Sophie Conran’s Pies. David Loftus
thought tortoises had no need of another shell, but they were indeed further encased in pastry. And of course we all remember the nursery rhyme from our childhood:
Sing a song of sixpence,
A pocket full of rye;
Four-and-twenty blackbirds
Baked in a pie.
When the pie was opened,
The birds began to sing.
Wasn’t that a dainty dish
To set before the King?
Can you imagine the commotion? As the pie was cut open the blackbirds flew around the King’s banqueting hall, up and around the rafters, extinguishing candles as they flapped over them, birds squawking, people screaming, and a pampered King clutching his sides with delight. Yet this fairytale scene is not as far-fetched as it sounds. There has been a long tradition of live animals and even people being “baked” into pies or, rather, inserted into a pre-baked pie case and later released to entertain and astonish guests (a bit like the modern-day novelty of scantily clad models bursting out of birthday cakes). Think of the impressive structural quality to a pie, the mystery of what lies within, and that moment of revelation as you cut into it; little wonder serving a pie can so easily be transformed into a moment of theatre.
One of the best historical pie stories I’ve read about involved a castle-shaped pie at one end of a table with a ship at the other, and a fierce battle between them. The theatre didn’t end there however. A loin of venison was encased in a crust sculpted into the shape of a deer with an arrow in its side. When the arrow was removed, rich blood-red claret poured out. In those grand old days, an indicator of what was within would be proudly stuffed and displayed on the top of the pie: a whole peacock or swan, for example. Sometimes, the legs of whatever the pie was filled with would be left sticking out the sides to act as handles! You will find the recipes in this book a little less extravagant, and I wouldn’t suggest such shocking decoration, but whatever takes your fancy . . .
Pies have been the food of kings and of paupers, eaten at extravagant banquets or taken down Cornish tin mines (the origin of the pasty), and there was a time when the streets of every town across the land would have been filled with the shouts of pie sellers. Yet in recent years the reputation of pies has suffered greatly in the public imagination, largely due to the many food crimes committed in its name. Pies have become associated with unhealthy, mass-produced snacks made from the otherwise unwanted parts of animals: the grisly and knobbly bits, encased in a tasteless, processed shell which coats your mouth in fat. But a pie is only as good as the quality of its ingredients, and happily there now seems to be a pie renaissance underway with lots of new companies producing fabulous pies, baking only the best fillings under the lid.
Pies are great for entertaining, as they can be prepared days in advance and make a fabulous centrepiece. They are also a great way of using up leftovers, transforming them from yesterday’s roast into steaming loveliness. And they freeze well too. Regardless of calorie count, I cannot think of anything so wholesome and nurturing for children, so comforting as a treat or so perfect for a big occasion as a well-made pie.
Pies are very social dishes and for this reason I have included numerous recipes written by family and friends. They are all about sharing and as such encapsulate some of the greatest joys in life. A pie makes an excellent gift. You will be very popular with friends if you bring one along when staying for the weekend (one less meal for your host to cook). During the days and nights of writing this book I have cooked hundreds of pies, baking on average about three different flavours a day. My kitchen has been groaning with pies and being the offspring of two war babies I loath waste, so every visitor or person I have visited has had at least one pie pressed upon them. I can often been found with a pie in the bottom of my handbag, just in case I see a hungry-looking friend. They have always been delighted to receive it.
I hope you enjoy cooking from this book, getting it dirty, splattering it with ingredients. I hope you enjoy the smells, the sound of gentle bubbling, the peace of mixing and rolling the pastry, the excitement of fetching a pie from the oven. But most of all I hope you enjoy sharing the results of your labours with those that you love.
Pastry is as easy as pie. It really is a doddle. It’s just a simple mixture of flour, fat and liquid to bind.
Use a nice fine flour; the best you can lay your mitts on. I like to use natural fats in my pastry, avoiding anything containing hydrogenated vegetable fats such as margarine and some shortenings. Admittedly, these do make pastry easier to work with, as they melt at a higher temperature and don’t become as oily, but they’re difficult to digest and I personally think they taste foul. Butter and suet, on the other hand, are whole foods. The body recognises them and can digest them easily. I use butter for shortcrust pastry, which makes a wonderful, light, biscuit-like pastry. Suet makes a pastry that’s really easy to handle. I’ve found it holds its shape the best too as it does not shrink or crumble. If you’re a novice try a suet crust as it is pretty foolproof.
Pastry is usually made up from approximately two-thirds flour, one-third fat and enough liquid to bind it. The quantities you will need may vary as may the type of flour, fat or liquid used. Have a play. You can also add any flavour you like: spices, cheese, herbs, horseradish, mustard (English mustard powder is great mixed into a cheesy pastry; grainy mustard adds a great texture), and even vegetables or bacon can be added to savoury pasty, just like bread. For sweet pastries, try sugar, honey, spices like vanilla, cinnamon or nutmeg, rosewater, dried fruit, or herbs such as lavender and even crystallised petals. Let your imagination be your guide, but make sure what you add complements the filling and enhances the flavour. When adding an extra ingredient be mindful of the consistency of the pastry – some ingredients can dry it out, while others make it too sticky. This can be fixed by adding either a little flour or a little liquid.
Stay chilled
Keeping everything as cold as possible (including bowls, hands and ingredients) makes for the best pastry. That said, I have a warm kitchen and warm hands, supposedly two of pastry’s biggest enemies, but I still manage to make perfectly decent pastry. Some people suggest putting everything in the fridge for an hour before starting. If the fat becomes too warm it will melt and be absorbed into the flour too much, which prevents the flour from absorbing enough water, and the result is pastry that’s too crumbly and difficult to roll. This is particularly the case if you are working with a pastry with a high fat content, like puff pastry.
If the pastry is greasy and heavy once cooked, you will have overworked it, or it got too hot before cooking and the fat melted. Body heat and overworking can cause the fat to melt, so keep cool and handle it as little as possible. One way to avoid this problem is to mix the pastry in a food processer, which is also super speedy. I still love making pastry by hand, though; rubbing the butter into the flour is really therapeutic. My daughter, Coco, loves measuring out ingredients and getting her little hands stuck into the flour.
Watch your liquid
The more liquid you add, the more the pastry shrinks when cooked. So, if you take it out of the oven and it’s done just that and is also quite tough, you’ll know how to solve it next time: just reduce the amount of liquid. On the other hand, pastry needs liquid to react with the flour to lengthen the gluten strands, so if you haven’t added enough