Nick Barclay's Grand Hotel

D Magazine, Jun 01, 2002 by Nichols, Nancy

I also found foodie heaven. The small shops of Looe are brimming with locally produced traditional foods, and samples are readily available. I made a lunch of a couple of slices of Cornish yarg - a firm, buttery cheese scented from the nettle leaves wrapped around the mold - stuffed into a bun fresh from a bakery's oven.

Dodging the diving sea gulls, I walked along the sandy beach and past the seafood market, where lobsters, crabs, mackerel, and sole were displayed on ice. I crossed the bridge that divides East Looe (the money side) from West Looe (the sunny side) and wandered up the steep cliffs as I licked a cone of rich Cornish ice cream.

I managed to get back to East Looe in time for tea at the Golden Guinea, a small eatery constructed in 1632. Under the wooden-beamed ceiling (mind your head!), I had my first formal Cornish tea - a steaming pot of the local brew accompanied by two fist-sized scones and ramekins of fresh jams and clotted cream - the thick "double double" delicacy brought tears to my eyes.

On my way back up the hill to The Barclay House, I dashed into a bakery to pick up a little something for dinner: a meat and potato-stuffed pasty, the food most often associated with Cornwall. Originally baked as an all-in-one meal for the miners to take to the depths of the mine, the inceptive pasty had a savory filling on one end and a sweet one at the other. The exterior crust was crimped along the edges to make it easy for the miner to hold with arsenic-stained hands. Come to think of it, the pasty might be the original convenience food.

Look out, Nick. The McPasty could be sold under the Golden Arches soon.