Rog T Food Blog - Who ate all the pies?

Lets start with a little deviation, lets face it, we all love a little bit of deviation on the sly, don't we? Anyway, I was thinking about what to write for my Thursday blog, in the Rock and Roll Stories. I was toying with the subject of great heckle responses. One of the joys of being in a band is that sometimes herberts think it is clever to shout abuse, not realising that us old hands are used to it and have a riposte ready. A few years ago, I was on the receiving end of a bit of it. I'd let myself get a tad out of shape and was carrying a few extra pounds. I used to do a bit in the show when I'd ask the audience if they had any questions, when one of my band mates was tuning up or adjusting a drum. A bright spark yelled "Yeah, who ate all the pies?" Sadly he hadn't really thought this through. His partner, standing next to him was a lady who clearly enjoyed tucking into a nice dinner. I shot back "Your missus, by the look of it". Everyone turned around, looked at them and burst out laughing. I felt awful. I realised that I'd done a horrible thing. She hadn't been heckling me and I'd embarrassed her. I could've easily aimed a riposte at him. 

I decided that, if they were still there at the end, I'd buy them a beer and apologise. Sure enough, at the end, they were at the bar. I made my way, issued an apology and offered a beer for the pair of them. She burst out laughing, said "Never mind love, I love a good pie actually". It turned out that she was a good laugh and a good sport. She added "The reason he's such a skinny little runt is I nick all his pies". We then spent half an hour discussing the relative merits of our favourite pies. I must emphasise that she was cross, not with me, but with him, for being a knobhead with an ill thought out heckle. I vowed to never make the same mistake again, even though it ended up with us having a bit of a laugh. Anyway back to matters in hand!

I was thinking about this last week. We were in Portugal and had a lovely meal at a very decent restaurant in Ericeira called Cem Lugares Bisto. After the meal, we got chatting to the rather lovely chef and she was asking about some ideas for Northern European foods for the menu. I, of course, suggested that she consider a pie. I explained what I felt were the constituents of a proper pie. These are pastry top and bottom, good gravy and good quality meat. My favourite is a proper steak and kidney pie. To the horror of my family, we chatted for about fifteen minutes. Theycould not believe that I was telling a chef what to cook. I explained that she'd asked. Whether or not she took my ideas on board is up to her, but I've always found that if you listen to people with a genuine love of a subject, you learn something.

As regular readers will know (London Symphonies - "And on the eighth day God created pie and mash") , I am on a bit of a mission to seek out all of London's remaining pie and mash emporiums and sample their wares. I do love traditional pie and mash, even though the pies are  only my secondfavourite, as explained above. I have several bugbears with pies, usually in posh emporiums. I hate it when you order a pie and get some soup in a bowl with pastry on top. That is not a pie! It has to have a bottom, which has to be soggy! I hate small portions of pie. It is a hearty, wholesome food and meant to be served in large portions. Although I love spicy food and curries, I prefer pies to be relatively plain. Although a lot of folk love chicken balti pies at football, give me a steak and kidney any day.

I gave up eating meat for sixteen years, from 1984 until 2000. There were only really three things I missed. Bacon rolls, sausages at barbecues and steak and kidney pies. Sadly, it is getting ever harder to get a proper steak and kidney pie. It seems that the X generation do not do offal. I am sure when they all reach 50, that offal will make a massive comeback, especially in pies. During this period, I ate a lot of cheese and onion pies. I learned that, like all food, if you use bland cheese, it doesn't work. We went to one decent vegan restaurant that did a mushroom pie that was perfect. It was perhaps the best pie I've ever had, but I think the chef had a Michelin star and it was a tenner! The best thing was that it wasn't fancy. 

Then there are pudding pies. I do not have a sweet tooth, but I do love apple pies. That for me is the steak and kidney pie of the pudding world. Ideally, not to sweet, made with cooking apples. Served with custard, it is heaven. I get really cross with fancy restaurants that don't serve apple pie and custard. If I ever become Prime Minister, it will be compulsory. I don't mind if they buy a cheap one from Iceland and keep it in the fridge and serve with tinned custard. It is a million times better than a Tiramasu or such monstrosity. 

I genuinely believe that people who don't like pies are sad individuals, who don't really understand how to enjoy themselves. To me, anyone over the age of 35, who is overly thin, without a medical reason, is someone who has never really understood that you only get one shot at life and eating food is a pleasure. I don't want to live to be 100, if it is a life without pies.

London Symphonies - "And on the eighth day God created pie and mash"

I had to laugh. I was in a rather swanky bar recently. I was waiting to meet someone and was a bit  bored. I started earwigging, listening to a rather posh chap chtting to a most attractive lady, of Eastern European ancestry (at a guess). As he had enjoyed a few glasses of wine, he was quite loud, so even though I'm deaf I couldn't help but hear. He suggested dinner, in reply, she said it would be nice to try some "real London food" whilst she was in town. He replied "Ha ha ha, there is no such thing! In London, we have the best food from everywhere else, France, Italy, China, India, everywhere, so we never bothered inventing our own dishes". I immediately thought "what is wrong with this dimwit, does he know nothing?". I felt a compelling urge to put this uneducated braggart in his place, but as I have a wife who I am most happy with, taking young ladies from Eastern Europe out for a meal is probably not a sensible idea. Now I am guessing that having read the title of the blog, you probably know what I am talking about. The food of London is Pie and Mash, served in a proper pie and mash shop. Most of these are only open for lunch and shut by 5pm. Proper pies are made of mincemeat, have a slightly burnt crust. The mash should be creamy, without lumps and it should be served in Liquor, a green parsley sauce. If you are doing it properly, you add chilli vinegar and pepper. You eat it with a spoon and fork. If you use a knife, you will be recognised as a novice or a fraud. The more sensible of us will have a two pie serving. This will keep you going all day. Pie and mash shops are not glamourous. They are for working people who want unfussy, tasty and filling food. It is the one cuisine that you really can't go wrong with. It does what it says on the tin and the established Pie and Mash shops in London know what they are doing and quality is always good.

Now it may surprise you to know that I was not raised on pie and mash. In fact I was in my late teens before I first tried it. It was a long journey, but I think my pie and mash story is worth recounting. I live in Mill Hill and this is not pie and mash country. My Dad was an Aussie from the outback, who loved his food and for him, a big steak, which was burned to a cinder was a good dinner. If he ate out, he wanted huge portions of meat or he wasn't really happy. Mum was a Northerner, from Lancashire, who aspired to be posh and she wasn't a fan of working mens cafe's. She had hoped, I think, that her youngest (me) would grow up to be a man of education, elegance, refinement and taste. Sadly, my elder sister Caroline tried to flush me down the bog at three months, having half strangled me on the way. My mother assumed she'd dropped me on my head on the way, so I grew up dyslexic, stupid and rather difficult to get along with. Dad quickly recognised that I was an idiot with no sense and no taste, for Mum the penny took longer to drop. 

As our family were Roman Catholics, Friday was fish and chip day. Dad would return after work, with large boxes of steaming fish and chips, which his six hungry kids greedily devoured. Then, at some point in the mid 1960's, the Pope abolished the fish on Friday rule. Dad informed us that we didn't have to have fish. He took me along "to help" and to choose. Now I loved fish and chips, but I fancied a change, so I ordered a steak and kidney pie. Dad warned me "not much meat in them son". He stuck with fish. When we got home, I hungrily devoured the pie and loved it. From that day forth, for me, Friday was pie and chips day. It became a family joke. I can recall being in Budgens in Mill Hill with my mum. I spotted a Frey Bentos steak and kidney pie in a tin and asked mum if we could have it for dinner. She didn't approve of such things. She wouldn't buy it. I saved up my pocket money and bought it myself. Mum told me I'd be disappointed when I ate it. I wasn't, I loved it. She was horrified. I think this was the moment that she joined my Dad in concluding I was an idiot. From then, a pie was my ultimate idea of a treat. Even for pudding, the only thing I really enjoy is an apple pie, with custard. I hate cheesecakes (plates of gunge), things with chocolate in (too sickly) and worst of all tapioca and semolina (I have the scars from school dinners). 

I also developed fixed ideas of what a pie is. It has to have pastry top and bottom. If it doesn't, then it isn't a pie, it is a stew with pastry on top. The top should be crispy and the bottom soggy and with a taste of suet. So I think you've established that I like a pie. As a teenager, I took to hanging around Camden Town, with a gang of punks. This was around 1977-9. There was one girl I was particularly fond of. I can't recall the exact date, but I ended up crashing at her place, which was a squat in Camden after a gig. We woke up in the late morning and I was starving hungry. I suggested breakfast. She said it was lunchtime. As I'd just done a decorating job, I was flush with money and offered to buy her lunch at the place of her choosing. She said "You ever been to the pie and mash shop?". I hadn't. So we walked around the corner to what I now know was Castles. The menu was simple. Pie and mash. No ifs, no buts. Most cafes youd get a choice, but here it was simple. You came here because you wanted pie and mash. Now I was a big fan of pie and I didn't mind mash. I was also starving hungry, so I ordered a triple pie and mash. She had a single. When it came, I was given a fork and spoon and it was covered in green gunk. She advised me to add some pepper and vinegar, which I did. The pies looked amazing but I wasn't sure about the green gunk. On the other hand, I was starving. I took a bit of pie and some of the gunk and Praise the Lord! It was  delicious. I scoffed down the three pies in the time it took her to have three spoonfuls. We washed it down with a nice cup of tea.

Now I have to be honest here. I was rather besotted with this young lady, so I didn't really take in any of the details, the location of the pie shop or anything else. But it was a magical day for me. To my disappointement, she was going off to Uni shortly and things fizzled out, but my brain was hard wired to love pie and mash from that second forth. London used to be awash with pie and mash shops, but sadly every year one or two close. Mill Hill is a pie and mash free zone, we are all to snobby around here. When I worked in town, I'd always locate a good one as a refuge for lunch. I could escape from my colleagues for an hour. It was always a joy, one I tried to keep to myself. Until 2017, before I stopped working in Central London to concentrate on my studio business. I got out of the habit of crafty visits down to Manze's on Tower Bridge Road, or whichever one was nearest. Since I stopped having easy access, as I now work in Mill Hill, I'd sort of forgotten this guilty pleasure. 

Fortunately my Guardian Angel took me to Oxford City FC with a coachload of Hadley FC supporters in the FA Trophy late last year. At the ground, I had the best steak pie with mash I'd had for years. I mentioned this to a chap called Alan, a fellow supporter and we got onto the subject of pie and mash. He told me that he was a member of a Pie and Mash Appreciation group on Facebook. I was fascinated. On returning home, I immediately joined. One of the first posts I saw was one asking about a pie and mash shop in Borehamwood called Chloe's. Sadly my research lead me to the sad news that it had gone. Unperturbed , I found that there was a cafe called the Brick Lane Bagel Co in the town, which served proper pie and mash. As we had some shopping to do, a stop there seemed like a very good idea. 

I took Clare, promising a tasty bagel (their selection of bagelks looked pretty good, she doesn't eat meat so pie and mash is a no no). Anyway, we went there. I feigned surprise at pie and mash, not that it fooled her. As we went in a chap in Halfords overalls asked if I was there for the pie and mash and recommended the double pie offer. To Clare's annoyance and amusement, he asked if I wanted two plates. I said  "No, just one, she's having a bagel". To her even greater annoyance, he cocked the order up and gave me three pies, having only charged for two. They were wonderful. I realised what I'd been missing. I realised that there was  a London Symophony in the key of pie! So a grand journey started. 

Castles Pie and Masg

The more I thought about it, the more I realised that I needed to make a pilgrimmage to Castle's in Camden Town, where I first fell in love with pie and mash. As I now have a freedom pass, I can do this on my day off. It is only twenty minutes away on the Thameslink and the bus. I found myself back where it all started, two pies and a mug of tea. I swapped a joke with an ambulance crew and for a few short minutes I was in heaven. I got soaked on the walk from the bus stop to the pie emporium, which simply made the pies taste better. God was with me! It got me thinking of the other pie and mash shops I've frequented over the years. 

When I was 20, I worked for a chain of stores called Derek Cousins Discount Stores. They had a large shop in Peckham Rye, which was located conveniently across from a pie shop called Simple Simons. The pie and mash was superb there. However the locals immediately clocked my North London accent and I always felt the eyes of the world were on me. No one was ever hostile, but unlike Camden, when you nodded and said Hi to the customers, they would draw on their roll ups and stare at their copy of The Sun. There was a lovely Carribean lady who worked in the shop. She explained that they assumed I was a Policeman checking out some of the villains that ate in there. She sensibly observed "No one comes from North London to eat pie and mash at Simple Simons". 

This was confirmed, when a rather colourful local character called Sid Turner rented some workshops from my Dad in Bunns Lane Works. Sid was originally from South East London and was what we used to call "a bit of a geezer". My Dad got on with well with Sid, who was always good for a laugh, even if there were suspecions not all of his wealth was legally acquired. Dad liked the fact that Sid was always prepared to try his hand starting new businesses. Sid started what is now The Bunns Lane Car wash, which is still running to this day, albiet with Kosovan ownership. 

I was chatting to Sid one day in the mid 1980's and he mentioned that his favourite restaurant was a pie shop in Peckham. I asked if it was called Simple Simons and he was amazed I knew it. I told him the story of how I got the cold shoulder there. He said "Yeah that was probably me, we were always on the lookout for coppers and grasses poking their noses in". I agreed with him that it was a great place. I joked to him that he should start a Simple Sid's in Burnt Oak. He looked at me and said "That's a brilliant idea", withing six months he'd set it up. He told me that as it was my idea, I could have a free pie and mash anytime I wanted if he was around. Sadly, it only lasted a few years, but it was much loved by the customers. Sid got into property renovations and one of the many crashes cleaned him out and ended the cafe and most of his other enterprises. Happily he bounced back, but never reopened the pie and mash shop. I recall watching Sid chin one of the locals, after they suggested that he was an old man and past it in the cafe. Sid came up to me and apologised for disturbing my dinner, but I replied normally I had to pay for such entertainment and we had a giggle. I was delighted to spot a tweet discussing it on Twitter back in 2017!

@RobertElms I've been trying to find the name of a former pie & mash shop in Burnt Oak which was run by Sid Turner. https://t.co/Q54zzMWQ0S

— Mike Goldwater (@OldSpeckledMike) June 10, 2017

Which brings us to the final stop on this tour. As I mentioned, in more recent times, my favourite pie and mash shop was Manze's on Tower Bridge Road. I've not been there since 2012, when I was working near Tower Bridge, so I thought I'd make a trip down.  A good mate of mine, Mick lives down that way, so I thought I'd meet him there. Being a Northerner, I was worried that he wouldn't get proper London food, but it was a good chance to catch up.

Manze's was just how I remember it. I suspect that almost nothing has changed in decades (apart from the prices). The sign displaying the prices is one of the peg board type signs, so not even a new sign is required when prices change. 

They have a Hall of Fame gallery above the prices, with a signed picture of Roy Orbison taking pride of place. Like all good pie and mash shops, the building is tiled with white and green tiles. 

Everything is functional and huge numbers of pies are dispensed during the course of a day. When I used to work near Tower Bridge, I'd sneak down once a week. I knew a few of the regulars. Once, I was sitting there tucking into my dinner and a fellow sat opposite me and tried to strike up a conversation. After a few pleasantries were exchanged, he said "Tell me, is Jesus in your life?". I don't really like talking to people about my beliefs, not least because generally when people start conversations like this, they don't want to hear my beliefs, they want to explain how their own are superior.

My response took him by surprise. I replied "Yes, Jesus walks every step of the way with me". He was a bit surprised and said "What do you mean?" I replied "He's sitting here with us now, as we speak. Did you know that if Jesus had been a cockney, he'd the last supper would've been pie, mash and a cup of tea?". The chap looked horrified and said "You shouldn't joke about such things, God takes a dim view of people who do not respect him". I replied "I have ultimate respect for God, he has blessed us with many gifts and to me the greatest of all is being able to eat pie and mash in peace and quiet". My new friend got the message. 

I do genuinely believe that when Jesus returns, you'll be far more likely to find him having a pie and mash with his mates, than in swanky restaurants. I don't know if his Dad, God, created pie and mash on the eighth day, once the world was done. What I do know is that it is an honest, simple pleasure should be cherished. As I get older, I've learned to appreciate things, especially things that I love that seem to be slipping away. I feel the need to write a song and make a video that will do justice to my love of our pie and mash shops, but every time I've tried it has turned out a bit too Chas and Dave for my liking. I will get there one day though!

.

The Sunday Reflection #32 - Londons pubs, cafe's and Indian restaurants, past, present and future?

 What is London to you? Yesterday I went to watch Hadley FC play Oxford City in the FA Trophy. I spent much of the journey chatting with Alan, a fellow Hadley fan. We discussed football, music, the joys of parenthood and pies. I won't share most of this, but the conversation about pies was wonderful. I can honestly say that Oxford City FC sell the best pies I've had for years anywhere. Proper chunks of steak, no gristle and proper suet pastry. Absolutely delicious. Alan told me that there is a Pie and Mash appreciation society page on Facebook. I won't bore you with the details of our chat, but it got me thinking. For many of us of a certain age, Pie and Mash is indicative of a London that is disappearing before our eyes. 

I had always dreamed of writing a book about the great cafe's in London. My idea was to spend a year where three days a week, I'd visit a different greasy spoon cafe or pie and mash shop. Maybe even ten years ago that was still my ambition. Now? I am not sure that there are enough to actually do it. The days when eating in a cafe was cheap, seems a thing of the past. I still have a favourites. The Cafe Anglais in Colindale is one. The Little Portland Cafe is another, a guilty pleasure for me when I was having my cancer discussions at UCL. But the whole culture of cafe's for the workmen of London is a dying culture. Pubs are another victim. The industry is almost unrecognisable from when I started going to pubs in the 1970's. Then beer was cheap, pub hours were limited and everyone smoked like chimneys. Food in pubs was a  bag of nuts. But that is a lost London.

The present? There are still great pubs, but they are different. Some outliers hold on. I love the Southampton Arms in Kentish Town, it has many of the best features of 1970's pubs, but it has a far better range of beers than most pubs then. If I eat out, it tends to be curries, but this is another sector that is under pressure. I like old school curries. The owners who set up shop in the 1970's are dying and retiring. Enjoy it whilst you can.

And the future? What will London's pubs, cafe's and Indian restaurants be like in the year 2044. I'll be 82, if I'm still here. What is the pub of the future like? I look at my kids and what they like. They'll be in their 40's then. They don't really seem interested in beer. They like places that have a vibe. Will there still be real ale pubs, or will that culture die, when my generation pass? I hope not, but my kids aren't interested. They like curries, but like the cheap and cheerful sort. I suspect the sector will survive but become more London. The old Bangladeshi generation's food traditions will pass. The food will either be cheap and copious, or expensive and fussy. And the cafe's? It seems to me that healthy eating ideas will do for the little family run cafes I love. I hope I'm wrong, but it's hard work running a cafe and there's no margin on egg and chips. 

And finally, going back to my conversation with Alan. Will the pie and mash shop survive. None of my kids have my love of pies. I don't see too many of their generation with our obsession. I do hope they do, but London is constantly changing. I do wonder what I'll be eating when I eat out in London in 2044, maybe it will change for the better. When my Grandad was my age, having a curry wasn't an option and he'd probably have hated it. My Grandma wouldn't go in pubs. She thought they were for men. So it does change and evolve.