Pies I've Spied

A journey through the crust.

This is what an Australian meat pie looks like. Ok, so it’s a posh one from this place, but my what deliciousness are to be found under that thick crusty exterior. Chunks of stewed beef and fresh diced vegetables - even thinking about pies like this makes me homesick. The only thing lacking was a squeeze of tomato sauce - remember that for next time, gracious hosts! I’m a fan of the ol’ chicken vegetable or country chicken pie, too, but they’re not for everyone. Purists will say the only true pie is the traditional meat pie of the Four n’ Twenty/buy it at the footy variety. Apparently a former Australian pollie once called it the National Dish. But there are lots of variations on the theme.
My dad is obsessed with steak and kindey pie (gross) and when I was little my mum taught me how to make a version of Shepherd’s Pie which, weirdly, we called Hamburger Casserole. These are all things from home - the other home - way down the bottom of the earth. 
Everyone has different ways of eating meat pies. If I have time, space and utensils, I like to slice off the roof of the pie, eat the filling, munch on the casing before returning to the more delicate, flaky top. It’s a comforting ritual to perform. Otherwise, I just hold it in my hand and eat it in a few gulps. The pie is not a lady like dining pursuit.

This is what an Australian meat pie looks like. Ok, so it’s a posh one from this place, but my what deliciousness are to be found under that thick crusty exterior. Chunks of stewed beef and fresh diced vegetables - even thinking about pies like this makes me homesick. The only thing lacking was a squeeze of tomato sauce - remember that for next time, gracious hosts! I’m a fan of the ol’ chicken vegetable or country chicken pie, too, but they’re not for everyone. Purists will say the only true pie is the traditional meat pie of the Four n’ Twenty/buy it at the footy variety. Apparently a former Australian pollie once called it the National Dish. But there are lots of variations on the theme.

My dad is obsessed with steak and kindey pie (gross) and when I was little my mum taught me how to make a version of Shepherd’s Pie which, weirdly, we called Hamburger Casserole. These are all things from home - the other home - way down the bottom of the earth. 

Everyone has different ways of eating meat pies. If I have time, space and utensils, I like to slice off the roof of the pie, eat the filling, munch on the casing before returning to the more delicate, flaky top. It’s a comforting ritual to perform. Otherwise, I just hold it in my hand and eat it in a few gulps. The pie is not a lady like dining pursuit.

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