
Lamb and Mint Pasty at the Cornish Pasty Co. -- a yummy blend of lamb, potatoes, rutabaga, onion, and fresh mint, with a side of red wine gravy.
Being a native Michigander, I’m probably among the minority of Americans who has actually known what a pasty is for years now, having been dragged along as a youngster on more than one family camping trip to the Upper Peninsula’s “Copper Country.” Many a Cornish miner migrated here back in the mid-19th century, when tin mining in Cornwall began to fail, and they brought not only their expertise, but a hearty dish typically consisting of beef, potato, swede, and onion, seasoned with salt and pepper, all wrapped in pastry, folded into a half-moon shape, with edges crimped to seal the goodness inside, and baked to a golden brown. Because they spent all day underground, miners’ wives and mothers would send them off to work with a hot pasty wrapped in paper, to be enjoyed either warm or cold in the depths of the mine for lunch. The pasty still reigns supreme in the “U.P.,” and I certainly recall my first taste of one, thinking it rather bland, boring, and stodgy.
I sampled my very first “authentic” pasty (it’s pronounced “PASS-tee,” by the way, not like the “paste-y” of stripper fame) in Truro, Cornwall, in the early 1990s, when I regularly visited the southern part of the United Kingdom, where my two stepsons lived at the time. Considerably more tasty than the one I recalled from my childhood, I nevertheless regarded it as a British “fast food” more than a gourmet delight, to say the least.
I never would have imagined that some two decades later, I would be extolling the delights of the Cornish pasty thanks to the culinary skills of Cornishman Dean Thomas, who has truly taken the common pasty to the level of an art form, and who, fortunately for me, decided to establish his Cornish Pasty Co. right here in the Valley. Not surprisingly, Dean grew up eating pasties several times a week, whether they were made by the local bakers, his mother, or his grandmother. He’s obviously taken the very best of what he learned from them and added his own creativity, expanding the idea of what should go inside a pasty to another realm.

Rosemary Chicken Pasty: a delectable mix of marinated chicken breast, roasted red potatoes, brie, roasted red peppers, and fresh rosemary, served with a side of mustard cream.
Of course, the traditional pasty, known as The Oggie, made of steak, potatoes, onion, and swede (rutabaga) served with a side of red wine gravy or ketchup, is foremost on the menu, but when he started this venture in 2005, Dean wisely realized Americans like choice, and choice he has given us. “Signature Pasties” include the Lamb and Mint (one of my favorites), Bangers and Mash, Shepherd’s Pie, The Mexican, Cheese Steak, and even, as I noted with a smile, The Royale With Cheese (no doubt a nod to the classic line from the movie Pulp Fiction); “Premium Pasties” range from Carne Adovada, Chicken Tikka Masala, Lovely Bit a Salmon, Peppered Steak, and the Chicken Greek to Pesto Chicken, The Pilgrim (featuring turkey and stuffing, naturally), Rosemary Chicken or Steak, and The Reuben. Each pasty is about one pound of pure comfort, enveloped by a delicious, flaky, golden pastry and served with a side of sauce and nothing else (nothing else is needed, these are so filling). If you are really hungry, you can order sides like garlic mashed potatoes, hand-cut British-style “chips” (that’s fries to us Yanks), or “mushy peas,” a British pub fare staple (and one that I’ve never, frankly, understood or cared for). But here’s the real bonus: there’s nothing over $9.50 on the menu!

The cozy, pub-like interior of the Cornish Pasty Co.'s original location at University and Hardy in Tempe.
The original Cornish Pasty Co. is a narrow, dark, cozy, pub-ish kind of place with a long bar and a few small tables, tucked away in a little strip mall at the northeast corner of University and Hardy in Tempe; the Mesa location at the southeast corner of Dobson and Guadalupe (opened in 2009) is a bit larger, lighter, and airier. Both venues are open seven days a week for lunch and dinner, feature full bars, and equally pack in the crowds: plan your meal time wisely, and take advantage of their happy hour specials from 3 to 6 p.m. and 10 p.m. until close, every day.
Trust me—try this place at least once, and you’ll never refer to British food as “stodgy” ever again!

