Pull up a pew. Lets talk all things pie.

 

I bloody love a pie. Chicken and leek? Smash. Steak and Ale? Smash. Potato and Gruyere? (sounds dull but I recently had it at The Pelican in Notting Hill)... Needless to say, smash,

​

I have attempted many pies on my voyage into chefhood (n.b. don't put spring greens in your pie as the sole component. Very earthy), however I can never get them as good as my lovely Mum can. For her, food is communication. It's care. From a celebratory first meal back in the land-of-the-living post tonsillectomy, to just plain old messages of love. When I went off to Durham for uni, it merely said 'Bye'. Won't read too much into that one.

​

I won't give you the recipe, as most families have their statement pie recipe that will NEVER be altered, but it's all things poached chicken breast, caramelised leeks, peas, a creamy white sauce, topped with puff pastry (arguably controversial). Bish bash bosh. Amazing.

​

Hungry now. its 7.32am and I want a pie. Ok bye.

​

​