I'm beginning to feel very sorry for the writer who has aroused the ire of Cornish folk by daring to criticise the Cornish Pasty.

In fact I may start a Society for the Protection of William Grimes.

Mr Grimes works for the New York Times and, despite his very English, almost Dickensian, name, is very much an American. His major mistake was to write his column in August, when the British press is notoriously on the look out for silly season stories and he handed them one on a plate.

It was tailorlmade - an American who actually has the temerity to suggest that the beloved food of all who walk these hallowed shores was, on occasions, not all that much to write home about. And he from the land of the everlasting junk food.

Before he could say turnip Mr Grimes found himself in every national and provincial newspaper, television and radio news, the foreign press and, not for a moment should we forget, the Cornish Times.

Local people munching pasties rose up in unison and to make matters worse I found someone to write us a story from a Californian town where descendants of Cornish miners still revere the pasty. They too are after Mr Grimes' blood now - and an annoyed Califo-rnian mountain dweller is not to be trifled with.

I sent the paper to Mr Grimes and he immediately e-mailed me back, which considering he has been fending off the world's media was a very gentlemanly thing to do and I now feel guilty for joining in the lynching party.

Because I have to say that what he wrote is, in parts, true. And, come on now, we all know it is.

He didn't say all pasties were horrible, just some. And I defy anyone with hand on heart not to admit that on occasions they have had a real turkey of a pasty.

Well, dang me, I've said it. I'm with the Yanks on this, and if it's civil war I'm going to be in trouble. I'll damp it down a bit by admitting I have eaten a pasty in California and very nasty it was too. They don't know the meaning of a bit of skirt there - in it's truest sense - and I suspect that mine was made (and I'll whisper this) of corned beef. Sacrilege.

The pastry wasn't up to much either - but then this is the fat land of lower and lower fat content in everything but at least 60 per cent of its population. Lard is not a word which is bandied about much.

But I've had nastier pasties here. I've had ones with the pastry so thick you could have dropped it from a 747 and not damaged it, never mind down a mine shaft . I've had pasties which could have passed muster at a vegetarian conference, so lacking was the meat content; and once a hollow pasty with a tiny heap of mush in the middle and an expanse of air around it.

I've had pasties which had grated potato and minced meat so that it was like a tasteless hash, and ones which were grey inside and out. And I've even had a pasty, and in Cornwall too, which contained carrots instead of turnip.

On the other hand I've had glorious, crispy, golden flavourful pasties brimming with meat and fresh Cornish potatoes, turnip and onion all done to a turn. Seasoned lightly with salt and pepper, taken hot and fragrant from the oven, you couldn't want more.

The best pasties are, needless to say, home-made ones, but you can find shops all over Cornwall selling pasties which make the grade, and more so.

And all the newer varieties, Beef and Stilton, Cheese and Onion, Curry, Pork and apple, even baked beans, are increasingly popular and very tasty too.

Meanwhile, I'm with Mr Grimes. He has not, for one moment, backtracked and trotted out a list of excuses as to why he didn't enjoy our national dish. He says he's still searching.

He also says he ate a good one in Michigan once and thinks he might arrange for one to be sent over for profitable study. A bit naughty that.

He's also had plenty of letters from Cornish folk and lots of recipes as well. There is no sign of any pasties so far - but maybe in the bowels of the New York Times someone is beginning to wonder where the smell is coming from.

Actually, next time Mr Grimes comes over I hope he has a go at cream teas. They range from a scrumptious repast of huge feather light scones, mounds of yellow cream and deep red fruitfull home-made jam to those where the scones are dry, powdery and taste like old talcum powder (and so small the cook has probably used a wedding ring to cut them out) cream served in something not much larger than a thimble and jam which you can carve out of its dish and which could be any red fruit. I'm sure Mr Grimes could make a line or two out of that and drop himself into a bath or two of hot water.

PS - I've just seen a little boy outside the office with a spud gun.

Doesn't that take you back? Probably not politically correct theses days to encourage wargames and guns in the hands of potential juvenile delinquents, and almost certainly judged to be an insulting use of the pride of the Cornish potato crop.

But a lot of fun. Maybe I'll send Mr Grimes one for his next trip. We don't have to wait 90 years to benefit from the lessons the South West has learned expensively from yesterday's eclipse. As I write, the day after, the morning is sunny with only a few puffy low clouds and a little thin wispy stuff against the bright blue sky. It is such a pity the days weren't reversed.

I think it was always going to be all down to the short-term weather forecast; millions of people would have tried to come if they thought they would be able to see totality.

Those who tried to get them to make a fortnight out of two minute's really were pushing their luck, especially since a month in Spain could be had for less money.

The lesson for the South West is that tourism is never going to make us rich.

The weather, fashion and potential visitors having enough money to spend on holidays are all too uncertain. We need to concentrate on those industries which give us an advantage over other places and for which there are large widely dispersed markets to spread the risk of prospective customers not being able to pay for what we can offer.

Thus, we should exploit our local natural resources and the handed-down skills, traditions and aptitudes of local people.

That means fishing, farming, marine farming, engineering and mineral extraction, with all the added value, sciences, back-up, transport and marketing that go with them.

We should also try to provide more of our daily needs locally. Then, if we don't have to import food to feed visitors who might not come, we could sell on the still fresh produce, if they don't. Tourism should be Devon and Cornwall's income cream, not our bread-and-butter.

TONY MASKELL

Devon