This incongruous delight is thanks to the Benedictine monks of Buckfast Abbey, who raise funds for their ministry by selling the produce of other abbeys across Europe. Thankfully these good men, who spend their life in contemplation, teaching, and a regular rota of prayers to save all of our souls, have no issues with force feeding birds a bit of grain in pursuit of culinary ecstasy. (Let's hope none of the protesters who've forced the stuff off most grocery shelves in this country never discover what the monks are up to.)
Foie gras was just the start. It seems that Europe's Benedictines produce for many corners of the luxury goods market. Gourmet foods, scented candles, high-end cosmetics, essential oils and exotic fruit liqueurs filled the shelves. I shouldn't have been surprised. As any Brother Cadfael reader knows, Benedictines have always put a lot of attention into their fruit and herb gardens, using the produce in their infirmaries. Many culinary delights started out as medicinal. My day's haul, in addition to the luxury liver, included: floral essential oils in a variety and at a price I haven't seen since street markets in Provence; world-famous Agen prunes, at about half the price of when I last found them in Paris (and now being reserved to accompany some very good pork); two jars from a choice of at least a dozen kinds of honey; a tisane comprised of linden, hyssop, mistletoe leaf, camomile flower, angelica seed, fir tree bud, peppermint and lavender that the sweet nuns of Aiguebelle tell me will be good for my respiratory problems; hand-made cough sweets with honey and propolis, a resin collected from beehives that my oncology nurse says works wonders on sore throats; and some ultra-rich hand cream, also with propolis, from the Abbaza di Praglia (the only Italians in this otherwise French line up).
I can't believe I've been coming to Dartmoor for a decade and never found this place. It's like someone hijacked a Fortnum & Mason food, wine and cosmetics lorry and flogged it off at a third of the price. They have a limited range of their products on their web site (www.buckfast.org.uk), but for the best stuff, you have to get there in person.
Before you shop, however, do have a look around. Had it not been for Henry VIII, this would be one of the oldest abbey's in Britain, founded in 1018. Monks came back to Buckfast in 1882, as the worst of the prohibitions against Roman Catholicism ended and the country saw a resurgence of the old faith. In ancient Benedictine tradition, they built their church with ther own hands. It's a lovely place, but becomes awe-inspiring when you learn that there were never more than six monks working at any one time, but they persevered over 32 years to completion. The style is early Gothic revival, to match what would have been the glory days of the old abbey, and it's filled with some beautiful side altars and a particularly impressive corona lucis (a giant chandelier) over the high altar. Outside, there's are two lovely gardens, sensory and herb, screened by high hedges, and other gardens and grounds that encourage quiet contemplation.
Quiet was not the point of our other big sightseeing destination this trip. Coleton Fishacre is the Jazz Age party house of the D'Oyly Carte family, who made their money as the exclusive producers and promoters of Gilbert and Sullivan, then parlayed it into a luxury hotel empire that included the The Savoy, Claridges and The Berkeley. The house, now National Trust, sits on its own green and pleasant peninsula between Dartmouth and Torquay, providing both dramatic coastal views and idyllic rural scenes, with plenty of walking paths to appreciate both.
The house is Arts and Crafts on the outside, and clean, restrained art deco within. It was empty when the Trust inherited it, and over the years they've made an effort to re-furnish with period pieces. Today, you feel like you've dropped in on some house party with Hercule Poirot. There isn't much from this time period open to the public, so it's a unique day out. There's also a room dedicated to Gilbert & Sullivan and the family history, and they've fully restored and kitted out the large servants' quarters. Both are just as interesting as the public spaces. My favourite spot, however, is the covered loggia off the dining room, where both a dining table and a hammock are set up to enjoy those views. There are also magnificent gardens, cascading down a narrow valley to the sea.
Sadly, all the family's good fortune did them little good. The only son and heir to the empire was killed in an auto accident while on break from his hoteliers' course in Switzerland in 1932. The D'Oyly Cartes' marriage shattered and the glamourous entertaining at Coleton Fishacre came to an end. Like its inhabitants, the house withdrew into a quiet retirement. A daughter inherited, but she didn't have children, so the empire was split up on her death.
All of which brings me back to the monks, who ultimately have the right idea. Quiet contemplation, community and faith endures for thousands of years and delivers contentment. Fame, fortune and party-fueled lifestyles ... even with the best foie gras and gourmet goodies ... can't guarantee anything.
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