Ashburton action 1

COHO. One cold, damp day earlier in the week we paid a second visit to Whistley Hill (see reference 1 for the first), to come across the operation illustrated, with the illustration catching nothing of the cold and the damp, which seems to have been filtered out.

An operation which looked properly rural. I was taking a closer look at the sign at the entrance when the owner popped up, a large muscular chap in his shirt sleeves all set to make an issue of the fact that I was standing on his land with a camera, that is to say my telephone. But he calmed down quickly enough and we had a pleasant chat about the suburban logging business. He told me that the 'DDA' of his sign was not any kind of qualification, but rather stood for 'deals in direct action', direct action which was needed to deal with the large numbers of people, some gypsies, who saw fit to poke around in his yard. He also touched upon the amount of wedge to be found on the veggies of Ashburton, down the hill. I wondered afterwards whether his propensity for direct action had more to do with the marginal legality of his operation, occupying a small corner of a field, rather than trespass. Was logging just a cover for a still?

Back down in Ashburton, I was pleased to find that the ladies' bakery was still up and running and where I managed to get into a muddle with the very young lady serving. There was a batch of flat, round & brown loaves in the window and asking what they were, I was told that they were for caster. I persisted, getting more for caster. Who or what is caster? Was it forecaster? I tried hard to work out what she was on about, eventually getting to foccacia. Which turned out to be absolutely ideal for a picnic as it needed nothing added, it having been oiled it when it came out of the oven. I also took a couple of small white tins, reminding us what real white bread tasted like - the like of which I completely failed to make when I was trying a couple of years or so ago - and now having settled for a healthy brown. See in and around reference 2, from April.

Butcher still up and running with a fine bit of rolled brisket in the window. Sadly I had to turn it up in favour of some smoked streaky for the lentil soup. A competitor, probably more foodie flavoured, probably with more than a touch of the old Etonian rhubarb grower (aka Fearnley-Whittingstall) about the place, is about to open a few yards down the road, in the center of town, so will shall see whether the town can carry two butchers.

We even indulged in some fast food in the form of boxed pasties from Spar. Which served well enough served with potatoes and cabbage, both boiled. Washed down with a drop of Villa Maria Gold Label brought down from Epsom. With thanks to a bar maid at the Tooting Wetherspoon's for introducing me to the brand.

PS: COHO for where we were staying and which might prove an aid to retrieval in the weeks to come.

Reference 1: http://www.psmv2.blogspot.co.uk/2015/11/the-real-thing.html.

Reference 2: http://psmv2.blogspot.co.uk/2015/04/gastronomic-affairs.html.