Pie Season is Open

… so it is. No firm fixed place on the calendar, just a feeling in the air that it’s right about now and will last, tradition has it, until some point in February maybe.

Past years – this is Pie Season #4, I estimate – there’s been a motivation to open the business with a chicken one; chicken and tarragon mainly, leeks in there for greenery, that soapy old tarragon taste always reminiscent of the time I tried to make a grown-up dinner in a college house in Reading, and someone equally Northern, and, really, in hobnail boots, looked over my shoulder and said ‘bit of a flash cook, are ya?’, which left an impression because I was only so in Opposite World.

Once used this shot in a pie-promo piece for a restaurant, which garnered a heap of yum-yum comments. Which was quite fun.

Once used this shot in a pie-promo piece for a restaurant, which garnered a heap of yum-yum comments. Which was quite fun.

This year as it happens I am opening with Steak & Ale; the former from our local butcher, who got it from a local cow, the latter a tin of Bass – which brewery I worked for, before pretty much everything became disorganised. Slow cooking, the meat is in with potatoes and carrots and onions (white, because I never think red goes well in these situations), with mushrooms coming along in a bit, and various splashes of whatnot and that. Vague recipes, the very stuff of life affirmed.

The white enamelled, blue-edged pie tin. Classic.

The white enamelled, blue-edged pie tin. Classic.

Pastry management begins much later, when the afternoon is darkening and there’s footie on Radio Five – Man U and Arsenal, as it goes (no Gooner, but I’m SO enjoying Arsene’s coming good again) – and there’s every possibility that crumbles of Stilton (sounds like a posh furniture maker) will make it into the rolling out process. No, I do not make my own. Not yet.

Chicken one. Probably with that tarragon stuff.

Chicken one. Probably with that tarragon stuff.

Well, look, this is just to remark for the record – and with pictures of pies past – that Pie Season is, as rumours have been abounding, actually, sweethearts, open.

Bit of detail there on the decor. And the fancy bird pie funnel I got for Christmas from my wifely B.

Bit of detail there on the decor. And the fancy bird pie funnel I got for Christmas from my wifely B.

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About Stevie Mitchell

I come from a long line of cartoons and beer. I was once peed on by a tiger. Hoping the resultant super-powers are yet to come, cos if these are they, then, grrrr....
This entry was posted in Family History, Food and tagged , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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