My never-ending quest to find a decent pasty in Victoria continues.
Yesterday, on my trip to Bendigo, I made a stop at a little town called Malmsbury, about fifty kilometres south of Bendigo, with the desire to try one of their pasties.
A couple of my colleagues had said that the pasties weren't too bad there. What "not too bad" means was up for debate. As a South Australians, we have the monopoly on good Cornish Pasties. They're the best. Finely diced vegetables, flaky pastry, piping hot - best obtained in proper bakeries rather than bought at the servo. They're a staple, which every time I go back to South Australia, I have one or two for lunch. I'll even bring a couple of frozen ones back with me in my luggage - they are that good.
On my trip to this little, pictureseque town, which reminds me of an English village, the car was parked near the very pretty botanical gardens. I didn't get too freaked out by the large geese roaming around the back of the public toilets. And after a pit stop, I went around to the bakery - of which my two colleagues are fans.
Two pasties and a coffee scroll were purchased. I bought the pasties cold so I could have them for lunch over the next couple of days. The coffee scroll was eaten for lunch and that was good.
Today, I heated up one of the pasties for lunch, which according to one colleague, was supposed to be great, the other saying they were good.
My verdict?
I give it a six.
In all, as Victorian pasties go, it was fine - but they wouldn't pass muster back in Adelaide. The pastry was too thick and not flaky enough, the veggies were a bit soggy (and I'll give this the benefit of the doubt becuase I'd reheated this.) The spices were a bit too muted. And who puts corn in Cornish Pasties? Eh? And it was a bit too big.
In all, it was a reasonable effort, but still not like the pasties from home.
I was a bit disappointed after the hype. Would I return to the bakery? Yes. Would I try the pasties again? Maybe.
But my hunt for a good Cornish Pasty in the states outside of South Australia continues.
Ah the joys of being a parochial whinger.
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