Granted, I picked up my Beloved
from the train straight from work and headed off to the pub with her, and we
were home slightly after seven o’clock, but in and of itself, despite being a
small step back out into the world, this was still a giant leap for us.
This was all because it was
“National Pie Week” and the various pubs, restaurants, shops and pie-makers of
this great land of ours had come together during a week already associated with
another Great British Food Institution – “Pancake Day” – and the start of the
period of Lent, which is, of course, usually associated with a certain amount
of restraint, to celebrate the general brilliance that is the Great British
Pie.
On reflection, perhaps they might
have chosen a better week.
Anyway, for the particular
pub/restaurant that we headed off towards, their marketing had obviously paid
dividends because without their electronic mailshot, I probably would not have
even noticed that “National Pie Week” or “British Pie Week” (or whatever it
was that they chose to call it) was actually
happening.
In fact, I actually thought that
they were making it up, that this was merely some kind of made up marketing
nonsense, a ploy designed to artificially build up trade, but, a brief internet
search proved that, despite some confusion over what it is actually referred to
as, “Pie Week” itself is actually a “thing” and so, when the email turned up,
our venture out into the world of pie-eating was almost guaranteed.
This is the double-edged result
of being on a mailing list from one of your favourite eateries. It’s all very
well to fill in the little card at the end of the evening because you’ve had a
great evening, but your inbox will then get occasional notifications of other
potentially great evenings that you hadn’t previously even considered, which
can seem quite tempting, and end up dipping unexpectedly into the monthly funds.
Granted, in general, we are able
to resist these siren songs. Most of the exciting entertainments on offer are
entirely resistible, even when the menus look good, although we do have a
weakness for the “taster menu” nights which pop up from time to time.
Anyway, a few minutes after
leaving the station, we were sitting in our pub of choice and ordering our “Pie
and a Pint” meals from their special “Pie Week” menu, although I then had to
watch as the Beloved drank both of the
pints of real ale which turned because I was driving and sniffily partook of my
usual Diet Coke...
The way that the “Red Lion” had
approached “Pie Week” was to offer two different alternative pies alongside
their standard Cheese & Onion option on each night of the week.
On the particular night we were
there, these included both Pork and Lamb options, alongside with the Pigeon Pie
that was being offered as a starter on the other menu.
But, to preserve a certain amount
of mystery about my life, and to try and prove my belief that you really don’t
have to share absolutely everything about your life with everyone, I’m not
going tell you which pies we chose (Although, you’d probably be able to work
it out quite easily from the attached photograph anyway, because I’m nothing if
not hypocritical when it comes to such things.) Anyway, the point is that it was a mighty fine pair of pies which we
ate for our dinner that evening, and they were very much enjoyed.
Other far more capable writers
than I am might now attempt to amuse you with tales of the potted history of
the pie, stories of pie-eating competitions, or even with the history of “Pie Week”
itself, but I'm not going to do that to you just to increase my measly
word-count and pretend that I know far more about pies than other, more eminent
pie-based web pages could tell you about at the flick of a search engine,
should you wish to explore further.
No, all I want to do now is sit
back, loosen my belt, and savour the memory and taste of a mighty fine pie.
“Pie Week…” I hope that you found
a way to celebrate it somehow, too.
I love pie. That is all.
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