Darzet

Originally, I hail from Dorset, or Darzet as the locals would say. I miss it, sometimes, not often, just sometimes.

The county has a magnificent coastline, steep chalky cliffs, stunning beaches, picturesque harbours (Poole harbour is the second largest natural harbour in the world after Sydney, Australia) and bays, rolling hills and valleys, choc full of wild flowers and hedgerow fodder. You'll find secluded wee villages full of locals who you'll have trouble understanding, historic towns such as Sherborne, Christchurch, Shaftesbury, Dorchester, Bridport, Wimborne, Corfe and Blandford.

I come from Bournemouth, a Victorian town with no history to speak of, but a few miles out of the town and one is immersed in legend, history - and food! As with anywhere else, the geography of Dorset is reflected in the food eaten. There's plenty of good pasture, so don't look too far for the best cream tea in the world. Dorset clotted cream is perhaps the best you'll find in the United Kingdom. I'm not just saying that because it's my county of birth, I've tasted plenty of clotted cream and never found better, anywhere outside of the county. Take a trip to Shaftesbury, find the cafe at the top of Gold Hill (where the infamous Hovis add - the boy on the bike was filmed) and order a cream tea. You'll think you've died and gone to heaven.

If you like fish, take a visit to Poole Harbour where fishermen land their catch and sell directly from their boats. It's a site rarely seen these days. You can find crabs, scallops, all kinds of other shell fish, haddock, red and grey mullet, mackerel, turbot and sea bream.

For the Hyacinth Buckets out there, a trip on the Swanage Steam Railway is advised. I've never been on it, but I understand they do a wine and dine evening on the train during the summer months and the food is first class.

Of course, the countryside boasts an abundance of produce. In the summer, you'll find the glut of lettuce is turned into soup (really, it's delicious) and by autumn the ubiquitous apple is all around. Lots of them are turned into cider, but with the approach of autumn, every tea-time table will be dressed with a Dorset Apple Cake. Variety among type is alarming, everyone has their own secret recipe. Mine's not so secret:

225g/8oz eating apples
100g/4oz unsalted butter
100g/4oz golden caster sugar
1 egg
1 tablespoon of pure vanilla extract (NOT essence)
225g/8oz plain flour
25g/1oz cornflour
1.5 (one and a half) teaspoons of baking powder
Pinch of salt
Juice and zest of half a lemon
Handful of sultanas
1 teaspoon cinnamon

Peel and core the apples, slice (though not too thinly) and place in a bowl with the juice and zest of the lemon.

Cream together the butter and sugar, then add the egg and beat until incorporated. Next add the lemon juice from the apples and beat again.

Sieve together the flour, cornflour, salt, cinnamon and baking powder and then sieve into the creamed mixture, folding everything together.

Next, add the sultanas, apple, zest and vanilla extract. Fold everything together and bake in a 20cm/8 inch round cake tin at 180C/350F/Gas 4 for 50 minutes to an hour until done.

Serve warm - not hot - at teatime along with your other favourites.

Another of my favourite Dorset foods is the Dorset Knob. Fancy a Dorset knob? Just follow any white bread recipe, but replace an eighth of the water or milk with apple juice. Make sure to use butter and definitely not margarine! Your finished rolls should be somewhere between the size of a golf ball and a tennis ball, so size your unleavened dough accordingly. Once the bread is done, turn the oven out, but leave the rolls in the cooling oven overnight until they dry out completely and become crisp. Serve with Dorset Blue Vinney cheese and some old Dorset ale! Delicious!

Oh, one thing. There's been debate for an eternity as to whether you chould put the clotted cream on the scone first or the jam. I'd say put the cream on first. If ever you've tried spreading the thick mass of the cream on top of flowing jam, you'll know what I mean: bloody mess.

I feel like Delia Smith now, very saintly, motherly, yet virginal. I'll have to do something about it. I think it's time for a bedtime fag. I may also fart.