Folklore: The Humble Pie

With their newly won Protected Geographical Status, the name of the Cornish pasty can no longer be taken in vain.

The humble Cornish pasty has achieved European status, a sort of appellation d'origine contrôlée to protect regional food specialities. This little Cornish delicacy now joins the rarified ranks of champagne, gorgonzola and parmesan-reggiano.

If I was a Cornish nationalist I'd be out there waving St Piran's flag, singing verses from Trelawny (…a good sword and a trusty hand, a faithful heart and true, King James's men shall understand, what Cornish lads can do…). I'm not. But I do have an abode in Devon (I'm going to class myself as a Cornish neighbour), so it's good to know that my neighbouring county finally has the monopoly on the denomination of their exquisite regional dish. For nine years the Cornish Pasty Association has fought for Protected Geographical Indication (PGI) status. Now, hurrah, only pasties made in Cornwall can claim a Cornish identity.

Under EU law, PGI foods must be "produced or processed or prepared within the geographical area". So no more copy-cat Cornish pasties made in, I don't know, London, or Leeds, or even Le Havre. No more nonsense at the British Pie Awards, either (there was a bit of an outcry from the Cornish camp, when Chunk, a pie-maker from Devon, won first prize in the Cornish pasty category in 2009). And the directive doesn't stop at the pasty's origins. Like Swaledale cheese, Melton Mowbray Pork Pies or Arbroath smokies (all British foods with PGI status) there are certain qualities, traditions, to uphold.

Now, I do like a good pasty, I really do. I've decided I'm genetically programmed to sniff one out the moment I get within a mile or two of, say, Bodmin Moor. And it's kind of true. As soon as I cross the border (welcome to Kernow, goodbye Devon), I get an itch, a hunger for a hot pasty.