Devizes Terry and Mason's Great Food Trip

It's a fairly rare thing to see a scarecrow outside a pub.

Is that a sign that they don't want us to go in there?

I don't know but he's very similar to your dress sense.

He's got a natural grace, there's no question of that.

-I've got to go and wee, Tel.

-Have you?

I'm a man of iron in this regard.

'It's taken 50 years in broadcasting,

'but I've finally cracked it.

'The chance to meander around the country, see the sights,

'meet the people and, yes, eat and drink.'

Is melt in the mouth a suitable phrase.

'I've hailed a cab with one of London's finest cabbies,

'Mason McQueen, to steer me around Britain's highways and byways.'

-I'm looking forward to a decent meal, are you?

-Oh, I'm starving.

I can't wait, Tel.

'Our route has been mapped out by an adventurous gourmand,

'Samuel Chamberlain, in his book British Bouquet.

'Almost 60 years later, we're following in his footsteps...'

I'll do all the work, Tel.

'..to seek out weird and wonderful regional British cuisine

'and discover how our tastes have changed over the years.'

Do it right, son.

Oh, oh, oh!

-What's that?

-A nice bit of tongue in there.

-Tongue.

A bit of tongue? Was it his tongue?

Today, me hearties, we're in the heart of Wiltshire, in Devizes.

So crammed full of culinary curiosities,

I honestly don't know how we're going to fit it all in.

Devizes is famous for its limericks. Would you like to hear a little...?

I'd love to hear one, Tel.

There was a young man of Devizes,

Whose ears were of different sizes. One was so small,

It was no use at all,

But the other won several prizes.

Very good. Very good. I like that.

Devizes takes its rather curious name from the Latin word divisas,

meaning boundaries, because it was built on the edge of three parishes.

There's been a market here since the 12th century,

so it's about due a visit from me and Mason.

-I love these markets.

-Good morning, gentlemen.

-Good morning, sir.

Every Thursday, the square is crowned with local food producers

and their wares.

Come on! We've the mush to make you rush today!

In my view, a market's the perfect place to start

a culinary investigation into the tastes and flavours that make a town tick.

Standby, Devizes. We're going in.

-Morning.

-Morning.

-Good morning, Sir Terry. How are you?

-I'm bearing up, thank you.

-Very good.

I'm waiting for the sun to shine. What have you got here?

-Do you like mango chutney?

-Do you know, I never eat anything else.

SHE LAUGHS

This is different because it's in slices, not in bits.

Do you know, already I'm really glad that we came and stopped here.

Although it's a small town with a population of 12,000,

Devizes' market is one of the largest in the West Country,

giving the five local supermarkets a good run for their money.

How long is it since you seen a goose egg?

I've never seen a goose egg.

They've only just come back in.

Hey!

-That's the size, innit?

-It is.

-That's a nice size egg.

-You want an ostrich egg is what you want.

-You don't do ostrich eggs!

We can get them but they're £25 each.

You've come right out your shell, ain't ya?

These days, Wiltshire is most famous for its pig products,

but 100 years ago, it was equally renowned

for its many different cheeses.

One, the Wiltshire Loaf, had completely disappeared

until nine years ago, when an enterprising dairy maid stumbled

across an old recipe and decided to bring it back from the dead.

And what's a Wiltshire Loaf taste like? Is it crumbly, is it...?

-Do you want to try?

-Yeah, go one. You don't give away a lot, do you?

SHE LAUGHS

-This is delicious.

-Thank you.

-It's very...

-very flavoursome, very sharp.

-Yes.

This is the traditional Wiltshire cheese that

my great-grandfather used to make. It stopped being made in Wiltshire.

A lot of our regional cheeses did die out,

but when I started cheese-making, I love looking back to the past

and this is the cheese that my great-grandfather would've made.

Where did you get the recipe for it?

On the wall in the Lackham Agricultural College Museum.

-You took it from there?

-Yes, yeah.

-Such work here.

You've obviously revived the tradition.

I don't understand why there isn't a plaque to you...

-somewhere on a wall in Devizes.

-SHE LAUGHS

Maybe one day.

Back in the far-flung '60s, this market,

mainly a place for local farmers to buy and sell livestock.

After they'd concluded their business, they congregate

across the road in The Bear Hotel for much-needed refreshment.

Our culinary guide Sam Chamberlain stayed here too, soaked up

the atmosphere and where the great man leads, we must follow.

-Cheers, Tel.

-After you, sir, senior man.

Chamberlain called The Bear a "good, honest country hostelry."

Can't see any cattle farmer, but a group of locals who meet here

every week for breakfast are carrying on the noble tradition.

-Good morning, good morning.

-Good morning.

-The breakfast club.

So, reading old Chamberlain's book,

he says when he came down here, the place was full of farmers

and drovers and they were drinking their pints and smoking their pipes.

Now, you're all far too young to remember anything like that...

aren't you? You remember it? So, tell me about it.

My father was a farmer, as you say.

Instead of the flat cap, he had the trilby and the pipe.

And he'd be in here drinking the pint?

He'd be here after the market had closed.

He would be in here and the table would be laid out,

right across there, for everything

you could think of in the way of farmers' eating - ham, whatever.

And I was a little schoolgirl at the time

and he used to come out to the car and get me in here, and I used to

be able to go along that table and choose what I wanted to eat.

In them days, children weren't allowed in pubs

and I used to have to go back out to the car,

my glass of orange squash and my goodies and eat.

So, it was here at The Bear that old Sam Chamberlain sat down to

what he described as his "best breakfast of the summer."

He speaks lovingly of piping hot eggs, lean bacon, tender toast.

I prefer mine crisp.

Service, please!

'Quick, Mason, to the dining room!

'Time to get our knees under the table

'and hear a bit more about this great British institution.'

Well, the English breakfast -

what we're eating is a centuries-old tradition, part of our culture,

has been for a long, long time, ever since the days of the gentry,

landowners, and for them,

breakfast was a hugely important social event before a hunt,

before the day began,

so they used to display the wealth of their estates,

the produce that came from their estates in the breakfast feast.

It was a spread they put on for their guests.

Over the years, the fry-up gradually filtered down from the fine folk

to the rest of us and by 1956,

half of all adults started the day with a cooked breakfast.

But a mere 20 years after that, the figure had halved

as we developed a liking for foreign foods like croissants and muesli,

and the old full English was relegated to being a weekend treat.

So, Guise, in '62, when Chamberlain came to The Bear,

would it have been the same breakfast? Not, literally, this one.

I think back in those days they had more ingredients to it.

There would've been some fried bread,

there might have been a pork pie down there too, possibly some liver.

But they wouldn't have had baked beans all over their plate.

No, they didn't have baked beans. They would've had a form of beans.

There's nothing wrong with baked beans.

There's more wrong with that black pudding.

There is nothing wrong with a baked bean,

but it shouldn't be on your breakfast plate.

-So, Mason, another lovely day in paradise.

-Absolutely, Terry.

-Look at it, it's beautiful. Sun's out.

-And of course bacon.

Bacon, pigs - that appears to be the main selling point.

Order of the day, meeting a pig farmer.

To get the full picture of a region's food story,

you need to go back to the land.

Devizes is surrounded by wide, chalky pastures

where pigs have rootled and grazed since the Bronze Age.

-Ah, Mason, the glories of Wiltshire.

-Look at this place, Terry.

-Beautiful.

-It's not the scenery, it's the pigs.

The pigs are Wiltshire's glory, you know?

Wiltshire bacon, Wiltshire ham, far famed, far famed.

-Oh, look, I think he recognises you.

-MASON LAUGHS

At this point, dear viewer, those of you of a sensitive disposition

should perhaps leave the room.

The next phase of our food journey does get a bit close to the bone.

Here on Sandridge Farm,

the Keen family have been raising pigs for generations.

Have you ever seen so much dead meat in all your life?

It's like a spare parts for a pig factory, innit?

Unfortunately for pigs, but I just love my ham, you know?

Well, if you didn't eat it, they wouldn't be grown.

That's a nice way of looking at it, Rodge.

None of this pork is going to be sold fresh.

Instead, it'll undergo a process known as the Wiltshire cure,

which emerged in the 19th century when a butcher discovered

that by storing meat in a cold room,

you could cut down on the salt needed to preserve it,

producing a milder, sweeter rasher for your plate.

This is what we call a brining tank

and this is the heart of what makes proper Wiltshire bacon,

so the pig, which at this moment is still considered to be pork,

will gradually over the course of the next four, five days

take up this brine, which is a living culture. By allowing it

to take up brine naturally, you don't get the excessive amount

of water that you sometimes get. In a factory environment,

they're what you call multi-needle injection pumped,

where they want to cure it much quicker than we do

and, therefore, in order to get the brine into the centre

of the meat, into that big block, they pump it in with a needle.

Which is all very well, but why am I wearing this ridiculous outfit?

Well, we do have to comply with all the regulations that are about.

I wasn't going to dive into the brine.

'Besides, I haven't brought my budgie smugglers.'

Once all this pork has taken the cure,

it's removed from the tank before moving onto the next process.

We're going into the smoker.

I mean, we sell more...a higher percentage smoked bacon

probably than anybody else.

We still use the traditional method - oak and beech sawdust,

-so it's like a little forest fire, isn't it?

-Yeah.

-It's clearing my sinuses perfectly.

-Absolutely, yes.

TERRY INHALES AND EXHALES

-I think we'll let Mason carry something out a minute now.

-Will we?

-Good man, Mason!

-Am I?

Not a lot of people like doing this job, so we'll get...

-While he's here.

-He loves it!

-Never enter a burning building.

What one's coming out, any one?

-Well, whichever meat takes your fancy.

-I won't bother, lads.

I'll just watch you, if I may, and encourage you.

Before we leave,

we receive probably the best invitation I've had all year.

Rosemary, Roger's wife, has prepared a small tasting menu

of cured pork dishes for our delectation.

So, this is Wiltshire cure.

Wiltshire cure and then smoked for two days, over oak and beech.

-You've got cloves on this.

-Yes, cloves and apricots and brown sugar.

I can't keep my hands off it. Is that too big for me?

-Oh, I'd say not for your mouth.

-Will I be able to eat that?

Do you know? I love a bit of fat.

-Do you like fat?

-No. I like the lean bit.

-But it's the fat that gives the flavour.

-Absolutely.

Fats take up flavour. I don't worry about eating fat at all.

My father lived till he was 95 and he had cream in his tea every day

and we had rib of beef every Sunday.

But why do they always say, Roger,

-whatever is really nice is bad for you?

-Well, there we are.

-Jealously, I suppose.

-Yes.

-But I can't get enough of this.

-This is lovely, Rosemary. Absolutely lovely.

-Have a bit more.

-What do you think of Devizes?

-I like it. I like the market square.

It's very... It's busy.

These Wiltshire towns are lovely, but the only thing I have

against them is they're slaves to roundabouts.

Oh, don't you worry yourself sitting there, relaxed in the back.

-Leave that to me.

-I'm just thinking of you, Mason. Always considerate.

If I have a fault, I'm too considerate.

THEY LAUGH

Like the galloping gourmets that we are,

we've rushed back to town on the trail of a great culinary mystery.

Devices cheesecake was made famous in the 18th century

when Jane Austen sampled it and gave it her seal of approval,

but in 1982, the last remaining baker in Devizes to sell

the cheesecake closed down and the recipe then disappeared.

To find out more about this most English of dishes,

I've been pointed in a rather surprising direction.

-Dolcipani.

-This'll do nicely.

-Sounds good to me.

Look, I'll go first and see if they'll let you in.

-No, I'm sorry.

-Come on!

The hero of our story, Giovanni Campanella, comes from a long

line of Sicilian bakers whose skills and recipes he's inherited.

-Giovanni, when did you come to the UK?

-1977, a young fella.

-'77?

-1977.

-And what was the food like when you got here?

-Well, I didn't like it.

But I was wrong. I wasn't looking correctly.

As soon as I started making a few friends and being invited

in people's homes, then I discovered that this country has as much

as a food legacy as anywhere close in Europe, particularly in Italy.

When Giovanni heard about the long lost Devizes cheesecake,

his interest was piqued and he embarked on a one-man mission

to bring back this sleeping beauty back to life.

So, it took somebody who had come from Italy to come here to Devizes,

to reinvent a traditional Devizes cheesecake?

This is a voyage of discovery, it's not just a cheesecake.

It's really a cheesecake that has been found in people's memory

and we had to extract it.

We knew the ingredients, but it was nowhere to be seen.

Eight or nine years ago, we started this process.

As puddings go, this one has had quite a build-up.

Time to put old Jane Austen and Giovanni to the test.

First step is to make the cheese for the filling.

Turns out curd, or ricotta as it's known in Italy,

is very simple to make.

Boil a pan of milk and then add the crucial ingredient.

-We're going to introduce my cider vinegar in there.

-Well introduced.

I start stirring it.

I give it really three or four stirs, but not more than that,

but if you can see, the ricotta is already rising.

Can you see the ricotta rising already there? It really is magic.

-It's a little miracle.

-It is a miracle.

The curd is then drained and removed from its muslin bag.

And out comes the beautiful ricotta.

It's mixed with beaten eggs and spices - cinnamon and nutmeg -

as well as sultanas and almonds.

So, here I had to use a little bit of fantasy.

I mean, how do I get this cake not to go soggy?

Basically, we created a double armour around it.

-You're letting us into your deep trade secrets now.

-No, no.

-We're OK, we won't say nothing.

-It's not unlike cement.

It has to look a little bit like a medieval pie, that's how I saw it.

It's carrying a lot of...a burden of history.

And you don't want to let Devizes down, do you?

Devizes has given me a lot and I think I really owe it back.

-Or indeed Sicily. You don't want to let Sicily down.

-No.

There you go, my little baby.

An hour and a half later, time to taste the goodies.

-I wouldn't think that was a cheesecake.

-No.

It doesn't look like a cheesecake, does it? But it's beautiful.

-It doesn't taste like a cheesecake.

-Yes, it's got its own character.

It's got its own character.

It's only a cheesecake because there's ricotta.

And that nutmeg really gives it a signature, doesn't it?

-Gives it a kick.

-That's great.

-Bravo! Bravo!

-Good, I'm pleased. I'm so glad you like it. Thank you.

Look at them locks, Tel.

You know, I've never been through a canal lock in my life.

I see you more speed boat, French Riviera, eh? Is that what...?

Yeah, and don't lead me to a sailboat anywhere.

I have no wish to be putting up sails and gibbing

and doing all the rest of the things that you're supposed to do.

-I like a gin palace.

-There's some serious locks there.

Don't talk to me. I don't even want to see them.

-Got more locks than a Rasta!

-THEY LAUGH

What am I doing in this cab?

This flight of 16 locks was the last part

of the Kennet and Avon Canal to be completed. Stretching for two miles,

they allow barges to climb 130 feet to the top of Caen Hill.

Back in 1963, when a lone Chamberlain was roaming these parts,

they were in a sorry state, silted up, completely unnavigable,

but now restored, they're once an engineering marvel to behold,

so all things considered, they do deserve a closer look.

MAN SINGS

Is that the sound of an old malojian I hear?

I haven't had one of those since the last Eurovision Song Contest.

And there's singing. Follow me.

# Well, Sally is a girl that I love dearly... #

Life on a canal boat seems like a lot of hard work to me.

-There are some diehards who wouldn't have it any other way.

-Hello.

-Flipping heck!

-Me hearties!

-A free stater. What are you doing here?

-How are you doing, my old Northern Ireland friend?

-I'm Tom Lewis.

-How you doing, Tom?

-This is my wife.

-Nice to meet you.

-And this is your boat.

-It is.

It's our boat and our home for a while. Step on over here.

I'll only step on if I can step off again.

-Well, I don't know about that.

-OK.

We'll take you somewhere else to step you off.

I'll take your word for it.

-Are you going to go up all these 16 locks?

-We are.

Who's the one going... You're the one going to do the work?

We share, we share.

And when the one who's not on the tiller... Has a windless handle

to open the valves that are called paddles.

I'm afraid there's a lot to learn here, Terry, in a very short time.

That's something I'm not going to bother learning, OK?

THEY LAUGH

It takes experienced canal boaters four hours to pass through all these locks.

Luckily, I've brought someone along to do the heavy lifting.

-Ahoy, skipper!

-Ahoy, Mason! Go on, do something useful.

Help Lynne with the locks, man! Aarh! Aarh-aarh-aarh-aarh!

Take her into the wind, Mr Christian.

-Great.

-All right?

-Thank you.

All right? I'm going to leave you there,

I'm going to walk up to the top to open the paddles.

See, he's got a life of luxury as usual. I'll do all the work, Tel.

Enjoy it.

# And now I find a sailor ain't a sailor any more... #

-Whoo!

-# ..Haul on the rope... #

Gates are opening. King of Ireland is coming through.

Mind those ducks!

Aarh-aarh! It's a sailor's life for me.

But before I take the King's shilling,

I'm reminded of our real purpose on this journey - food.

I'm happy to say the estimable Lynne has knocked up

a delicious bread and butter pudding in her tiny galley kitchen.

Lynne, this is absolutely beautiful.

And I'd like to be associated with the remarks of the last speaker.

Thank you very much, both of you.

Mason and myself are travelling gently around the country

and we're some sampling all sorts of things on the way.

You must have the same kind of variety of food as you

travel up the canals.

Yes, and, of course, over the 30 years that we've been going on canals,

we have seen the standard of cuisine in canalside pubs soar out of sight.

It's not egg and chips any more.

There are different varieties of food as you go from locale to locale.

-What about some rivioli, huh?

-Ravioli, rivioli? Oh, dear!

-Sorry!

A punster in our midst! That was pretty bad.

Somebody, some thinking person, has written a special limerick for us.

Two men went off to Devizes - that'll be us -

The streets were full of surprises.

They learnt how to bake, Got a mouthful of cake,

And rode a canal boat that rises.

-Wahey! I like that one.

-Yeah.

No gastronomic tour of Devizes would be complete without trying

to track down another famous pie that bears its name.

Having cracked the mystery of the missing cheesecake, we now

turn our attention to something much meatier, the long-lost Devizes pie.

Tel, this is The Black Swan. You're in for a treat here.

A lot of locals neck a few in here. Get it? Neck it, yeah? Come on in.

Can I trust him?

Devizes pie was first mentioned in the 15th century and its meat-heavy

ingredients were listed in a recipe book of 1820

called The Practice Of Cookery.

Since then, it's fallen out of favour but today, we are

going to have a go at raising this ancient dish from the dead.

-OK, Florence, it's all yours.

-Right. So begins our mission.

-Devizes pie.

Yep. Begin by lining it all in the streaky bacon.

And then, well, you can choose which thing you want to start

-layering it up with. What do you reckon?

-I like a bit of tongue.

-A bit of time first, yep. So, do you want to do it?

-Do you like tongue?

-I've never tried tongue.

-What? Try a bit of tongue. Mm! Oh!

-It's lovely.

-I've never eaten tongue.

-It's delicious.

This has been pickled in brine for over a week

and then boiled up for three hours. Be pretty liberal with the spices.

-So we've got white pepper...

-Fling it on.

-..allspice.

OK, let's just start doing this. A bit of allspice.

-That's aftershave, innit?

-A bit of cayenne pepper.

-Who told you how to make this?

-I simply read... I just read...

-On the internet!

-Yes!

-You're making it up as you're going along, aren't you?

-Yep.

-You didn't get this recipe anywhere!

-No, it's all genuinely...

I've tried to follow it as closely as I could actually, apart from the...

Have you just walked in off the street?

A side benefit for eaters of Devizes pie is that

it'll do your digestion the power of good.

Offal is rich in chemicals called nucleotides, which are said to

ease conditions like irritable bowel syndrome.

-Trust me, I'm a medical man.

-In goes the pig's head.

Bits of chap, bits of round the back of the neck.

Pretty good respect for... You know, shows real respect for the animal,

doesn't it, to use all of the... every single bit.

We're not ignoring any small part of the animal.

So, what are you pouring in now?

So, this is some jelly from boiling up the pig's trotters

and the pig's head and a bit of sherry,

just to give it a little edge.

Any vegetarians will be doing backflips now, wouldn't they, Tel?

But it's more of a terrine dish really.

-It's layers like a terrine, yes.

-Terry's terrine.

-It's got a ring to it.

-Suddenly I'm very proud.

My masterpiece needs an hour in the oven, which leaves

plenty of time to absorb a bit more local colour.

# ..The vly be on the turmut

# The vly, the vly The vly be on the turmut. #

Bravo! Well done, sir.

-A bit handy with them, aren't you, mate?

-Oh, yeah.

-What are they?

These are known as clackers. They're actually ox ribs.

You boil up the ox ribs, put them in bleach

and they're very brittle and they clack.

-Is this a traditional Devize instrument?

-Very much so.

All the old codgers in the old clubs have all got the clackers, you see.

-Oh, they've all got the crackers!

-Yes, clacking away.

-Right.

Yes, very, very local.

And that little song you were singing?

Is the Wiltshire Regiment Song,

the marching song of the old Wiltshire Regiment.

But marching a song as they'd go to battle,

they'd be singing of... # Vly be on the turmut. #

Let's have a look at them.

Now, you keep one rigid and clack them together.

Yes, I just ain't getting it, John. Can I use the knee?

-Not really but I'll let you off.

-Go on.

-I'll let you off.

-Seeing I'm a layman.

-It sounds right. It sounds right.

The moment of truth is here.

Luckily, I'm big enough to stand back

and let Florence take the applause.

Come on. Oh! THEY CHEER

Whoa!

-It looks really good.

-It's a triumph.

-This stands up on its own.

-Tasty.

-Oh, my goodness!

-Delicious.

Is this a pie Devizes should be proud of, Tel?

Don't talk to me while I'm eating.

'By the way, everyone is cleaning up their plates.

'It looks like this Devizes pie could be heading back from obscurity

'and straight onto the specials board.

'There'll be queues back to Swindon, you mark my words.'

-Well, we've had enough food today.

-Oh, yeah.

-Do us for a week.

Sink a battleship. That was beautiful that pie though, Tel.

Started with a wonderful breakfast, finished with a magnificent pie.

-Don't forget the cheesecake.

-Oh, for goodness' sake.

-Come on.

-Let's get out of here.

-Let's walk it off.

MASON LAUGHS