There’s a distinct nip in the air this week that makes makes me suddenly feel much less like eating summery food. Last night we went round to friends and shared some absolutely awesome steak pies they’d brought back from a butcher called Murray Mitchell in St Andrews in Scotland (they will send them by mail order in the UK apparently if you ring them on 01334 474465).
They’re incredibly plain (the pies, not our friends) - great chunks of beef, rich gravy and a crisp, flaky pastry made from lard rather than butter. (Classic heart-attack fodder, in other words but that's the Scots for you! I convince myself they're harmless as an occasional indulgence.)
We drank a bottle of Faugères, a hearty red wine from the Languedoc, with them which worked very well but I’ve also had them before with a good strong English ale such as Fuller’s ESB or Young’s Special London Ale which I think is probably the better match. Beer, gravy and pastry is always a sure-fire hit.