Texture: jelly-like, stir a little if you like it more spreadable
Colour: brick red
Taste: like spring, it feels like you’re eating fluffy chicks
Sweetness: 6/10
Calories: 50/tbs

We had this Scottish jam with our scones in an attempt to replicate a Cornish cream tea from our vacation last week.

Cream tea was ubiquitous in Cornwall, with even farmhouses on desolate roads through the moors advertising that they served this semi-meal.  The format for cream tea appears to be two scones, a pot of tea, strawberry jam and Cornish cream.

A 2004 BBC article points out evidence for cream tea having been a Devon invention, with Tavistock’s Benedictine Abbey monks inventing it around the late tenth century.  Numerous articles fuel the Cornwall vs. Devon competition on how to eat the cream: under the jam or on top of the jam.  The BBC in 2010 then fans the flames, with Nick Rodda from Rodda’s Clotted Cream (which I enjoyed a few times on my trip) explaining the reason for the cream placement: “I would say that the Cornish make their cream better, and as my grandfather always jokingly said, ‘we always put our cream on the top because we are proud of it, Devonians are slightly ashamed of theirs so they cover it up with their jam’, but that’s a little bit of tongue in cheek rivalry.”

The Devonians argue that the cream on top puts one in danger of cream to the nose, but I found that Cornish cream, at least, was not runny enough to spring on one’s nose.  The poll on this Guardian article shows that the Cornish won out as the majority favourite.  Then again, a 2009 London Evening Standard article adds butter as a third spread.  Which I say is just crazy talk.  A cream tea scone with its jam and cream is rich enough.

This morning, my husband suddenly wanted to have one more Cornish cream tea.  As he is allergic to wheat, we adapted a regular scone recipe with some all-purpose gluten-free flour.  Then we walked to our neighbourhood supermarket to get some Devonshire cream – that’s the only clotted cream I have ever seen in our city and we are lucky to have a supply within walking distance.  Yet, at $6 including tax, a cream tea is an expensive endeavour.  The tea was a Tregothnan Earl Grey, from the only plantation that grows tea in the UK.

I can’t say how close the Devonshire clotted cream was to Cornish clotted cream, unless I sample them side by side.  Being a week removed from my vacation, this cream seems to match what we were looking for in recreating our Cornish tea experience.  The cream was sturdy enough to survive application on top of the jam.

The jam itself managed to stand up to the cream.  It was just the right amount of sweetness to cut the richness of the cream and its jelly texture was as smooth as the cream too.  This isn’t a jam with bits of roughage drawing one’s attention.  It would be at home on the most delicate of pastries.
One last note on the clotted cream.  Our cat Ivan also wanted to try a cream tea.  He got some bits of scones with the cream.  We also gave him a cup of milk.  He lapped up the cream and was off.