From Cornwall to Grass Valley
Nobody in Jenna’s family can make just one pasty. Making them has always meant flour on the counters, potatoes to slice, stories to tell and everyone finding a job in the kitchen.
The tradition began with Jenna’s Cornish great-grandparents and the journey they made to California’s gold country.
Jenna’s great-grandfather left Cornwall to work in the gold mines of Grass Valley. Each day, her great-grandmother made him a fresh pasty. Coffee sat in the bottom of his lunch tin, with the newspaper-wrapped pasty above it; each helped keep the other warm until his break underground.
Her great-grandmother would not write the recipe down or formally teach it. Jenna’s mother rose early whenever she visited, watched closely and eventually earned a place helping beside her. Persistence preserved what instructions never could.
Determined that the tradition would not skip another generation, Jenna’s mother made pasty day a family event. Potatoes were sliced paper-thin, meat was cubed, dough was rolled and each person graduated to a new task.
As a left-hander, Jenna struggled to copy her mother’s right-handed crimp. Her mother told her to close her eyes and follow the rhythm: “Pinch and turn, pinch and turn.” When Jenna looked, the edge matched Great-Grandma Johns’ exactly. Today, Jenna is the only person in the family who buttons them that way.
Now the story continues from Cornwall to Grass Valley, Petaluma and beyond. Traditions survive through stories, shared meals and the food we make for people we care about.
“It is my hope that some of the love, laughter and memories that filled our kitchen might find their way into yours.”
