The Cream Tea
Two counties have argued for generations over the order of jam and cream on a scone, and neither will give an inch. Here is the story behind Britain's most delicious feud.
Published
Quick Facts
- Core ingredients
- Scones, clotted cream, strawberry jam and a pot of tea
- Heartland
- Devon and Cornwall
- Devon method
- Cream first, then jam on top
- Cornish method
- Jam first, then a spoonful of clotted cream on top
- Protected cream
- Cornish clotted cream has had Protected Designation of Origin status since 1998
- Legend of origin
- Tavistock Abbey monks, around the 11th century, though the story is a local tradition rather than proven history
- Related custom
- Afternoon tea, popularised in the 1840s by the Duchess of Bedford
- Scone pronunciation
- Rhymes with either 'gone' or 'cone', depending on who you ask
A monastery, a Viking raid and a very old snack
The best-loved origin story for the cream tea comes from Tavistock in Devon. According to local tradition, Benedictine monks at Tavistock Abbey fed workmen who were rebuilding the abbey after a Viking attack, serving bread with cream and strawberry jam. It makes a lovely tale, and Tavistock is happy to tell it. But nobody can prove that the monks laid out anything resembling a modern cream tea, so treat it as a story that people like to believe. What is certain is that Devon and Cornwall have long been dairy country, and that the thick, golden-crusted cream made there suited the climate and the farms.
How to make cream that forms its own crust
Clotted cream is made without whisking. Full-fat milk is heated slowly and gently, then left to cool for many hours. The cream rises and thickens into a yellowish crust, which is skimmed off. The result is richer than anything you can pour. Cornish clotted cream must be made in Cornwall and have a fat content of at least 55 per cent to carry its protected status, awarded in 1998. It's closer to butter than to the stuff in a squirty can. A proper cream tea is simple: a warm split scone, strawberry jam, clotted cream and a pot of tea. Some places in Devon swap the scone for a soft white roll called a split, and in Cornwall too the sweet yeast-bun version has its devotees.
The great jam-or-cream-first war
This is where friendships end. The Devon way is to spread the cream on the scone like butter, then add a spoonful of jam on top. The Cornish way reverses it: jam first, then a generous dollop of cream sitting proudly on top. Each side has its arguments. Devon says cream spreads like butter and jam is the crowning touch. Cornwall says the jam is the foundation and the cream deserves to be seen, a golden peak on a red base. Neither county has ever conceded, and visitors who pick a side in the wrong place can expect a raised eyebrow, or at least a good-natured lecture.
Why a cream tea isn't quite afternoon tea
Afternoon tea is the grander cousin, with crustless sandwiches, cakes and a tiered stand. Its fashion is usually credited to Anna Maria Russell, Duchess of Bedford, who in the 1840s asked for tea and a light snack to fill the gap before a late dinner. Friends joined in, and the habit spread through high society. The cream tea strips all that back to its best bit. It is the seaside, the farm café and the National Trust tearoom version, the one you can eat at a garden table in a cagoule. It also became a tourist ritual. Rail and road holidaymakers heading to the West Country made it as much a part of a trip as the beach.
Small quirks worth knowing
Even the word scone divides the nation. Some say it to rhyme with 'gone', others with 'cone', and there is no ruling that settles it. Strawberry is the traditional jam, though raspberry has its fans. Butter on the scone before the cream is generally regarded as excessive, although plenty of people do it quietly. The tea itself matters too. A strong, malty black tea cuts through the richness, and a pot for sharing is part of the ceremony. The whole thing is meant to be slow, a little messy and never rushed.
Notable people
- Anna Maria Russell, Duchess of Bedford
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