For Pie Lovers Everywhere

LOVE OF PASTRY, JOY OF PIES

Comfort food (n) : food prepared in a traditional style having a usually nostalgic or sentimental appeal.

There are times when nothing else will do. A taste and smell that takes you back, makes you feel warm, cosy, loved. An essential for cold, damp days when you need something solid inside that puts a smile on your face. Usually, it should be said from the beginning, with a high stodge factor.

The fish supper. A rich stew with dumplings. Macaroni cheese. And, naturally, the culinary high spot and classic pick-me-up that is the bacon sarnie. But is there really anything more comforting than a good pie? Pastry has an allure of its own, the cuddly artisan of the food world. Less a lover, more a big welcoming pair of arms to be wrapped up in and hugged by. I am in awe of the pie.

You will, if of a certain persuasion, have noticed that my brief list above was entirely savoury in nature. Fear not, I would never scorn the dessert pie, but my love is primarily directed towards the salt rather than sugary. Having said that I could never resist the charms of a lattice topped apple pie, heavy on the cinnamon and crusted with brown sugar, served with a good quality vanilla ice cream. Or rhubarb and ginger pie, or a sharp tasting lemon tart, or......

The trouble with writing about food is that it's too easy to get carried away. Especially when it comes to pies. Everyone will have their own favourite variation on the pie. Short or puff pastry? A steak pie oozing dark gravy or the solidity of the traditional pork variant? Single person pies or an acre of crisp brown topping to be divided amongst the table dwellers? Do quiches count as suitable objects of veneration for the pie aficionado? (A question I will not be brave enough to take on here. I also intend to sidestep the biggest pastry related query of them all - "Who ate all the pies?")

I speak here as a consumer of the pie world, not a producer. Although I have made the odd venture into working with pastry I have no expertise to offer. The results of my efforts have been..... let's call them 'variable'. What they had in common was a slightly frightening appearance for I bring minimal visual artistry to my cooking. The best pies should appear as objects of desire, both before and after their time in the oven. Pastry should be of of even thickness, neatly containing the steaming juices within, a deep brown glaze on puff pastry. In short (no pun intended) a great pie should look like you want a pie to look like. There is little call for pastry innovation in comfort food.

Fillings are a different matter and offer great scope to the baker's imagination. A London restaurant I've eaten in several times has an extensive and interesting list of fillings. In addition to the classic steak and ale there is chicken with gooseberries and ginger; gammon, potato and apple; lamb with apple and rosemary; game pie with a mix of pheasant, venison, wild boar and rabbit. There is even a vegetable and nut option (which for many of us would remove the 'comfort' part of the experience!), but, surprisingly, no hint of a fish pie. I have enjoyed some delicious examples of the latter over the years.

Other pies lend themselves to different variations. The standard pork pie, complete with delicious jelly, may be flavoured with herbs or contain added ingredients such as onion, cheese, apple or chutney. The humble mince pie (aka the Scotch pie) can be found topped with baked beans or mashed potato, or revamped with entirely new fillings like haggis or macaroni cheese (a stodge too far if you ask me).

So where do I sit on the pie spectrum? My tastes are eclectic, but I think I will end with a few pie memories. At school there would be occasional lunchtimes when we would walk down to the village baker and buy hot mince pies to eat on the way back. It was essential to bring along a pen or pencil.

A pen?

Yes, a pen. To gently poke a small hole in the bottom to let the grease run out, carefully holding it at arm's length to avoid fat-spattered trousers. Once degreased it was very tasty, and less likely to cause burns. Most mince pies I come across nowadays don't require the pen-poke technique, a welcome indicator of the improvements in pie-related technology.

At university the most popular lunch choice was pie, beans and chips, with the obligatory request that the kitchen staff ladle on plenty gravy. The latter sometimes contained more meat than the pie. Forget the taste, feel the price, that was a lot of filling food for the money.

The fish pie can be a true delight. It can frequently be found topped with mashed potato, which is a treat in itself, but still no match for decent pastry. I forget the exact location now, but a coastal town of course, and I still recall the taste of cod, salmon and prawns, enhanced by soft leeks, sitting in a creamy sauce and topped with the lightest of pastry. Subtlety and comfort on the one plate.

Oh, the home made pie. Is it cheating to include this one because I did contribute, creating a thick, dark filling of mince, onions and peas, flavoured with herbs and given a kick by more than a pinch of chilli. My wife then proceeded to give a pastry master class, lining a ten inch tin and covering my mixture with a neatly crimped, holed and scored shortcrust topping. It tasted as stunning as it looked.

I will finish with my most recent pie experience. All too often pub pies, and even many in restaurants like the London one mentioned previously, arrive before you in a distinctly non-traditional format. The meat and gravy resides in a pottery dish, the crust sits astride the lips of the earthenware. Two days ago I ordered steak and ale pie in a pub, prepared for that slight feeling of disappointment the pot and crust structure always provokes on arrival. But no - here was a proper pastry house of a pie, with short floor and walls and a flaky shiny roof. Big succulent chunks of meat fell apart to the prod of my fork, a rich gravy invited mopping up operations using fragments of the flour-based casement. Perhaps I was wrong before - comfort food can provide the odd orgasmic moment.

Go Forth and Trust in Shoes

I FEEL A RIGHT HEEL (WELL, I WISH I DID....)

Life is full of uncertainties. The weather, train times, plumbers who may or may not arrive, the difference between first and second class post, what politicians actually mean, that recipe you've cooked successfully ten times and suddenly tastes like something from McDonalds. We get used to not knowing from a very early age. Adults saying one thing and doing another, children tricking you into eating a 'sweet' made of soap, those dark stories about the possible non-existence of Santa. We learn to distrust much of the world, reconcile ourselves to ambiguity and anxiety, accept that bewilderment and conjecture form a large part of the fabric of our lives.

Yet there are also things we come to depend on, which provide fixed points we can rely on to give us exactly what we expect them to. Night will follow day. Rain is wet. Cats are enigmatic. Barry Cryer always has the best jokes. Tories are evil bastards. Alcohol will always be there for you. Some things just ARE.

Somewhere in between those two end points, but, you'd hope, nearer to the latter, are shoes. Now I know that people's choice of footwear can take strange turns and that, on the face of it, DMs have little, visually, in common with Jimmy Choos. The sandal does not perform quite the same functions as the desert boot and steel toecaps are not generally considered appropriate for running marathons. All these varieties have their roles in life and context determines their suitability. So if I'm going to talk sensibly about shoes then I need to provide a bit of definition. Sensibly being the key word for I am concerned here with the dreaded 'sensible' shoe.

Now 'sensible' as an adjective for 'shoe' will conjure up a diverse selection of images. For some readers it will be the black brogues your mum crammed you into to go to school. For others it means a three inch heel instead of six. One person's sense is another's torture instrument. As you go through life the attraction of 'sensible' over 'fashion' can grow considerably, often depending on how much damage 'fashion' did in the first place. Comfort means a lot more to the person who has inflicted a life of constriction and pain upon their ill-favoured tootsies. So I will now attempt to provide a definition of sensible which allows me to move my story forward.

Is there a common sense 'sensible' with reference to footgear? A few basic parameters may help. They should fit the foot of the wearer. Comfortably fit, as opposed to "Oooh, aah, yes that fits OK" complete with grimace. They should provide a bit of protection from the rain, not soak socks at the hint of a puddle. A sole with a bit of grip would be nice. And you should have no difficulty walking a mile in them (please always treat the expression "walk a mile in my shoes" as purely metaphorical). Finally, a concession to fashion, they should look like shoes should look like rather than suggesting that the wearer has slipped his feet into a couple of leftover pasties. Leather is a plus, colour your own choice. Are we there yet? I think that about covers it.

These are shoes to bring a modicum of certainty to life. Of course in time the heel will wear down, maybe a bit of stitching will start to work loose, the leather may crack and make you look like you're in that Oxfam phase of life. But there will be warnings of all these eventualities, should you choose to heed them. Sensible shoes are more reliable than our cars, but not quite as unchanging as Jeremy Clarkson's arrogance. On the whole they won't let you down.

So I set off from home this morning in a pair of shoes that I felt sure met our sensible definition. Dark brown, thick cleated soles, Clarks by name, veterans of many miles as comfortable companions. Very much winter shoes, brought out when the cold and dark and damp arrives. This was their second outing of the season and I had no augury or premonition of calamity, no reason to doubt my reliance on their assisting my progress and repelling the elements.

Within a few hundred yards I sensed doubt. The heels felt particularly spongy, springy, giving where their role should have been support. I walked on, conscious of the need to reach my destination on time. The odd feeling continued, getting less springy and more spongy, less certain and more like there were frogs in conflict with my shoes' desire to carry out their sole purpose in life. Outside the doors of the shop I was headed for I stopped and lifted a foot for inspection and beheld the horror of a crumbling heel, evidently ready to make a break for a solo existence. Further review showed the rest of the sole to be contemplating joining its rearward element in escape. Whilst the other side, I forget if I'd check left or right first, was in much the same shape. This was shoe revolt of the most serious nature.

The rest is best passed over briefly, for is there anything sadder than uncertain shoes? Both heels soon dropped off at the mildest touch and from then on my efforts to walk resulted in a trail of black lumps and the impression I was about to wet myself. I left early, disgraced by my footwear, and (literally) pained by their refusal to give me the support I thought they had promised.

Can I ever trust shoes again?

Give Us Back Our Poppy Day

WHAT IS REMEMBRANCE SUNDAY REMEMBERING?

There was a time when buying and wearing a poppy felt like the right thing to do . The purpose of the British Legion, to provide practical support for injured ex-military personnel, was admirable, particularly where those injuries were incurred during the Second World War. Whilst that aim remains one to be supported I have for several years found myself unable to wear a poppy because it feels like it would be conveying the wrong message. Remembrance Day has been hijacked for more sinister purposes by our political masters.

Once there was a sense of conveying a moral message that war was always disastrous for the participants, and innocent victims, and every possible step should be taken to avoid it. This now takes second place to building up the image of our 'heroic' armed forces with no questioning allowed of the dubious roles they undertake. There are even stories around that the event has become yet another opportunity for arms dealers to rub shoulders with senior UK politicians.

I'm far from alone in thinking this, but you wouldn't know that from the coverage of events given in the mainstream media. It now seems to be compulsory for all BBC presenters to be seen to wear a poppy on screen for several weeks before the actual day. I dislike the term 'poppy fascism', but it has become common currency in the last few years. Voices expressing dissent against the establishment viewpoint find it difficult to be heard, but they are out there, most convincing when expressed by ex-soldiers, such as Ben Griffin :

Ex-SAS man says Poppy Day is being used to justify current wars  

If you want an example of what I find most objectionable about this trend consider the words of Scotland's First Minister, Alex Salmond, on Twitter :

"This moment allows us to pay tribute to all of our servicemen and women, past and present, who have laid down their lives in defence of our country and whose sacrifice will never be forgotten."

For me the key words in that sentence are "and present" and "in defence of our country". Because I'm not aware of any UK military fatalities in my lifetime which occurred in the defence of my country. There have been many deaths of service personnel, in conflicts which involved the invasion of other countries, or in defence on Britain's dubious imperial legacy. The UK military have also been legitimately involved in peacekeeping or humanitarian roles (e.g. Bosnia) although I am not aware that any fatalities resulted from these incursions. The four major shooting conflicts in which the UK military have been involved in the last fifty years have been Northern Ireland, the Falklands, Iraq and Afghanistan.

In the euphemistically named 'Troubles' the British Army was originally involved to protect the Catholic community from increasingly violent discrimination, but ended up largely defending British occupation of it's largest remaining colonial territory. The Falklands conflict resulted from gross diplomatic mismanagement and in many ways was more about the perceived prestige of Britain (and the Tory government) in the world than 'defending' the Falkland Islanders. It should not be forgotten that the Thatcher government was so unpopular that it would almost certainly have lost the 1983 general election without the jingoistic legacy of that conflict and this was surely a consideration in the decision to go to war.

The arguments against the legality of the Iraq war have been aired often enough not to require restatement here. For this invasion to have had any legitimacy there is only one measure that matters - did it result in a positive improvement in the everyday lives of Iraqi citizens? The jury is still out on that one, but there is plenty of evidence that the biggest beneficiaries have been the shareholders of large US corporations. Meanwhile the war in Afghanistan continues after a decade, the original aims seemingly lost in obscurity. Whether it was the nineteenth century British attempts to subdue 'The North West Frontier', or the Soviet Russians or US led coalition invading modern Afghanistan history shows that this region is impossible to conquer and will have to be allowed to develop at its own pace. The Taliban continues to have a strong presence and there is no guarantee that it will not take over once again soon after the western armies depart. For now the British services remain part of a military force of invasion and occupation and are at the very least complicit in the ongoing murders of innocent Afghan and Pakistani civilians. I am disgusted that my taxes are put to this use.

Remembrance Day began in the aftermath of the horrors of the First World War, but the 'War To End All Wars' did nothing prevent an even longer and more widespread conflict twenty years later. Can our involvement in both be regarded in the same light, as a defence of Britain against oppression? That is clearly the case for the 1939 to 1945 hostilities in which a particularly evil regime gained control of one country and its predatory policy had to be resisted. The circumstances which gave rise to that situation largely arose from the wantonly vindictive policies of the French government (and others) in the aftermath of the First World War, but that does not alter the urgency of the need to directly combat evil. World War One itself cannot be deemed to be similar. This was a battle between similar evils, with imperial ruling classes on both sides exploiting their own populations as cannon fodder to further their position of power in the world. (Only the Russians managed to revolt against the tyranny imposed on them and find an early exit from the slaughter, although this did not turn out well for them in the long term....) This article gives a good explanation of this scenario and how that is now being wrongly exploited by David Cameron et al for their own political purposes :

The real lessons of World War One

There was a lot of unnecessary derision for the recent decision to award the Nobel Peace Prize to the European Union. The EU is far from perfect and is the cause of a lot of conflict - but not of the bloodletting kind. In achieving one of its original aims, to maintain peace amongst European nations, it has been astonishingly successful, to the point where it is now impossible to imagine an actual shooting war between the likes of Britain, Germany and France. If we can ignore the conflicts which followed the break up of Yugoslavia, which were largely of a civil war nature, there has been no large scale combat in Europe since 1945, almost seventy years ago. To realise just how significant that fact is try to work out when that last happened.....

Meanwhile war continues in many other parts of the world, often the direct or indirect legacy of European post-imperialism. A war death is a war death, wherever and to whomever it occurs. British victims of war, military or civilian, are no more or less important than those of other countries.

Can Remembrance Day be reclaimed? I think it can, but it needs to become not just what it once was, but something new. Yes it needs to mark the lives lost as a result of violence, but not simply those who were members of the UK's services. The deaths of the people of Dresden or the conscripts on the Belgrano are every bit as tragic as those of British military personnel. Recognising all the victims of wars in which our military have been participants would be a step forward. Ceasing to make claims that all British service people are automatically 'heroes' would be another (see the Stop The War article above). It's the horror and pointlessness of war which needs to be reinforced. Above all else remembrance should be about humanity and not a tool our politicians can use to justify their actions.