Rick Stein Takeaway © Sam Harris
FOOD & DRINK
A Foodie’s Guide to Cornwall
There is a particular kind of hunger that arrives the moment you cross the Tamar. Maybe it’s the sea air, or the long drive, or simply the knowledge that you are now somewhere that takes its food seriously — but Cornwall makes you want to eat. And happily, it rewards the appetite. This is a county where the pasty is a point of regional pride, where cream teas come with strong opinions attached, and where the morning’s catch can be on your plate by lunchtime, still tasting faintly of the harbour it came from.
What follows is not a list of where to spend your money so much as a guide to what to look for — the dishes, the traditions and the small rituals that make eating here feel like part of the holiday rather than an interruption to it. Come hungry.

The Proper Cornish Pasty
Begin, as you must, with the pasty. It is the county’s most famous export and its most fiercely defended — so much so that the genuine article carries protected status, meaning a true Cornish pasty must be made in Cornwall to a particular recipe. The filling is simple and unwavering: beef, potato, swede (which Cornish folk will tell you is turnip), and onion, all of it raw when it goes in, slow-cooked inside the pastry so the flavours mingle and the juices have nowhere to escape.
The detail that separates a proper pasty from a pale imitation is the crimp. That thick, rope-like seam should run along the side — never across the top — a design born of practicality rather than decoration. The story goes that tin miners once held their pasties by that crusty edge with grubby hands, ate the rest, and discarded the crimp. Whether or not every word of that is true, the shape endures, and a good crimp remains the mark of a pasty made with care.
Eat one warm, ideally somewhere with a view, and resist the urge to add sauce. A well-made pasty needs nothing.

The Cornish Cream Tea — and Why Order Matters
If the pasty divides Cornwall from the rest of the country, the cream tea divides Cornwall from Devon — and the battle line is drawn in jam and cream. The Cornish way, the only way as far as anyone here is concerned, is jam first, then a generous spoonful of clotted cream on top. Across the border in Devon they do it the other way around, and the two counties have been gently bickering about it for longer than anyone can remember.
You don’t need to take sides to enjoy it, but you should know the rules of the house. A proper Cornish cream tea looks like this:
- Freshly baked scones, still warm if you’re lucky
- A good fruity strawberry jam, spread on first
- Thick, golden Cornish clotted cream piled on top
- A proper pot of tea, poured strong
The clotted cream is the star, and it deserves the billing — but more on that shortly. Find a tea garden, a village bakery or a clifftop café, and give yourself an unhurried hour. The cream tea is not a meal to rush.

Fresh Seafood and Harbourside Dining
With a coastline this long, it would be strange if Cornwall weren’t a seafood county — and it is, gloriously so. Boats still work out of the harbours, and the short journey from net to kitchen means the fish and shellfish here taste the way they should: clean, sweet and unmistakably fresh.
No name is more associated with Cornish seafood than Padstow, the pretty harbour town on the Camel Estuary that the chef Rick Stein helped put firmly on the culinary map. The whole place hums with a love of good fish, and a stroll around the harbour wall, watching the boats come and go before you sit down to eat, is half the pleasure. But Padstow is far from the only place to eat well by the water. Almost every working harbour has somewhere to tuck into local crab, lobster, mussels or the catch of the day — often with the boats that landed it bobbing just a few feet away.
Look out for Cornish crab in particular, sweet and generous, served simply with brown bread and a wedge of lemon. When something this good is this fresh, the kitchen’s job is mostly to stay out of the way.

Fish and Chips by the Sea
For all the refinement of harbourside dining, there is a humbler pleasure that no trip to Cornwall is complete without: fish and chips eaten outdoors, with the sea in front of you and a gull eyeing your supper with bad intentions. There is no improving on it. The fish should be in crisp, golden batter, the chips thick and hot, and the whole lot wrapped up to carry down to the harbour wall or the top of the beach.
Towns like St Ives and Falmouth make particularly fine settings for the ritual — find a spot on the quay, balance the carton on your knees, and eat with your fingers as the light goes gold over the water. It is a simple thing, and one of the best meals you’ll have all week.

Cornish Cheese, Dairy and That Famous Clotted Cream
Cornwall’s lush, rain-fed pastures make for happy cows, and happy cows make for exceptional dairy. The county’s most celebrated product is its clotted cream — thick, golden and crowned with a crust, made by slowly heating rich milk until the cream rises and sets. It is the heart of the cream tea, but it finds its way onto puddings, into ice cream, and onto a teaspoon when no one is looking.
Beyond cream, Cornwall has quietly built a reputation as a cheese county. You’ll find a range of farmhouse cheeses made here, from soft and creamy styles to firmer, tangier ones, and a local cheeseboard is a lovely way to round off an evening in. Pair it with a Cornish chutney and some good bread, and you’ve assembled a feast with barely any effort at all.
Saffron Buns, Stargazy Pie and Old Cornish Curiosities
Some of Cornwall’s most characterful foods are also its oldest. The saffron bun is a case in point — a sweet, golden, lightly spiced bun studded with dried fruit and coloured by saffron, a spice that has been woven into Cornish baking for centuries. Warm, perhaps split and buttered, it makes a fine companion to a morning cup of tea.
Then there is stargazy pie, surely one of the most striking dishes in British cooking: a pilchard pie with fish heads poking up through the crust, gazing skyward — hence the name. It belongs to the village of Mousehole and to the tale of Tom Bawcock, a fisherman said to have braved a wild storm to bring home a catch and save the village from a hungry winter. You won’t stumble across it on every menu, but it is a wonderful piece of edible folklore, and a reminder that Cornish food carries its history close to the surface.
Cornish Gin, Ale and Things Worth Raising a Glass To
Cornwall has long known how to fill a glass as well as a plate. The county has a proud brewing tradition, and a pint of Cornish ale — golden, amber or dark — is the natural accompaniment to much of the food above. The local pubs are an institution in their own right; if a long, lazy afternoon over good beer appeals, it’s worth seeking out the best pubs in Cornwall for somewhere to settle in.
In more recent years, Cornish gin has joined the party with real flair. A wave of distilleries has sprung up across the county, many of them drawing on the local landscape for their botanicals — coastal herbs, gorse, even hints of the sea itself. Served long with a good tonic on a warm evening, a Cornish gin and tonic tastes a little like the holiday in a glass. Whatever you choose, raise it to the view.

Farmers’ Markets and Eating Like a Local
If you really want to understand how Cornwall eats, spend a morning at a farmers’ market. They appear in towns and villages across the county, and they are the best window there is onto the local larder — stalls heaped with just-picked vegetables, freshly landed fish, farmhouse cheeses, homemade preserves, warm bread and the inevitable, irresistible pasties.
One of the quiet joys of a self-catering holiday is having a kitchen of your own to fill. A market haul — some local cheese, a loaf, a few vegetables, perhaps a piece of fish for that evening — turns a simple supper into something memorable, and lets you eat the very best of Cornwall on your own terms. Chat to the stallholders, too; nobody knows what’s good right now better than the people who grew or caught it.
Come Hungry
Cornwall feeds you well, and it feeds you honestly — with food shaped by the sea, the pasture and a long memory of how things are properly done. Whether you’re holding a warm pasty on a harbour wall, arguing the toss over jam and cream, or filling your holiday kitchen with the spoils of a Saturday market, eating here is one of the great pleasures of the place. All you need is a base to come home to at the end of each delicious day. When you’re ready, browse our collection of hand-picked Cornish cottages and find the perfect kitchen to call your own.