I'm cheating this morning because my mind went back to Stanley's Crumpets and the wealth of local bakers we used to have in the town.
The East side of the Green in 1982. (I'd forgotten the Station Garage!)
Here's the cheat, an extract that we posted a long time ago.
Stanley’s Crumpets – Harry and Stan Stanley, 1950’s – extract from my autobiography. [Barry Sharples]
Mentioning the earning of money reminds me of the many occasions I assisted, at Stanley’s Bakery and Whip’s Café.
The Stanley’s were very good friends of the family; in fact I always referred to both Stan and his brother, Harry, as uncles. I first started to assist the whilst at Barlick’s secondary school, first on Saturday mornings and then during holidays, which I thoroughly enjoyed, even going with uncle Harry on many of his deliveries to shops all over Lancashire.
In the bake house it was always Stan who made up the batter in a huge round container, which was then covered with a cloth to await fermentation.
This was done under maximum security; he was always concerned about his recipe being discovered. There were two large gas heated hotplates, which were covered with lightly greased crumpet rings, and then the batter would be ladled in. When the surface of the crumpets had bubbled up and just lost their moist appearance, it was time to turn them over. This was done with the aid of a cranked palette knife and a deft flick of the wrist, which I soon mastered.
Once the surface, now at the bottom, had acquired a light golden colour it was time to lift them with the palette, two or three at a time, onto the cooling racks. Five minutes or so later we would lift off the rings and stack the crumpets into piles of approx. eight into tissue lined cake trays.
Occasionally there would be a misshape, which at the end of a shift were given to me wrapped in tissue paper, as well as ‘ten bob’ or sometimes more. Many was the time I ran all the way home with the comforting warmth under my arm and the distinct aroma of impending gastronomic delight and money in my pocket as well! Ah happy days.
No doubt due to these experiences during my formative years, I have had a lifetime love for the humble crumpet, but sadly without the lashings of butter now considered de rigueur.
At the risk of sounding like a granddad! They just do not make crumpets like that any more, now they are smaller, thinner, steamed not baked, and either left pale and anemic in colour or ‘torched’ to give some semblance of colour but devoid of the true flavour.
In addition to crumpets Stan and Walter introduced Scotch Pancakes and Oatcakes to their production range, which like crumpets, I still find irresistible if not somewhat disappointing now.
Scotch pancakes were made with an egg-enriched batter in a similar mode to crumpets except without the restriction of rings or hoops. This gave them a pleasant lack of uniformity, although the practiced hand of the ‘uncles’ ensured fair portion size.
The Oatcakes were made much differently, and not without a degree of skill. A thin oatmeal batter was ladled onto an oat flake strewn, linen belt, which on the immediate flick of the wrist on a wheel, moved the belt and threw the batter out to one side. This was thrown onto a steel sheet also dusted with oatmeal; this resulted in an elongated thin oval, which was then dried in the hot cupboard until rubbery firm.
To consume this delicacy required the diner to dry the oatcake before an open fire until crisp, then break-off pieces, spread liberally with butter and eat immediately.
It was my father who introduced me to Whip’s Café and to the proprietor and his wife, whose names I sadly cannot recall.
The café also incorporated a bakery and shop, which was situated on the corner of the main street, opposite the then railway station, in Barlick. Here I spent many happy hours peeling potatoes, kneading bread for loaves, and passing tartlets through the lining machine and a myriad of other tasks. There was some suggestion that a job was awaiting me when I left school, but I had other ideas.
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Morning Bazshar, I think we are still floundering round what is in the batter to produce AN OATCAKE. Your description of the hot plate and the flour coated linen rollers sounds like the one I saw at Nelson and the method is similar, but believe me, just try to make owt like it at home and you'll end up with a 'orrid mess on the kitchen table and stove.
I think in the olden days, the dough for oatcakes was rolled out thin and baked on a Bakstone (Bakestone) at the side of the kitchen and it was the staple diet of the working man who usually worked outside in the fields or on the roads fire.
I suppose all us amateur oatcake bakers must experiment to come up with a batter that will cook an oatcake in a skillet or on a BBQ plate.
Aye Hatepe
R.W.King
Posted - 10 Feb 2005 :
Have a look in the LTP to the evidence of Jim Pollard who was reared in his parent's backstone bakery in Red Lion Street in Earby.....