“Singing the blessing”

Fine Food with

Charles Campion

Food writer and critic

• It’s time to go left field rather than safety-first
• “Fashion or for keeps?”
• “New year and new possibilities”
• “What is in a name?”
• “The art of shopping”

Food awards come in all shapes and sizes, but it’s not often that the first job of the judges is to sing along with the “blessing of the pies” – words by the Reverend Kevin Ashby and appropriately enough set to the tune of American Pie

“So… my, my, what beautiful pies,
They’ve got a great aroma
Wafting up to the skies,
And meat or veg or fruity
We must give them a try;
We thank God for the bakers so wise,
Who have baked us all these wonderful pies.”
Amen

Food awards come in all shapes and sizes, but it’s not often that the first job of the judges is to sing along with the “blessing of the pies” – words by the Reverend Kevin Ashby and appropriately enough set to the tune of American Pie.

The venue was the impressive 12th Century St Mary’s church in the middle of Melton Mowbray, ‘The Rural Capital of Food’. Anyone who tells you that Brits are not interested in food should attend the British Pie Awards – 800 entries in 20 different classes ranging from classic pork pies to chicken or lamb pies. Football Club pies to apple pies. Pies hot and pies cold, with a special class for the ‘Queen’s Pie’ in honour of her majesty’s 90th Birthday (won by a golden pastried monster – a Victorian Corset Pork and Chicken Pie made by Walker and Son).

Then, just when everything seemed a bit “so what?” the winner of the Supreme Champion was announced and the top prize went to a beef skirt and vegetable pasty made by Cumbrian butcher A.F. Huddleston. The top table judges were bowled over by this pasty: “The winning pasty was outstanding. It looked so appealing, an even bake with a perfect glaze and a perfect crimp”. “Eating it was a delight, well balanced flavours”. Then it all kicked off, with media folk ramping up the story – how dare the judges give the Supreme Pie Award to a pasty? Gradually it emerged that for the purist there was little to separate pies from pasties. A decent pie has pastry enclosing the filling on the top, the bottom and the sides, so does a pasty. A decent pasty has a rich filling that is packed tightly and doesn’t leak out during cooking, so does a pie. Pies often have a crimped edge that seals the lid, pasties are also crimped, on top or at the side.

In the Middle Ages, pies were known as coffins and the tooth breaker pastry was not edible but served to protect the contents during travel. Long ago when British rivers were in better nick Gloucester would send a large lamprey pie up to the monarch to mark any special royal occasion. This custom was revisited in 1952 when Gloucester Council sent a lamprey pie up to Buckingham Palace – but sadly, even in the fifties, the river Severn’s lamprey stocks were in terminal decline and the “Gloucester” pie had to be filled with Canadian lampreys.

The glory of pies lies in their versatility; whether you are biting into a squelchy Balti pie at a sports ground or slicing a regal pork and chicken pie in a palace, there is a pie for every occasion and every price point. Just because your lunchtime pie’s appearance reflects its humble origins it doesn’t follow that it won’t be a gastronomic triumph. The old rule “simple is good” is as true today as it has always been. The perfect pie calls for plenty of traditionally skills and a baker who stubbornly insists on using only the best possible ingredients. It’s time we got behind our pie makers and gave them the credit that they so richly deserve. As the blessing would have it they have “a great aroma, wafting up to the skies” and that goes for pasties as well!