Zythophile has written eloquently of the history of the ploughman’s lunch. Usually, the main protein component is a big lump of sweaty yellow cheese, but I’m very partial to a piece of pork pie.
So partial, in fact, that I made one.
The plan was to eat this with a nice pint of beer for Sunday lunch. Of course, what we ended up doing was getting a bit tipsy with Stonch at the Betsey Trotwood, and eating half of it at four in the morning…
I got my recipe from Elizabeth Orsini’s The Book of Pies. If you fancy making your own, here’s a decent recipe online.
Bailey
Never mind about putting chopped-up bits of the royal arms on our new coinage, what about a representation of a pint and a pie? Is there anything more symbolic of Britain, I askew?
I really am a big fan of pies. I draw the line at cockney pie and mash — what’s the grey stuff in those pies? — but everything else, from Gregg’s steak slice to a Borough market wallet-buster, works for me.
Gregg’s makes me ashamed. I hope people don’t realise it’s a Geordie thing (Gregg’s of Gosforth is the full name, Gosforth being part of Ny’cassel)
I have a raging passion for the pie, very much inherited from my East End born grand father.