Steak pie and strong ale

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.

Chicken pot pie and perry

In the wake of the great cider boom that has gripped the UK over the past year or so perry - which is cider made from pears - is also undergoing a renaissance. Typically drier than cider it goes well with the sort of dishes with which you’d drink a light dry white wine like a Chenin Blanc or a Chardonnay.

The other night I enjoyed a half pint of draught Weston’s Herefordshire Country Perry with an absolutely exemplary organic chicken, leek and mushroom pot pie at my new local The Kensington Arms in Bristol which turns out to be a real gem. The sauce was creamy with just a hint of mustard, a bitter note which stopped the dish being over-rich and brought out all the flavour in the perry. It also took a side dish of strong, irony fresh spinach in its stride.

Other dishes - a chunky terrine of chicken and veal with pistachios and onion chutney, a very crabby crab linguine, some rich, gamey faggots (meatballs made with offal) served with cauliflower cheese and Guinness gravy, and an intensely blackcurranty summer pudding were first rate. And we’ll certainly be back for the fish and hand-cut chips which we eyed covetously on the next door table.

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