need of at this time of the year as the winter keeps doling out bouts of cold and grey weather, it is a little sunshine.  You used to be able to jump on an airliner and get it; in a centrally heated conservatory and feel it through the windows; or some people dream about it under a sun-bed - but generally speaking the rays still beam down upon a world too that is chilly for its own good.  You can, however, have a go at making your own. By which I mean prepare some kind of food that somehow captures the essence of sunshine.  There are foods and dishes all around the hotter parts of the world which seem to encapsulate the fact that they’ve been grown or prepared with the help of masses of sunlight. One home of sunshine food is the bright warm archipelago of the Canaries where some things served at table seem to screech sunshine up at you.  Anyone who has holidayed down there halfway to the Equator will know that most savour meals are accompanied by two or sometimes three small pots containing brightly coloured substances. In our stumbling culinary English we might describe them as dips, or sauces, or even salsas - but the real name for these intensely flavoured little accompaniments is mojo - pronounced mO-ho.  And they really do add a splash of sunshine to just about everything imaginable, from dry bread to hearty stews, from Canarian salted new potatoes to grilled octopus - which happens to be my own favourite way of consuming these liquid flavour bombs.   Mojo come in all manner of colours from orange to fiery red, or green to porcelain white, depending on their ingredients. Basically all are heavily flavoured with garlic - some are mild and creamy while others are spicy, or picón as it’s known locally.  Most will contain quite a lot of olive oil - some vinegar, or orange, lemon or lime juice - local sea salt, red pepper, generous amounts of cumin, almonds, thyme, oregano, coriander along with several other spices.  Canarian islanders - being from the busiest corner of the heaving Atlantic Ocean - emigrated all over the world down the centuries and took their mojos with them to places like Cuba, Puerto Rico, and Venezuela, other parts of Latin America and many of the non-Hispanic Caribbean islands. But back at home in the islands most Canarian families have their own recipe for mojo - and let me say right away that the fresh homemade offerings are vastly superior to the jarred, industrially-made, versions served in many of the tourist restaurants. I was on a walking tour of Lanzarote with my friends from Ramblers Worldwide Holidays, and the beauty of this was the fact that we reached remote villages high in the hills or along lonely coasts, well away from the main visitor centres. The little restaurants and bars where we stopped for late lunches or tapas were more likely to bring us homemade dishes accompanied by mamma’s or granny’s favourite award-winning mojos.  The saucy offerings can be hugely variable in flavour, spiciness and texture. For example, there is a creamy garlicky almond mojo which is often used to accompany roasted meat. Canarian saffron is another favourite ingredient - apparently mojos made with it are often served alongside fried cheese. The wonderful thing is that, unlike so many holiday sunshine foods which do not travel well to freezing old Blighty, mojos made here can taste just as good as those found in the remote mountain restaurants and bars of Lanzarote. What you need are fresh good quality ingredients and one of those small food processors which are much better for making tiny amounts of liquid mixes than their big brothers where you end up having to make a minimum of half a pint. Having said that, many of the oil and vinegar based mojos will last in jars kept in the fridge for weeks or even months.  The secret is to experiment around the basic theme, adding whatever flavourings take your fancy. Even the most basic of mojos will add real life and sunshine to end of British winter stodgy stews and roasts that somehow require a kick up their lacklustre backsides. My stolid beef casserole this week suddenly became so exciting I thought it capable of leaping off the plate to dance the South American tango…  Basic Red Mojo  Bulb of best garlic you can find, 1 red chilli, 1 teaspoon of cumin freshly ground, 1 teaspoon of paprika, 4 tablespoons of vinegar, 10 tablespoons of olive oil, sea salt to taste. Peel the garlic cloves and take out any green cores which you find developing at this time of year. Put all the ingredients into the mini-food-processor and whizz into a thick paste. This can be diluted with a splash of water - or better still the juice of an orange or a couple of tangerines.  Basic Green Mojo  1 green peppers, small bunch of fresh coriander or parsley, 4 cloves of garlic, 2 teaspoons sea salt, 2 tablespoons white wine vinegar, 4 tablespoons olive oil 1 teaspoon cumin, 1 slice of white bread. Again, simply bung the lot into the mini-food-processor and whizz for 30 seconds. I add blanched ground almonds and lime juice if I am going to serve this mojo with fish. Another variation on the green theme mojo verde uses avocado - a mix which I think goes very well with salty traditional British cheeses like a strong cheddar.

Now that the mooring ropes have finally been cast off and the good ship Britannia edges out into an ocean all of its own making, we can look back to consider what - if anything - we learned from being tied to Europe for so many years. And perhaps it is in the area of food and drink that we have gleaned so much. After all, many of us will remember what was on offer in the UK before we joined the EU in the early 1970s, and pretty poor and miserable fare it was too. I remember the delight of visiting even the most basic of French supermarkets - the only store that could have come close to offering the wide range and quality in the UK at the time was Harrods Food Hall.  We’ve caught up, big-time.  But there is one area in which we still lag far behind - and that is in the way we fail to rejoice in and celebrate localism. Yes, we’ve come a long way in that too - as organisations such as Taste of the West and Food Drink Devon prove - but here’s an example of how we continually ignore the things we do best… If you were given just a second to name the things for which this region is well known, you’d probably come up with Cornish pasties, clotted cream and maybe Red Devon beef on the food side - and you’d list cider as our most famous drink. And yet few visitors entering a supermarket west of Bristol would know it. Go to a French supermarket in Normandy or Brittany and there’ll be entire aisles devoted to the local cider. Here one or two stores have a “local produce” stands parked somewhere in a corner - which may include a few bottles of our famous fermented apple drink. They will also have a collection of so-called “quality” ciders perched above plastic bottles of the cheap stuff - but few if any will shout loud and proud about coming from the West Country. That is crazy! And you really do get to understand how crazy when you talk to someone like Barny Butterfield, of Sandford Orchards - a fast-emerging yet highly traditional Devon company which produces some four million bottles of the good stuff each year.  Just like the French use words like “appellation” and “terrior” when they are defining local food and drink, Barny will talk about the fine red sandstones of the Creedy Valley and the microclimate that comes from being protected by the granite mass of Dartmoor.  Barny is not only an eloquent evangelist when it comes to good cider, he is a pioneer. And you know that statement has credibility when you hear him say… “In 2002 I made 200 gallons of cider - we did 2 million litres in 2020. All the twos! And I still have my first bottling machine - which I keep in my pocket. It’s an inch and a quarter of garden hose which went on a the end of a barrel and I could fill a bottle without getting wet feet.  “Our new machine can do 6,500 bottles per hour. I could have bottled the whole of my output 18 years ago in 15 minutes!” But it’s not the success of Sandford Orchards that Barny wanted to talk about - it’s the story. The authentic, historic, story of Devon cider. The story which shows how fermented apple juice created in the Devon way was so wonderful and refreshing to taste that wealthy merchants and aristocrats in London much preferred it to dodgy foreign wine in times of yore… A point which I verified with leading cider expert James Crowden who is at present writing a new book on the subject - Cider Country (published by Harper Collins) will be launched in August. James told me: “Devon cider was famous and was exported to London from ports like Topsham, Salcombe, Dartmouth and Kingsbridge. Daniel Defoe commented in the 1720s that the trade amounted to around 20,000 hogsheads annually. “Defoe certainly had a taste for Devon cider and commented on it favourably several times in his writings. In a letter from his West Country travels in the 1720s he states…  ‘There is one article in the produce of Devonshire which makes good what I have written before, that every county contributes something towards the supply of London. And this is the cyder which takes up the south part of the county where they have so vast a quantity of fruit, and so much cyder made, that sometimes they have sent ten, or twenty thousand hogsheads of it in a year to London, and at a very reasonable rate too’.” James added: “Defoe also comments that the London Vintners use the Devon cider to perk up their wine…” Barny Butterfield is well aware of this rich heritage: “Devon cider was always known for being very fragrant and of a very fine quality - so we’ve stuck with plantings to go with that,” he told me, explaining that Sandford Orchards now grows its own cider apple varieties while also purchasing traditional fruit from a patchwork of local farms around the Crediton area, (some of which are now contracted to grow exclusively for the company).   “You don’t grow pineapples in Northumbria or potatoes in Sahara,” says Barny. “Having a natural sympathy with the land will tell you what will grow well. Millions of years ago a sandstone mountain range sat on top of what is now Dartmoor - there was a similar one in Wales - and they both washed down their alluvial soils to surrounding lowlands. So you have Monmouth and Herefordshire - and you have the Creedy Valley and another pocket around Wellington in Somerset. It is the same soil, and these areas are famed for their orchards and apples. In geological terms, it is actually called the Crediton Measures. “So we know we are in exactly the right place to be making cider,” says Barny, whose Sandford Orchards is based in the old headquarters of the Creedy Valley Cider Company.  “Within living memory Devon was massive for cider,” he added. “In 1955 one quarter of all the cider made in England came from Whimple (the old Whiteways Devon Cyder Company), just down the road.” But it all goes back way before that - and even long before the likes of Daniel Defoe… Barny mused: “What I love about the story of apples and cider is that it originally came down the Silk Road. Apple trees came out of Kazakstan where there are still wild apple forests. If you take the story from our end - Crediton was the home of serge-making. It was the best woollen cloth you could buy and it was being traded in places like Florence.  “Even nowadays we tend to see ourselves as a kind of isolated little English peninsula - and yet there we were hundreds of years ago being part of a global trade system. Apples came one way, our wool cloth went the other.” The whole idea of being part of this long tradition seems to delight the 43 Year old who grew up in Sanford at the heart of Devon’s apple area…  “The house I grew up in was surrounded by orchards, so it was predestined I was going to end up in cider,” he laughed when we talked on the phone this week. “I went away to university and studied something which wasn’t very applicable - but I’m a country boy and couldn't stick the town. So after uni’ I went back to working on a farm - and I was enjoying farming, but didn't earn enough money to go to the pub often enough. So I figured I'd make some cider to drink.  “And, in keeping with the centuries old Devon tradition, the farmer gave me space in a barn and let me make cider for myself.” From that first 200 gallons, Barny’s business has grown to the size where it is one of the leading examples of modern authentic cider-making in the UK.   “Our blend is faithful to a natural Devon style of cider - easy going with a gentle tannic kick and a clean apple finish,” he says with a noticeable degree of pride.  A pride which is well deserved, because Barny Butterfield and his Sandford Orchards have now become a true part of Devon’s long and delicious cider-making history.

A few years ago I joined a cookery session with some of England’s top rugby players. Not a lot of people can say such a thing - but I really did cook with a group of guys from the Exeter Chiefs some years ago. They were being given a lesson in the kitchens of one of their favourite fuelling stations…. By which I mean the excellent Jack in the Green gastro-pub at Rockbeare just outside Exeter. Both Paul Parnell (the owner) and Matt Mason (head chef for 28 years ) are great rugby fans and they had some deal or other which allowed the Chiefs to go there for massive steaks and whatever… My daughter Nancy came along to take some photos - at a time when she was just beginning her photography career. Matt has now moved on from the Jack after more than a quarter of a century at the Jack’s stoves. Below I include a note about what he’s doing now . But here I’d like to say how much I enjoyed meeting with Matt down the years. We worked on many food articles together which appeared in the Western Morning News, including features about the really good recipe book which the Jack produced - and another about Matt’s 25th anniversary at this remarkable inn.   Anyway, this is how I began the article about learning to cook with the Exeter Chiefs… Everyone knows that the human body needs fuel, but some bodies need more sustenance than others. And in some cases - when you are talking about very big, extremely hard-working, bodies - what’s needed are enormous quantities of high-octane rocket fuel. Set 20-stone of solid muscle working and battling on a Premiership rugby pitch for a game that lasts 80-minutes, and you really do need to know that every single atom in your power-source is giving what’s needed. The old idea of rugger players swilling vast amounts of beer as fuel is as extinct as a that of a fag-smoking striker lighting a gasper at half-time during a football match - today’s top sportsmen are athletes through and through and they take their diets very seriously indeed. Which is why the Western Morning News found itself surrounded by half a dozen hungry but gentle giants in the big kitchen of a well known Devon gastropub the other day, watching as the head chef prepared some of the aforementioned rocket fuel.  Not that anything that propels any kind of machine could ever taste as good as the dishes which Matthew Mason, of the Jack In The Green, was putting together for the six Exeter Chiefs players and one hungry - but anywhere near as ravenous - journalist.  Matt had dreamed up some simple to prepare but utterly delicious recipes to show the young players just how easy it was to put together amazing home-cooked food without requiring even GCSE-level catering skills - and the Jack’s affable owner, Paul Parnell (who sponsors the Chief’s weekly Man of the Match award) kindly invited me along. Paul said: “Lots of your readers will be parents who have sporty kids at home who are preparing for some big match or other. They night be wondering what to cook for them - and Matt’s ideas will work well in any home kitchen. If it’s good enough for the Exeter Chiefs boys battling away in the Premiership, it’s good enough for anyone.” I’d like to bring you up to date with what’s happening at the Jack in the Green soon - but in the mean time here’s some information i’ve received about Matt’s new role at the Winslade Manor Restaurant and Bar. It was supposed to be opening its doors in time for Valentine’s day 2021 with Matt Mason at the helm, but of course that will be delayed because of the lockdowns. I am told: “The operations company Vida, which means life, is behind Exeter’s newest dining and wellbeing experience at Winslade Park, Clyst St Mary, and is headed up by co-founders, Joe Hammond (formerly of Woodbury Park Hotel, Golf & Country Club) and Tom Johnson (former England and Exeter Chief professional rugby player) with the support of Mark Edworthy and Paul Scantlebury of Burrington Estates. “The new head chef, Matt, is no stranger when it comes to building a legacy in the restaurant business. After 28 years at one of East Devon’s most loved restaurants, he joins the Vida Spaces team together with his wife Jo Mason (restaurant manager), to take on one of the most exciting roles of his career.   The blurb goes on… Born and raised in Mid Devon, Matt’s fascination with food came from growing up in a rural farming community, where many of his friends and neighbours farmed the land in which he spent most of his time. If not on the farm, Matt could be found at his parent’s allotment, growing and cultivating seasonal produce. Matt’s philosophy when it comes to cooking stems from these childhood experiences and can be seen throughout all his menus today.  After serving his apprenticeship under the tutelage of Shaun Hill at Gidleigh Park, Matt took the next step to running his own kitchen and donned his chef whites at the Jack in the Green in 1995. After just one year, Matt’s culinary expertise saw the pub achieve 2 AA rosettes - and was one of the first pubs to do so. From South West Chef of the Year to being invited to join the distinguished few into the Master Chefs of Great Britain, it’s not hard to see why Joe and Tom were keen for Matt to join their winning team. How does Matt feel about taking such a big leap into this brand new venture? “Joining the Vida team and being asked to lead the entire food offering at Winslade Park is a huge honour. Jo and I are immensely proud to have left a legacy at The Jack, and we bring our passion for creating memorable experiences for guests to Winslade Manor Restaurant. Starting with a complete blank canvas is every chef’s dream. From the design of the kitchen, to the creation of the menus and hand selecting everything from the crockery, linens and staff, we’ve had complete carte blanche throughout the entire process, with unprecedented support from the Viva team”, Matt explains. When it comes to selecting the perfect ingredients, Matt’s little black book of local suppliers is firmly staying with him. A loyal customer for almost three decades, the head chef will continue to support local businesses, such as Dart Fresh, Creedy Carver, Darts Farm, Flying Fish Seaford and Country Farm to name but a few, where quality, freshness and consistency are guaranteed. The dining experience at Winslade Manor Restaurant has been described as ‘casual elegant’ and will be nothing short of fabulous. Guests can expect wholesome local cuisine, bursting with seasonal flavours, that are not only pleasing to the palate but offer a visual reward,  complementing the whole dining experience.

One day a few years ago I experienced quite a weird and rather exciting coincidence - I’d driven the 100 miles from eastern Exmoor to Port Isaac early one morning in order to interview the famous, charming and highly talented chef Nathan Outlaw. The main reason for the journey was for us to talk about the forthcoming Cornish Food Festival, which used to be held in the middle of Truro each year - and hopefully will return one day in the future… Anyway, when I got there Nathan - whom I’d met several times before - said: “I expect you’ll be wanting to talk to me about the big award…” To which (being the useless idiot I am) I said: “What award?” With that he pulled out an envelope which had just arrived in the post. Inside was a letter informing Nathan that his restaurant had just been named the best in Britain. Here is the story I sat down and wrote there and then, sitting at the bar… A Cornish restaurant has just been named the best place to eat in the UK by the Good Food Guide. Restaurant Nathan Outlaw, in Port Isaac, topped many hundreds of other establishments to gain the prestigious award - and yesterday its owner was beaming with delight shortly after hearing the news.  “You can’t get any better - it’s crazy, we’re just a little 30 cover restaurant - so to sit at the very top, I can’t get my mind around it really,” said Nathan. “In total there are 100s of restaurants which are looked at by the Good Food Guide and they always compile a top 50, which is full of friends and people I know in the profession - so to be named number one… Well, it’s still sinking in.  “When I had my first restaurant here in Cornwall - it was only in 2003 that I opened the Black Pig in Rock - I couldn’t have dreamed that by the time I was 39 I’d be running the Good Food Guide’s best restaurant in Britain.” Speaking at a prearranged interview for the Western Morning News , Nathan was asked why he thought his restaurant had topped the British bill… “I think it’s partly have the combination we have here with the team. The key members have been working with me for over a decade and this has given the restaurant a certain amount of consistency you won’t find in many others,” he replied. “People come here and we recognise them and they get well looked after - we know what they want. So the hospitality side of it has a huge part to play. “With the food, we rely heavily on the amazing produce that we are lucky enough to get here. It’s quite a simple style of food - but I can assure you that the work behind what we do is huge. I have worked out that the chefs here spend 130 man-hours on prepping the food each week before we actually cook dishes to serve. “We open Wednesday to Saturday - but the chefs come in on Tuesday to start prepping. Why are they here that long? Because that is what it takes,” beamed the proud six-foot-something chef from under his red beard. He said that the Good Food Guide inspectors were not known to his staff - nor did any restaurant know when they would arrive.  “We haven’t a clue. They have inspectors, but they also take a lot of information from diners who write in. And the Good Food Guide has been going for 80 years - way longer than Michelin - so they really know what they are doing.” ( I’m a great fan of Nathan’s cookery books - like the ones above ) But for Nathan Outlaw, it’s the natural ingredients that come from Cornwall and the waters around the peninsula that are the real stars of the show.  “All the chefs here have a great respect for the ingredients,” he told me. “And that means - respect for the people who grow it or catch it. We are certainly not known for all these modern techniques you see in some top restaurants - essentially we are cooking to bring the best out of the amazing ingredients. And I consider we cook food properly - we let it sing on the plate,” said the affable chef who was being curiously humble for a man who just an hour before had been told his way the best restaurant in Britain. “The fish is always kind here and right now sardines are kicking in as is the mackerel. We are coming to the end of the lobster season, so now we are going to see the fabulous hen crabs coming in full of brown meat - which means full of flavour. The flat fish is good at moment - and soon we will get the mussels and oysters,” said the 39-year-old who looked as if he couldn’t wait to get his hands on the molluscs - or any other fine Cornish ingredient, come to that.

Continuing our series about talented chefs and the hospitality business here in the West Country - which needs all the help it can get in these tough times - we’re revisiting some of the articles Martin Hesp has written down the years. This one is about a particularly brilliant young chef, Hylton Espey. A couple of years ago I spent a day foraging on the Cornish beaches with Hylton, watching him cook back at the kitchen and eating his amazing food… There is so much you can learn from an enthusiastic, innovative and passionate chef. That is what I was thinking as I stood on a Cornish beach one day recently just 12 hours after I’d consumed a meal prepared by such a chap. Hylton Espey not only delighted me with the food on the plate at his Rastella Restaurant in Falmouth, which won a coveted third rosette at the exclusive AA Hospitality Awards - he later inspired my culinary ambitions as we took to the local shoreline on a foraging adventure to replenish his larder. I say all this because Hylton is young man who thinks outside the box - a habit which is not only appealing in a creative person, but which is essential in an industry where so many professionals play follow-the-leader. The Rastella is to be found at the Merchant’s Manor Hotel and Spa - an establishment which is, itself, thinking outside the box by reinventing the way it works and what it offers by upping its all-round game.  Hence the third rosette, which caused Hylton to comment: “I believe that what grows together, goes together. The location of the restaurant means we are within walking distance of perfect foraging spots where there are crystal clear rock pools brimming with life, sea cliffs abundant in green, hedgerows overladen with bounty and forests full of flavour. “Our team is young and we are excited to carry on pushing what our plates mean and the story they tell our diners.” Having read this I thought I’d better take up the invitation to go and meet the young South African. I was intrigued to learn more about his “what grows together, goes together” philosophy and see where such an adventure has taken him. One answer is a farm on the coast near Porthleven, where he was buying fresh grass-fed lamb. Hylton knew about the grasses the sheep were eating, but he was also interested in the natural plants were growing in the field boundaries and beyond. This exploration not only resulted in him gathering some edible wild plants, but also took him down to the nearby beach where he foraged for seaweed.  Then he got to thinking about the crabs that would undoubtedly be living in the waters just off the beach - and this eventually led to the creation of a truly spectacular dish that utilises Cornish coastal lamb and local crabmeat.  Lamb and crab? No, neither had I heard of the combination - but the way Hylton prepares it, the dish is a surf-n-turf combo made in coastal heaven. The sweet saltiness of a little crabmeat really does sing with the sweet saltiness of the lamb - and both are ably aided and abetted by the wild coastal vegetables and the seaweeds which adorn the plate.  “Originally we served it with clams. Cockles and lamb. We tried it out on a few guests, but then I thought about the crab pots right there next to the farm,” Hylton told me as we walked and foraged. “The dish is underlined by something called ‘bofga’, which is something we’ve invented at Rastella. A burned onion, fermented garlic aioli. The flavours are phenomenal and it works with everything - but the best thing it pairs with is actually crab.  “So I thought - OK, I’m going to take this crab, I’m going to mix it with some bofga, put some on the plate, get this really good Cornish lamb - which is not quite like saltmarsh lamb but which has amazing clean flavours from being fed this grass diet - and then, to tie it all together, I’m going to throw in a bit of seaweed and some sea vegetables.  “It’s a dish I told no one about at work,” he shrugged. “I kind of put it together, I ate it, I thought this is amazing. And then I just put a plate of it down and called everyone around to taste. If I told people what I was going to do, they’d have thought I was crazy - which tends to happen now and again anyway. “But the whole idea and the inspiration comes from that farm and where it is. And the feedback we get about that dish is phenomenal. But the thing for me is - I didn’t just sit down and think about a whacky new lamb dish. It came together organically. It came together because of the location of the farm, the ingredients there - and then what’s in season at that time. That one really is one of my favourites.  “We are trying to use as much of the whole animal as possible,” Hylton continued. “We want to reduce waste. We take off the rump, the loin and we French de-bone the leg because you end up with cuts that are just as tender as the loin. So the tender piece is actually out of the leg. Then we take the breast and the shoulder and trimmings and we place that on a bed of hay from the lamb farm and we put it inside our wood-fired oven and we slow roast that until it’s really tender.  “So the lamb is Cornish, we season it with Cornish sea-salt for the Lizard which we can just make out in the mist. Then hay from the farm. Then it comes out - we flake it down, we make a sauce from the bones, then we wrap hot in a crepinette to make it look almost like a faggot. We glaze with a bit of jus.  “Then we have the loin which we cook, perfectly, and only with salt. It has a quick roll across the charcoal grill, basted with butter. Then we have the white crab which we steam and mix with bofga - and then I rolled it up inside a nasturtium leaf. There’s carrageen (seaweed), the smell of which is of the pure sea. So when you steam it, it breaks down and is really soft and has a real sea aroma. We also had some rock samphire and sea beet, which we will walk past now…  “All these are things within half a mile of the restaurant,” grinned Hylton. “The dish is a true a true interpretation of what grows together, goes together…” He’s correct. That is exactly what it is. And here we are talking about a talented young chef and we’ve only touched up just one of his signature dishes.  So you see what I mean about being inspirational.  And if you want to taste Hylton’s food check out https://merchantsmanor.com/food-and-drink/rastella/

They say necessity is the mother of invention, and it is - the only problem is that inventions don’t always work. That is what I was thinking as I peered down at my mess of a dinner. What had made me think that cooking pizzas in an air-fryer would be a good idea? I don’t know about fellow home-cooks, but there has been a great deal of necessity-is-mother-of-invention syndrome going on in the Hesp kitchen over recent months.  To take just one example: without a bit of experimentation, how else are you going to make frozen vegetables taste good and interesting? Frozen meat? No problem. Same with frozen fish, as long as it’s not been in the ice too long. Morrisons (where I get my Covid-safe “click and collect”) does a great new line in various frozen shellfish - and they’re good too as long as your remember to thaw and clean out the sand from the razor clams. But veg is another matter.  Non-frozen veg has an inherent freshness which can break down very rapidly for various scientific reasons that I only just understand. Something to do with sugars turning to starches.   The frozen pea, of course, represents the one outstanding exception. It’s one of the best industrially processed foods ever invented. But the likes of broccoli or Brussel sprouts straight from the freezer can leave a lot to be desired. And if a pea can be so good, why can’t a fresh frozen broad bean? No matter how posh the brand, they just aren’t ever as good as the real thing from the garden.  Which is where necessity being the mother of invention comes in. If you whizz up frozen broccoli with some stilton to make a warming winter soup, for example, it works just as well as a handful fresh florets. If you sit for hours de-skinning each and every baby broad bean, the little green bombs you’ll reveal are pretty good. My “invention” of the week was a salad made from thinly sliced but tired looking oranges, some green olives from a can and a few bits of crumbled feta. The reason I’m “making do” with whatever comes to hand is because Covid has come to our village. Indeed, you may have seen in the regional news that West Somerset (where I live) tops the West Country infection rate day after day - so I’m in no hurry to leave my rural home, preferring instead to do a “click and collect” once every couple of weeks.  For years as a roving journalist my dietary modus operandi was based on whatever I’d bought in the past day or two. If I’d been near a fishing harbour, we’d have fresh seafood, if I’d been to some West Country market town where I knew a good traditional butcher, we’d have meat, if I’d spotted some beautiful fresh picked cauliflowers on a Cornish farm gate stall… You get the picture. It was all about: what’s new, what’s in season, what’s good? Now it’s reduced to clicking items on a screen and picking them up once a fortnight in a supermarket carpark. Just about as Covid-secure as you can get and we get fed - so I’m not complaining. But it’s not the ideal way to live. It means the home-cook has to make up for freshness or for the lack of brilliant ingredients by being inventive. And, as I’ve mentioned, it doesn’t always work.   I was using my own sourdough base to make the pizzas and one thing about sourdough is that it benefits from a high heat when cooking. Our domestic fan oven doesn’t really cut the mustard and on a stormy night I didn’t want to go outdoors and light the wood-fired Morso oven just to make a couple of small pizzas.  As a proud owner on an appliance called an Instant Pot Duo , I began to wonder about its air-fryer facility. The remarkable machine is both a pressure cooker and an air-fryer, depending on which lid you use - and I know the latter reaches very hot temperatures because it’ll cook crispy roast potatoes in 20 minutes. So why not bung in a small pizza and see what happens?  I still don’t know why it was a failure. Maybe my homemade dough wasn’t up to the job or perhaps the heat inside an air-fryer circulates in some way I had not imagined. Whatever the reason, the results represented the worst of pizza evils: underside done nicely to a crisp, but topping more of a floury puddle where it sank into uncooked dough. Disappointing. But at least during lockdown we have time to mess around and experiment with food. There are recipes for air-fryer pizzas on the Internet, so it must be possible - next time I’ll try a conventional base rather than sourdough. Because, as most home-cooks know, the wild and moody sourdough is a difficult beast to tame. Wild: because it relies on natural yeasts that happen to be floating around in your location. Moody: because those wild yeasts do what they want, rather than what some industrial chemist has designed them to do.  Here again, though, the pandemic has provided a slight silver lining. Because home-bakers have time to experiment with sourdough starters and the like. A couple of years ago I was writing in these pages about my sourdough failures - now, countless loaves later, I am celebrating success.  We haven’t bought bread from a shop for six months. The loaves aren’t going to win any baking competitions, specially not in the looks-department - but I have found a way of making sourdough work time and time again and the bread is delicious.  Who cares what it looks like? I’m not exactly serving countless guests. And I do know exactly what has gone into each loaf - ie Matthews Cotswold Flour , filtered water a pinch of Cornish sea salt, and that is it.  I am certain that a sourdough experts like Andy Tyrrell, who used to be head chef at River Cottage and who has taught special bread classes at the excellent Lark’s Live online cookery school, would not exactly approve of my methods, but they work for me. Lockdown has allowed me the time to make many tweaks and changes and generally (but not always) each loaf has been better than the last. The truth is, though, that without the rigours enforced by staying at home, I probably wouldn’t have bothered to keep on plugging away.  Several BBC Radio news programmes have been asking listeners to name things which have brightened up their days during these dark months - and I reckon there must be tens of thousands of home-cooks out there who’ll say that having time to mess about in the kitchen has taught them all sorts of new skills, alongside pitfalls they must avoid. Which, surely, has to be a ray of sunshine in a hungry world…  FOOD NEWS Entries are now open for the 2021 Food Drink Devon Awards which celebrate the county’s most respected, influential and passionate artisan producers and establishments.  Covering food production, preparation, retailing, cooking and service, the awards honour businesses demonstrating a commitment to quality, sustainability, provenance, excellent customer service and support for their local communities and other local businesses.  Categories include the ‘Producer Awards’ alongside ‘Food Product of the Year' and 'Drink Product of the Year'.   The retail awards include 'Best Retailer’ and ‘Best Online Retailer’, while the highly contested hospitality section covers ‘Best Fine Dining Restaurant’, ‘Best Restaurant’, ‘Best Pub’, ‘Best Bar or Bistro’, ‘Best Café or Tearoom’ and ‘Best Takeaway or Street Food’. Barbara King, chair of Food Drink Devon says: “Devon boasts so many dynamic and innovative local producers and purveyors. The awards give us the opportunity to recognise their success and contributions to the vibrant food and drink industry.  We are proud to champion the county’s most esteemed and dedicated artisan producers and establishments and constantly impressed by the number and standard of entries.” The awards continue to grow, with 2020 recording a high number of entries despite the year's difficult conditions. Each year judging is carried out by a panel of independent and unbiased experts including a number of celebrated names from the region.  All results and winners are verified by an independent adjudicator, with entrants receiving the opportunity to benefit from invaluable product feedback provided by the panel.   This year’s winners are due to be announced at an awards' ceremony on Monday 4th October 2021. For more information visit www.foodanddrinkdevon.co.uk .  To enter the awards contact Ali Neagle on 07789 666064 or email admin@fooddrinkdevon.co.uk .