Being born a Cornishman I remember my father recounting a somewhat apocryphal tale of a grockle* visiting a pub and asking for chips (fries) with his pasty. The landlord looked at him somewhat aghast and asked him if he was sure? The tourist replies that he was hungry and always has chips with his pasty back home. A little while later the landlord returns with the customers lunch. A small crowd of locals had now appeared as the customer is presented with a a standard 12 inch long pasty occupying the whole plate and a basket of chips. Very sheepishly the customer eats the pasty and eventually the chips, pays and then proceeds to very slowly walk out moaning and groaning.
* Cornish (derogatory) term for a tourist
For those wanting to know the proper Cornish recipe it is simply pastry (rough puff style typically) and declining quantities of potato (shredded), swede (also shredded) and onion (shredded again). Topped with beef (preferably skirt) and seasoned with a little salt and pepper. The pastry is then folded up over the filling and crimped. In the oven for about an hour (for a proper sized pasty)
I have never sat down and worked it out but those bog old handmade pasties must be 2000 calories minimum, certainly it's a struggle to eat anything else... Perfect if you have to spend hours down a mine though.
The crimp was originally not eaten as the miners would want to avoid eating the toxic metals, but those knurls of pastry are one of my favourite things.
Such a shame most pasties sold now are tiny, over seasoned and full of rubbish meat.