Dairy Hairy Bikers' Best of British

We believe Britain has the best food in the world.

Our glorious country boasts some fantastic ingredients.

Start eating it, will you?!

It's home to amazing producers.

My goodness gracious. That is epic. Isn't it?

And innovative chefs.

But our islands also have a fascinating food history.

The fish and chip shops of South Wales are running out of chips.

BOTH: Yes!

And in this series, we're uncovering revealing stories

of our rich culinary past.

Now there is food history on a plate.

As well as meeting our nation's food heroes,

who are keeping this heritage alive.

Let's have them enjoying themselves. It's a short life,

let's make it a happy one, like they always have had.

And, of course, we'll be cooking up a load of dishes

that reveal our foodie evolution.

Spring, summer, autumn or winter. It's brilliant.

BOTH: Quite simply the best of British!

COW MOOS

British dairy produce is some of the best in the world.

And you know what? We love it.

Whilst our weather may be no good for Wimbledon, it's ace for grass.

-And luscious grass means wonderful milk and loads of it.

-He's not wrong.

And, you see, the thing is, the industry has defined

the land that we walk on and the way that we eat.

So today's programme is a homage to the traditions

of the great British dairy industry.

That's enough now, stop milking it.

COW MOOS

No doubt, Kingy. we Brits love our milk.

It's one of the most versatile foodstuffs around,

giving us all manner of dairy delicacies, like butter, cheese

yoghurt and cream.

Today, we'll be exploring our historical relationship

-with the white stuff.

-Recreating a great British classic

and discovering the story behind our best-loved cheese.

BOTH: Way to go, cows!

Throughout our history, milk has been held in high esteem.

As ancient as mankind itself, it's so central to our way of life

that there have been times we've been willing to fight for it.

It's the elixir of life.

All right, milk monitors, give out the milk.

And, in many minds, it's fundamental to the healthy growth of our young.

Milk! Urgh. >

It's what Ian Rush drinks.

Ian Rush?

Yeah. And he said if I didn't drink lots of milk, when I grow up,

I'll only be good enough to play for Accrington Stanley.

Accrington Stanley! Who are they?

Exactly.

Milk was believed to be so important to our children's health that,

in 1946, the School Milk Act introduced free milk

for all schoolchildren.

After the Second World War, the Government made it

their mission to eradicate many of the diseases

related to poor nutrition.

Milk was known to provide vitamin B, D and calcium

and was seen as crucial to prevent diseases like rickets.

So, for years, the schoolchildren of this country were able

to enjoy a little bottle of usually warm and slightly gone off milk

-in the classroom.

-But all that changed in 1971.

'From September, the only school children who will get free milk

'are the under-sevens and those who are actually sick or weak.'

The then Education Secretary had to make some cuts

and made the decision to end free milk

for seven to 11-year-olds in primary schools.

It became a hugely notorious episode in Mrs Thatcher's long career.

I really think that this is

one of those very big mistakes of Government.

When my child first came and told me, I was quite upset about it.

It seems a peculiar situation altogether.

-What do you think about not getting a proper bottle of milk?

-Not fair.

I don't think it's fair, because I like milk.

Some councils were so outraged,

they took the law into their own hands and decided to defy the ruling.

The children at this junior school in South Wales are among the very few left in Britain

who still go through the familiar ritual

of drinking their mid-morning milk.

And they are going to go on getting it, whatever the Government says.

And they say they'll go even further - if necessary, to prison.

But Maggie didn't bottle it, she stuck to her guns.

Now there have, inevitably, Madam Chairman,

been some comments about the milk policy.

Soon the resistance petered out and we came to accept the loss.

But it was never forgotten.

My granddad says he used to get half a pint of milk

and he wanted me to get it,

so I could get healthy bones and stuff like that.

Of course, we don't just drink milk.

We've been using it as a culinary ingredient for hundreds of years.

And one of the most impressive uses was during the Georgian era,

when milk was celebrated in gelatinous form.

So we're off to revisit our gastronomic past

with our old mate and historic food mastermind, Ivan Day.

Ivan, we're here to talk about we British

and our love of milky puddings.

From what I see here, and from what I guess,

it's going to be a bit more exciting

than school blancmange and sloppy custard.

We once had amazing milk puddings.

If we go back a few hundred years to the 18th century, you might,

if you happened to go to Manchester, meet up with this lady,

-who I would call the mother of all milk puddings.

-Elizabeth Raffald.

She published this book in 1769 and it's a really...

It's one of the best English recipe books of all time.

She devotes a whole chapter to creams and other dairy puddings.

So there are recipes for syllabubs, possets, blancmanges

and something called flummery,

which I think is one that is well worth making today.

A flummery was originally a peasant dish made by soaking oatmeal

in water for three or four days.

The oatmeal was then probably given to the chickens.

While the water was decanted and boiled,

until it became a bit like wallpaper paste

and formed a sort of jelly.

Then they'd flavour it with sugar and spice

before setting it in a flummery mould.

It was essentially blancmange with a British accent.

Blancmange actually goes back, probably, to the Middle East.

We think of it being French because of the name - blanc manger.

Before that, the Italians had it and they called it the biancomangiare, OK.

But before that, there was a dish in Ottoman Turkey,

which still exists, but it is a dish that's got meat in it.

It's got chicken breast, it's got almonds, it's got rosewater

and it's got sugar and cream.

And the biancomangiare of Italy was like that

and so was the original blanc manger of France.

It had capon's breast in it.

Thankfully, the meaty element has fallen out of favour,

although, in recent years, we've been left with the opposite end

of the pudding spectrum - bland, unadventurous

and mostly out of a packet.

But there was once a middle ground.

FANFARE

In the 18th century, it was amazing what could be achieved.

With a mould and a bit of food dye

a flummery could be transformed into birds' eggs,

cribbage cards, and there was even a flummery fry-up.

And we can't wait to have a go ourselves.

So we're going to make our variance on flummery called jaunemange.

-Jaunemange.

-Jaunemange - "yellow blancmange". Right.

So these are the ingredients.

We've got half a pint of water

and we're going to put into that some gelatine.

We'll immediately put it over on the heat over here.

This is half a pint of wine, white wine.

-Dave, could you cut that Seville orange across that way.

-Yeah.

If you could squeeze that and strain it into that little pot.

Seville oranges, I mean they were used in all sorts of dishes.

We're also adding the zest of half an orange and some sugar.

Next, we're beating in four egg yolks using the natty utensil

that looks like a witch's broom.

Then it all goes back on a gentle heat.

That's now beginning to thicken up - a bit like a custard.

So what we'll do is we'll strain the orange out.

Once you've done that and it's cool,

you want a quarter of a pint of thin single cream.

Once that's completely cool, and not before, we can put it in the mould.

And the inside of this mould has been lined with fat, not oil,

as the oil will float on top and render your milk pud

well and truly stuck.

Whilst we wait for this little beaut to set, Ivan's going to show us

some of the other flummeries he has in his repertoire.

The thing is, though, how do we get them out the moulds?

With difficulty, and sometimes with an enormous amount of stress,

you know, because I have a failure rate of about one in nine.

-Oh, no.

-That's pretty good.

It is pretty good, but, the thing is, what you do is,

-as I showed you, we line these with a little bit of fat.

-Yeah.

-Right.

What you've got to do is push down like that

and that's looking as if it's going to come out.

Then, the best thing, the easiest way to do it,

is to do the Tommy Cooper thing,

-where you actually go like that. Are you ready?

-BOTH: Yes.

And then... This one is one of my favourites.

-It was probably the most popular jelly ever...

-BOTH: Wow!

..in the history of... Well, it's not a jelly, it's a flummery,

but just watch what this fellow does, OK.

# Let's do the wobble. #

-This!

-It looks like something from the alien...

-It does!

It's fantastic, isn't it?!

LAUGHTER

I mean, have you ever seen anything like that?

Not for a while!

-It will...

-LAUGHTER

Not on the telly, Ivan, no!

-Trust you!

-It will do absolutely anything you want it to.

That's extraordinary. No, I can imagine.

When you see the mould, you have no idea, you know!

A dancing flummery.

Go on, have a go, Simon.

It will... If you do a jig, it will just dance with you.

-Do you come here often?

-Celebrity Come Dancing.

It's fantastic. Hey, man, that's brilliant. I've found a new friend.

That's an amazing thing.

Now related to that is probably, for me,

the most spectacular flummery of all.

This is the tricky one, because I'm going to try and get it

onto this very beautiful 18th-century salver.

-That is beautiful, isn't it?

-I just hope that it comes out.

-BOTH: Oh, wow! Look at colours! Wow!

-OK.

-Oh, hey, man.

-Now, look at that.

That's called Solomon's Temple. This is a real Georgian dish.

This is what food looked like in the 18th century.

I bet you've never seen anything like that in your life before.

Imagine, when the waiter comes to the table with it

and he's holding the salver like this.

It must have caused an uproar.

Now, if I can get this one off.

Oh, wow!

-And that.

-What!

-That has get a wow factor.

-Isn't that fantastic?

Pineapple would've been so expensive and exotic, too.

Well, let's crack on, because, obviously,

this is the one you made earlier on.

This is your jaunemange, the yellow blancmange

with the lovely Seville orange flavour.

'The question is, will it come out in one piece?'

-Fantastic.

-Well done.

-That's fabulous.

Ee, Ivan, this must be the ultimate dairy experience.

It makes those milk puddings

and blancmanges of schooldays

look so incredibly primitive.

-We've lost our way, haven't we?

-I think so.

It's worth reviving some of these.

The jaunemange, the "yellow mange", instead of blanc - white - mange.

I think we should taste it,

because, you know, it's got Seville orange juice in it.

Mmm.

-It's lovely. It's very, very fresh and light.

-Wow.

It's good, isn't it?

I wasn't expecting that at all. It is really good.

'We think it's high time we reignited our love for the milk pudding.

-'But if all this looks a bit too elaborate...

-Or risque.

'..to try at home, we're going to show you another

'historical British dairy recipe that's sure to impress.'

Cream is a wonderful dairy product,

but it's sheer luxury that sometimes can be quite overwhelming.

It can and we're doing something overwhelming today. Oh, aren't we?

-We are.

-That celebrates the great British dairy produce

in its entirety.

It's unctuous, it's velvety, it's boozy,

it's all the things that you love.

'This is a Trinity cream,

'a scintillating combination of cream, Irish cream liqueur

'and chocolate.

'It looks rather like a French creme brulee.

-'But this is its richer...

-And tougher.

-..British cousin.'

Guess what, a key element to all cookery is flame and a pan.

And cream.

-Dreamy cream.

-Now...

-Double cream.

-500 millilitres of cream goes in.

And this is good quality white chocolate.

Look at those vanilla seeds just sitting there.

-Proper Madagascan vanilla.

-Right.

Just break them up. And, look, it's a gentle heat,

so just nice and gently, just melt it together and stir it.

Not constantly, but certainly regularly.

It has been said, quite wrongly, that the British invented creme brulee.

It's a myth, the French did.

But in the 19th century, recipes appeared for Trinity cream,

or Cambridge burnt cream, and that is British.

It has a thicker top and less sugar than the French version.

You can just see now how the chocolate is starting

to release those beautiful vanilla seeds of flav... Oh!

I'm getting transfixed, man.

To six egg yolks, we put in some caster sugar.

-SIBILANTLY:

-75 grams.

-Of caster sugar.

-Yes.

IRISH ACCENT: Now, a nice big glass of Irish cream.

Just plop that in with your eggs and sugar.

Whisk this till it's fluffy.

The story goes that this pud

got its name from Trinity College Cambridge.

Apparently, an undergraduate offered his boozy recipe

to the college kitchens, but they rejected it.

It was only when this student became a fellow of the university

and presented his recipe again that it was taken seriously.

And the name "Trinity cream" stuck.

Now just slowly mix in the creamy white chocolate.

Right, there we are,

all the chocolate and cream have gone in successfully.

Just like Ivan showed us with his flummeries,

we're greasing the bowl with fat - in this case, butter.

Now we just pour that in there.

Oh!

That'll do.

And place that into a roasting tin.

And with just-off-the-boil water...

Fill that up pretty high, I would've thought.

Because it's quite a high dish, isn't it?

Now we put that into a low oven - 130 degrees Celsius for a fan oven -

for about 45 minutes, until the custard is set to a light wobble.

Now this pudding wouldn't be complete

without a bit of crunch on the side.

So we're going to make some dippy biscuits, or langues du chat,

to provide that contrast with the wobble of the Trinity cream.

-Have you done?

-Should be done, mate.

It should have a nice wobble on it.

-Nicely browned on top.

-BOTH: Oh, yes.

Perfectomundo.

That is a perfect example of what we mean by a "wobble on".

I mean, look at that. It's wobbling just like you used to do

when you were sitting on a rocking chair before the diet.

-It's true.

-# Blum, blum, blum, blum #

I'm going to take this out of the bain-marie.

Leave it to cool on the side

and then I'm going to chill it in the fridge.

This gives us time to make the langues du chat,

the cat's tongues dippy biscuits.

So, before then, we'll turn the oven up to 200.

-Are you going to blend?

-I'll blend.

-I'll zest.

We've got some icing sugar, some butter.

And guess what we'll do with that?

We'll blend it together.

Now look, before it starts to cream,

it will go the consistency of scrambled egg.

Oh, now it's going.

-And just beat it until it's quite light.

-Nice.

-Half teaspoon-ish of cinnamon.

-Thank you.

Half a teaspoon-ish of vanilla extract.

I'll give it a whiz. C'est magnifique.

'Into that goes the zest of half an orange.'

Then two egg whites, one at a time.

Now your mix might split at this point, but don't worry,

when you add the flour, it will all come back together.

Hoof it into a piping bag.

And just pipe these out about six centimetres long.

'These will spread out and flatten as they cook,'

so give them room to grow.

'You might be surprised at how many you get.'

Pop these into a preheated oven,

a hot oven, 230 degrees Celsius for a fan oven,

for six to eight minutes

until they've just started to go brown around the edges.

Six to eight minutes and counting.

Just brown around the edges. That's how we like our langues de chat.

And, I think you'll notice, they're all perfect.

-Eh, yeah, dude, they are.

-And these are best left to cool on the tray.

-Don't eat them!

-Why? They're nice. Tell you what, dude.

-Yeah?

-They're hot.

-I've just taken them out the oven, you buffoon.

-I know.

'I'll just get the is out of the way so I can expect the bowl of wobble.'

-There we go. Now look it's firmed up lovely.

-Ooh, yes.

-Hasn't it?

LAUGHTER

How do you know when there's an elephant in your fridge?

It leaves its footprint!

It's fine, because we're going to do the caramel topping.

But it's a Trinity cream, so it's a thick topping.

'Thick it might be, but quick it isn't.

'There's no hurrying caramel.'

Sugar goes in pan.

Water goes in pan with sugar.

Now, there are only two things to remember.

First of all, never stir it. You can swoosh it.

But don't stir it.

The other thing is, the heat needs to be gentle enough

not to burn the sugar,

but it needs to be strong enough to melt the sugar.

It's a waiting game.

-It's like when you first go out in the sun, you're there on the beach.

-Exactly.

You're lying there, all white and pasty

and you think, "It's not happening,

"I'll never get a tan." Before you know it, woof!

'It'll take about ten minutes before the sugar finally begins to turn.'

But do not be tempted to dip your finger in it.

No matter how inviting that may seem,

'this stuff is hotter than the sun.'

I do believe that caramel is upon us.

-Now, when you start to smell it, give it a swoosh.

-Mm.

Yeah. Enough.

The caramel will carry on cooking even off the heat.

so let's get a shift on.

To form a crunchy top, float the caramel over a lightly oiled spoon

onto the top of the pud.

You see, that's sitting beautifully on the top.

And we leave that to set.

And when it's set, to serve it, you'll get that wonderful crack.

You crack into it.

This is a tribute to a dairy product

so fine, it's worth locking away under a topping so hard,

it could be made of Trinity College's own roof slates.

Oh! It's thick as the bowl!

Ho-ho! That's nice and creamy.

Isn't it?

Oh, the glittering spires of academia.

Trinity. Elevate your pinky.

-Mm. That is the best of British dairy.

-Yeah.

If you want to do something as a salute to British cream,

you want to go all the way, open out all the stops,

turn on the taps, have a go at making our boozy Trinity cream.

Whatever the dairy you're using in your cooking,

the chances are the cattle that'll be supplying it

are the big black-and-white Holstein Friesians

that have come to dominate milk production in the UK.

MOOING

Yeah, it's reckoned up to 80% of our dairy herd

is now made up of this high-yielding breed

that was first imported from the Netherlands.

But whilst Holsteins have gone on to global domination,

one area of the British Isles has remained loyal to a dairy cow

that's officially the world's second most popular breed.

14 miles off the French coast, this island of Jersey

is home to a breed of cow

that is considered the gold top of the milk world.

Darren Quenault owns and runs the last independent dairy on the island.

And to him, Jerseys are perfect.

The Jersey cow is the best cow in the world.

She is not only the most beautiful, but it's been proven

that she is the most efficient converter of food into milk,

so from that point of view, there is no other breed.

They're gorgeous, they're docile, they're beautiful,

they're absolutely the piece de resistance of all the breeds.

Everything else looks up to her.

The rest are just inferior also-rans.

They're bigger, clumsier. You know, nowhere near as pretty.

Come on, girl, come on. Come on.

# Baby face

# You've got the cutest Little baby face. #

First recorded as a breed in around 1700,

it's thought this gorgeous cow was originally descended

from cattle stock brought over from the nearby French mainland.

By 1789, the island had banned all imports of other cattle,

allowing farmers centuries to develop the breed

for its purity and strengths as a producer of quality milk.

But it didn't stop them being exported.

Now, the fastest-growing dairy breed in the world,

you can find them everywhere -

America, Africa, and even Saudi Arabia.

Eh up, that's no Jersey cow, Kingy.

No, but when an Arab sheik wanted something high octane

to give his thoroughbred racing camels,

he thought, "I'll buy myself a herd of Jerseys."

The aim of this project is fuel for the camels

and everyone is quite happy that once the camels have had their supply,

the rest goes to the palaces for human consumption.

Just hoping that Sheikh Mohammed will get some on his cornflakes!

And what's good enough for Sheikh Mohammed

and his camels is good enough for Darren.

I have tried other milk, but there is no flavour in it,

it tastes like water.

It's a situation where we've got the creaminess,

we've got the quality within the Jersey,

so everything else tastes inferior to my taste buds.

For many British dairy farmers, these days, times are hard.

But these beautiful cows and the amazing milk they produce,

is all the motivation Darren needs to keep on farming them.

The actual milk is never going to make you any money.

From that point of view,

it's a situation where it is a labour of love.

I've been 30 years milking cows. I know them all.

I know their mothers, their fathers.

Where other people will have a hobby,

my hobby is looking after cows.

I am trying to make a living out of it.

Fortunately, the milk's qualities have given farmers like Darren

plenty of opportunity to add a bit of value to their base product.

we are presently using about a third

of today's production to go into cheese.

We've got to make some yoghurt, we've got to skim the cream to make some clotted cream

and bottle the rest for all those lovely people on this island

who drink my milk.

And with so much butterfat to play with, when you're this far south,

you can only really make one thing.

The ice cream is the most luxury of all the products.

It is the one where you can really taste that golden Jersey goodness.

It's the one that ruins my waistline the most, because it is gorgeous.

You just keep chewing it.

It's not what you call a six-pack any more.

Six-pack or no six-pack,

it's not stopped Darren concocting new flavours

and his latest product uses black butter.

For once, it's nothing to do with cows.

Many moons ago, much of Jersey was covered by cider orchards.

Apples from these orchards, treacle, lemon, cider and spices,

have traditionally been blended together to make a product

that, like the cows themselves, are synonymous with Jersey.

It's taking the essence of something

which is not produced anywhere else but in Jersey,

mixing it with our luxury cream,

and it's trying to get something which nobody else can replicate.

The rich, intense flavours of the black butter should combine

perfectly with the smooth creamy butterfats from the Jerseys.

But when you've got one of the creamiest milks in the world

to work with, it's nice to go that extra mile.

This time, we've used clotted cream

to make it even more smooth and luxury.

You'll really be able to taste the creaminess from my lovely girls.

After looking after his cows seven days a week,

and processing their rich, golden milk, it's unsurprising Darren

has developed an almost religious passion for all things Jersey.

Ah, but will anybody else?

-To the beach, Kingy?

-To the beach.

Dig in and tell me if I've got it right or wrong.

Mm. It's very, very creamy.

There's a... I can taste a bit of apple and blackberry.

It tastes to me quite caramely and I could eat quite a lot of it.

LAUGHTER

-It is absolutely gorgeous.

-Delicious.

Can I get a job doing these all day?!

I think he's onto a winner there.

-WOMAN:

-That's a hit.

We Brits have embraced ice cream ever since the Italian immigrants peddled

this frozen treat from handcarts back in the Victorian times.

But we needed some gentle persuading

when it came to another dairy dessert

that we enjoy by the bucket load today.

In the world of British dairy,

there's a relative newcomer to these shores.

And that's yoghurt.

Yep, today, it might be as familiar to us as Cheddar cheese,

but before 1963, it was as unknown to the British public as the Beatles.

But in less than 50 years, the humble yoghurt went from something

just foreigners and a few health food aficionados ate

to a mass-market super-food that seven out of ten of us regularly tuck into.

It's one of the greatest marketing success stories in our food history.

And has been successfully reinvented to fit in

with just about every trend to come along.

No-one knows for sure quite where or how

this fermented milk product first came about.

But it was most probably by accident some thousands of years BC

in Central Asia.

# Shake it all over. #

It's said that Genghis Khan's men couldn't get enough of it.

But whilst the marauding hordes enjoyed it,

we Britons never swallowed it.

To us, it was just good milk gone bad.

But all that changed in 1963

with the launch of this revolutionary new product.

-ADVERT:

-Ski real-fruit yoghurt is a new lively taste.

Ski was invented in Switzerland

and by adding fruit and lots of sugar to yoghurt,

the brand pulled off something of a miracle

by making this sharp and foul-tasting substance

palatable to us Brits.

# One lump of sugar

# Don't compare

# To the sweetness Of my baby's loving care. #

It was an instant hit

and single-handedly launched a dairy revolution.

-Not only did it get us eating yoghurt.

-It was a huge money-maker.

Suddenly, you could charge an awful lot more for the same amount of milk.

-Result!

-It wasn't long before other brands started to appear.

-ADVERT:

-They're thick, they're fruity,

they're the good guys. They're the prize guys.

And never again would Blue Peter lack ideas

when it came to ingenious craft items.

And now, over to Val.

And it's a man made out of... I wonder if you can guess what.

Yoghurt cartons.

But, in the '80s, things turned a bit sour for the yoghurt market.

The health movement came along and suddenly dairy became a dirty word.

But yoghurt fared better than most

and was rebranded as a health product.

# Let's get physical Physical. #

-ADVERT:

-A fit family are a jolly healthy lot.

With a pot or two of Shape fruit yoghurt.

Then, just as we entered the 1990s, yoghurt took an unexpected

and less figure-conscious turn with the launch of a new brand.

Suddenly, it became a luxury product.

With the simple addition of a dash of jam,

here was a yoghurt that cost around 50% more

-than most others.

-And yet, it was a raging success.

And perhaps the biggest coup occurred

when the industry managed to convince us that drinking a little bottle of bacteria every day would do us good.

MUSIC: "Turning Japanese" by The Vapors

In 1996, Japanese firm Yakult launched their product in the UK.

Live bacteria. Take mother's advice.

It went from being something totally unknown

to selling over 100,000 bottles a day in just three years.

And spearheaded a super-food revolution.

By 2010, half of UK households bought yoghurt drinks regularly.

Today, the concept of food as medicine is commonplace

and the functional food market in this country is worth billions.

The yoghurt revolution is a phenomenal success story

that few other products can even come close to.

# Mm, Danone. #

It's so hard to believe that it's only been around for such a short time.

Because today, it's impossible to imagine our lives without it.

Yoghurt revitalised our dairy industry by creating a huge demand

for something that really hadn't existed at all before.

And it gave us even more to love when it came to dairy.

Isn't milk great? Churn it and you get butter,

add friendly bacteria to it and you get yoghurt,

skim the fat off it and you get cream.

But peek inside the fridge of any Brit and chances are there is one

milk-based product that will definitely make an appearance -

cheese.

Cheese is funny stuff, you know.

Eh-heh, Kingy, how does a Welshman eat his cheese?

-I've no idea, dude.

-Caerphilly!

-Oh, man!

-What cheese is made backwards.

Edam!

-What does cheese say when it looks in the mirror?

-Don't know.

Halloumi!

-Why did the one-legged clown leave the cheese circus?

-I don't know.

-Because he couldn't get his Stilton! Ho-ho.

-Oh, dear. Stop.

Can you make cheese without milk?

BOTH: No whey!

Got it.

We're a nation of cheese lovers.

Not only do we produce some of the best in the world,

with weird and wonderful names...

-Like Stinking Bishop.

-..and unusual ingredients...

Such as nettles.

..we've also embraced cheeses from other countries.

And made them our own.

Now, Brie, nowadays is English and, in fact, Brie was often thought

to be the cheese of choice for French royalty.

In the time of Charlemagne in the eighth century,

it was his favourite cheese and it continued thus to be favoured by the court.

But since the 1980s,

Somerset Brie has been winning prizes globally for being the best Brie.

-And that's what this is.

-Somerset Brie. That's ours.

And we're doubly making sure that you don't mistake this cheese as French

by putting it in something quintessentially British, like pie.

But this is no ordinary pie. It's our cheese and chutney turnover.

And it couldn't be simpler.

-Right, pastry.

-OK.

Listen, I've only got two ingredients for the middle,

-so I'll carve something out. Should I make a sculpture or something?

-No.

Just 180 grams of cubes of cheese minus the rind, please, Mr King.

180 grams of cheese without the rind is about that.

I'm using self-raising flour because they're like a cheesy puff pie.

They puff up. Self-raising flour in a bowl.

-Oh, this is easy.

-Isn't it?

You could do cocktail ones for parties.

-Ooh, I'll just have a cocktail turnover!

-Why don't you?!

-Ooh, yes.

You could do them with mushroom, as well. Pick your cheese.

You can do Stilton and walnut turnovers.

Just look upon this as a starting block.

Half a teaspoon of salt. And stir that.

-How many are you doing?

-Six.

-Right.

I've got a block of butter.

I'm going to cut it into cubes and rub it through

until the flour resembles fine breadcrumbs.

Now, just rub that through with both hands.

Eh, look at that, Dave, look.

-Beautiful.

-Six little soldiers waiting for the war.

Now, this rind, what you do...

I don't know what you do with it, if I'm honest.

DAVE GUFFAWS

What you could do, you could roll it up into a ball.

And give it to the mice to play with.

Now I've finished the pastry and we're doing this with 225ml of whole milk.

And there's no set-aside for this, waiting for it to chill,

we're just going to go for it - build turnovers.

I'll get our home-made tomato chutney. Whoa! Look at this.

Home-made is best, of course. but this dish will go with any chutney.

Once your pastry has formed a ball,

start rolling it out onto a well-floured surface.

It wants to end up about three millimetres thick,

which takes just enough time to let you reflect

on some of the important issues of the day.

-If you were a cheese, what would you be?

-One with holes in it. Emmental.

-Why Emmental?

-I don't know. Stringy.

You're one thing one minute and when you get heated, you go to another thing.

-I quite like the idea of that.

-Really?

-Two things, split personality.

What about you? Hold on, hold on.

Now I'm not trying to be over-familiar,

it's just you're my friend and I love you.

-I don't want you to look daft on the telly.

-I could be a Swalesdale.

-Who?

-Me.

-Sheep?

-No, no, they make good... It's a sheep's cheese, actually.

Cut out your circles for your turnovers.

I want mine neat and tidy, so I'm using a bowl as a template.

But who's to say you can't find a quicker method for yourself?

'And fry.'

Yep. How you build a turnover.

Take a spoonful.

Oh, Dave.

Spread that about a centimetre from your rim.

Place a block of Brie on one side.

Paste this with water.

Like so.

And turn it over, because it's called a turnover.

Neat.

We want those edges to meet.

Like that.

Get the air out. And press with a fork. Just like that, neat.

Very neatly. Neat and precise.

The fat wants to be hot enough that the little turnovers sizzle gently,

slowly melting the Brie inside.

That's why you want to be careful when you're pressing the pastry edges together,

so that nothing oozes out while they're cooking.

(It's leaking.)

It's not!

(Oh, you swine.)

SIMON LAUGHS

One of these days, you're going to turn over a new leaf.

Oh, man!

About four minutes on each side should be enough to puff up

the pastry and give it a nice little suntan.

-Look at these, Dave, they're lovely, actually.

-Golden brown.

Wonder what they're going to be like on the inside.

-Gooey.

-Mm.

You see, the reason that the UK has so much cheese

is partly due to the dairy industry and Britain's farmers,

because it produces 13 billion litres of milk a year.

That's a lot of udders.

On a more sobering note, one of the huge problems is that farmers,

on the whole, are getting less for the milk than it costs to produce it

and, at the minute, about two farmers a week are going out of business.

If we don't support our own dairy industry soon, we won't have one.

And that means British cheese, British milk, British butter.

And, you know, it's not fair is it, really?

It's not fair, because it's about profit over people.

Stop it and support what we need to support,

which is our own industries.

This is a serious business.

If only everyone made these all day, every day,

we could put the dairy world to rights.

A little greenery. A platter of turnovers.

And there we go.

Six perfect parcels of molten yumminess that are our contribution

in the battle to keep the British dairy industry alive.

Pick your turnover, gladiator.

-It's going to ooze, isn't it?

-Jaunty angle.

It should ooze.

Ah.

-Look at that. That pastry is nice and light, isn't it?

-Tastes lovely.

-A cautionary tale, it'll be hot.

-Mm.

-They're brilliant.

-Are they good?

-Mm.

Messy.

But really good.

-It is optional to eat these with a knife and fork.

-You can if you like.

-They're lovely.

-They are, very good. Very good. Best of British cheese.

A bit of the best of British milk in the pastry, too.

-And, one of the best of British inventions.

-Yes, the pie.

And so from the cheese that was French,

-but we have inherited as our own...

-To one that has always been ours.

In the south-west of Britain lies a cultural historic landmark

that acts as the heart of Somerset.

Wells Cathedral.

And Wells Cathedral also serves as a landmark

for one of Britain's most successful food exports.

As a matter of fact, only cheese manufactured within 30 miles

of its imposing stone edifices could traditionally call itself Cheddar.

BOTH: Our very own big cheese.

From its humble artisan beginnings in Somerset dairies,

Cheddar cheese has become a generic byword for cheese all over the world.

Jamie Montgomery is the third generation of his family

still making Cheddar cheese in the right place

and in the traditional fashion.

The concept of Cheddar cheese has become so industrialised,

because it's been a very easy cheese to make on a very big scale.

And so I quite enjoy being there as a reminder

to all the big industrials that they call theirs Cheddar,

but, actually, this is what it's meant to be like.

To make authentic Cheddar,

you've got to produce your own quality milk daily.

And Somerset's pristine grazing

has been offering farmers this for centuries.

Big cheeses come from very fertile places.

And Somerset is tremendous grass-growing country.

So every little farm that had cows, they had more milk

than they could use and so they had to do something with that milk.

There was no transport of milk to London,

there was no Milk Marketing Board.

They had to do something with it or put it down the drain.

So pretty much every single dairy farm was making cheese.

It would be the wife in the kitchen, effectively, making the cheese.

Farmhouse Cheddar, although widespread,

was banned during World War II as the Government sought

to collectivise and streamline cheese-making and milk production.

And with this infrastructure and rationing still in place after the war,

traditional small-scale artisan cheese-making in Somerset simply never recovered.

And our cheese suffered.

Ah, well, this is the life.

An idyllic corner of this green and pleasant land,

delightful company and a splendid spread for our al-fresco lunch.

But it's the cheese that lets it down.

A sweaty, solid block of best supermarket mousetrap.

Just the thing that lets down any kind of picnic.

To produce Cheddar like this on a factory scale,

the first thing has to be controlled is the milk.

Often from multiple sources, it's pasteurised to give

cheese-makers a uniform, homogenised product to work with.

But to give his Cheddar the true essence of the rich Somerset pastures from which it originates,

Jamie uses unpasteurised milk straight from the cow's udder.

And with that, you never know what you're going to get.

The beautiful thing about unpasteurised traditional Cheddar cheese

is it's still complex.

It's the raw milk, it's the grass, it's the water we use,

it'll be everything has an influence.

If it wasn't everything having an influence, we would be able to define a particular flavour

that we always get. I can't.

Every cheese is different and every cheese is a journey

that it's not just one flavour that's happening.

The whole point of eating unpasteurised cheese is to look for more than one flavour.

It's not just the milk that influences the final product.

The way you choose to make your cheese also plays a role.

The instantly recognisable texture of Cheddar

is an important factor in its success all over the world.

Historically, to achieve this, the curd would be cut, then stacked

and repeatedly turned by hand to ensure all the moisture drains away.

Famously known as cheddaring, the process is crucial to the look and feel of the finished product.

The big slabs of curd that we've created can't go straight into the moulds like that,

so we break it all up through a machine, which shreds it.

The way you shred the curd is crucial

to the type of texture that you later get in the cheese.

We have the traditional peg mill, with no sharp cutting surfaces,

and so it comes out all different shapes and sizes.

Those rough-edged bits of cheese

go together to give us a grain, a bit of broken texture.

The reason that everybody else uses a sharp cutting machine

is because, A, it's quicker for them,

and, B, it gives them a really close-textured cheese at the finish.

They don't get those lovely grains running through it.

And so, when they pre-pack their cheese into those very, very tiny pre-packed wedges,

it doesn't break up.

That's market telling me how to make the cheese.

I don't want to let the market tell me how to make the cheese.

There's all sorts of ways they can do what is necessary for them to do

to make exactly the same cheese day after day after day.

That's their target.

That's their only target - to make it absolutely consistent.

Our target is to make it interesting

and that involves making it different day after day after day

and if that involves getting it wrong every now and then

because there's something in the milk that's gone absolutely crazy, so be it.

And who's going to argue with him?

The cheese made from today's milking is compressed

before being cloth-wrapped in the traditional fashion

and then matured for 12 to 18 months.

It's only during this time that some of the unique flavours and textures

that result from unpasteurised milk can start to develop.

Nice and bouncy in the mouth, though.

-This is springy.

-Springy. It's fine.

So that was in April, was it? It was a bit wetter.

We believe that to make a really good artisan Somerset cheese,

you've got to have your own cows,

don't mess about with the milk and put it into cloth binding

so it can breathe and then keep it long enough for it to really mature.

And that's just the bits we do know about.

There's going to be loads of stuff - that is about this farm

and about the environment - that we don't know.

That's got some butteriness. Wow. That's a great cheese. Good.

And although mass-produced factory Cheddar might struggle

to emulate the complexities found in artisan Cheddar,

they nevertheless have elevated cheese like Jamie's into a class of their own.

If there wasn't all that other Cheddar out there

and we were all there was, would it make it any easier for us

to jump up and say how special we are? I don't think it would.

I think it would make it slightly harder, because it's more fun

to say there's all this out there, but we are the real thing.

And if there's one thing a really good Cheddar is really good for,

it's a ploughman's.

But I don't think you need us

to teach you how to put a cheese on a board.

So here's something new.

You know we go for a ploughman's sometimes and it's cheese and it's hard work?

Wouldn't it be great if you had all those lovely pickles and everything

and your bread and if you just dip that in molten cheese?

And, actually, if we put the beer in there as well, it's all in a onesie.

We have combined the fondue, which everybody loves really -

mm, stringy, yum-yum - with a ploughman's lunch.

And we've created the plough-due.

This is a great invention.

A pot of lava-like molten cheese to gently smother

over your favourite pub snackettes.

The texture contrast between the crunch of the dippers

and the soft fondue is truly something to behold.

I'd give it three days before some enterprising pub in Britain

will be serving the ploughdue.

I'm very skilfully going to cut this loaf of bread, or some of it, into cubes.

My friend here is going to make a platter.

A plethora of dippy things. It will look like a harvest festival.

Honestly. It's going to be lovely.

I am going to make that board the best it's ever looked.

I do want good flavour in this,

so what I have to do is rub the pot with a clove of garlic

to build up the aroma. Rub it well.

-A cast-iron saucepan's good for this if you haven't got a fondue kit.

-It's true.

But they're cheap to get, fondue kits, now.

You see these now? They're brilliant.

If you run out of fuel, use diesel(!)

-You'll stink like a swine in your house!

-Don't use diesel.

I was only joking. You know I was only joking.

Anyway, mega lecker.

So, put some heat on under your garlic-encrusted fondue pan

and pour in a glass of beer.

Good old IPA or a pale ale, summat with a bit of hops

and melt gently.

Meanwhile, take a hunk of good, strong cheese and start to grate.

You can use what you want, really, just a good slab of Cheddar.

Fondues were so popular in the '60s and '70s,

and there used to be three courses of fondue.

You'd start off with the cheese,

then you'd go on to one with a pan of hot oil and cut little bits of meat,

and then you'd go onto a chocolate fondue and dip your strawberries,

and there's all those customs, isn't there, that, you know,

if you dropped your bit of stuff off the fork,

if you are a fella, you've got to get everybody else a drink,

and if you're a woman, you've got to kiss everybody round the table.

Now, we're going to thicken this with two tablespoons of cornflour.

And we're going to put two teaspoons of English mustard in.

You know, Kingy, we are onto something here.

We are, I think we should open a ploughdue restaurant.

Ploughdues R Us, I can see it now.

-In bright orange lights.

-Yes, yes.

By now the beer should be nice and hot.

It doesn't need to be madly boiling, just warm enough to melt the cheese.

Now, that is the well-mixed cheese, mustard and cornflour.

Now, we put this in, a nice big spoonful at a time,

and I've just got that off the heat, and stir it,

and when that's melted, put some more in, but don't rush your ploughdue.

The word fondue comes from the French "fondre," which means to melt.

It's thought to have originated in the cantons of Switzerland, where

they predominantly melt Swiss cheeses like Gruyere, Emmental and Raclette.

But other countries have a fondue, too. The Italians have a...?

-Fonduta.

-The Dutch, they have a kaasdoop.

So, it seems perfectly appropriate to me

that we British should have a fondue of our own.

-Well, Dave, you're not wrong.

-Hence, the ploughdue.

It's funny though, Kingy, the term "ploughman's lunch,"

it is quite a new one,

and it is said that the term came as a clever advertising gimmick

from the Milk Marketing Board to try and persuade us to eat more cheese.

So, the idea is you go for a pint, you eat cheese.

But the concept of eating cheese, pickles

and having a jug of beer, I'm sure that is as old as time itself.

Oh, absolutely, absolutely. Well, that's what farmworkers did.

They were relatively low paid, and that's what they had.

They had been eating that sort of thing for centuries.

Simple lunches of bread, cheese and fruit.

So all those lovely, classic accompaniments

that you can think of, with a ploughman's lunch,

you can accompany the ploughdue with the same.

Some pickled onions, some mustard,

baby beetroot,

farmhouse chutney,

and last, but by no means least,

some caper berries - with their stalks on - so we can dip in.

The rest of that cheese in...

It's a thick little number, isn't it?!

Right, and I was just going to say, if you do think it's thick, you can

always let it down with more beer.

Oh, nice, mate, nice.

Are we ready to light the fire?

Has that been lit since 1973?

I don't know, but I am about to find out, though.

-Oh, yes.

-Oh, perfect.

Kingy, this is beautiful. Look how creamy that is.

It's the cornflour that gives it the texture.

Look at that, it's a lovely texture, isn't?

When you think all it is is beer, cheese, cornflour and mustard.

Such a simple and indeed frugal set of ingredients

can come together to make so much more than a simple ploughman's.

But, of course, there's always a price to pay.

Remember, if your bread drops off,

-you've got to buy the drinks.

-Excellent.

Actually, that's for a fondue, there should be different forfeits,

shouldn't there, for a ploughdue?

Oh, yes, you'd have to shave a sheep or something.

Or run naked around a field... in your Wellingtons.

Oh, look, there's something lovely about that, though.

Yes, it's like a fondue, it's got the cling of a fondue,

but it's good British ale.

Oh, hey, mate, that is brilliant.

Mmm.

I tell you what is remarkable.

You can taste the hop in the bitter.

-I'd be interested to try this with cider.

-Hmm, that would be nice.

I think it would work, I mean,

trying to match beers with cheeses, but, you know, I think this,

Kingy, with creating the ploughdue, I think we've scratched

-the surface of something of a culture that could really catch on.

-Hmm.

Because the variety of cheeses we have is huge in this country,

the variety of beer we have is huge. Let's start melting and making.

It's worth it. The best of British cheese,

melted and stuff dipped in it.

Come on, you've got to love it.

The dairy industry has, more than any other, shaped the way we eat,

and the land that we walk on.

Throughout history, we Brits have produced some of the best

milk-based products in the world, and by eating or drinking them,

you are supporting British dairy farmers.

From the global icons that are Cheddar and Jersey cream...

to ice cream and fancy milk desserts,

the British dairy cow -

we salute you.

MOO!

And, if you want to try out the recipes on today's show,

visit bbc.co.uk/food.

Subtitles by Red Bee Media Ltd