Читать книгу Sophie Conran’s Pies - David Loftus - Страница 6

What is a pie? Sounds like a simple question, but over the years pies have been and still are many varied things, so for a definition I’d say the looser the better. How about a baked dish with some sort of filling, often with a pastry casing or top, though sometimes not? The word “pie” (or “pye”) itself is derived from the Middle English for magpie and it’s easy to see why.Just like this avaricious bird storing precious objects in its nest, the cook can pack a pie with all manner of surprises. Pies can be savoury or sweet, enclosed or open, with pastry, or not, the right way up or even upside down. Pies helpfully are often called a pie but sometimes it’s a pasty, a quiche, pudding, tart or even a cake.

Big or small, pies are wonderfully difficult to define. The term “pie” is used to describe dishes that aren’t pies at all but confections, and their adjunct can describe their filling or not. An Eskimo pie is my favourite offender being neither a pie nor containing a single shred of Eskimo. It is, in fact, an oblong of ice cream covered in chocolate. So, in keeping with the rebellious nature of pies everywhere, I’ve sneaked some controversial ones into this book!

I used to believe it was the Greeks who had invented pies but as I delved further I found references suggesting that it was in fact the Egyptians, with bakers to the pharaohs wrapping nuts, honey and fruits inside a bread dough. It seems the Egyptians kindly passed the pie idea to the Greeks who thoughtfully originated pie pastry. When the Romans ran roughshod over the Greeks, they appropriated this delicacy and triumphantly delivered it home.

Once the pastry case had been invented there really was no limit to what could be baked inside. Fast forward to the thirteenth century and find reference to a tortoise pie from an anonymous Andalusian Cookbook which starts, “simmer the tortoises lightly in water”. You would have 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.