This was the week that lock down began to bite. This happened in the most middle-class way possible after I discovered, late on a Saturday afternoon, that I didn't have all the ingredients I needed for the majestic pork pie I was planning. This became both a blessing and a curse.
A blessing because I decided we should walk to our great local butcher (about two and a half mile round trip, up a vertical hill), and a curse as we have gone there every weekend since. Completely derailing project #eatthefreezer and actually managing to contribute to the original problem. Ironically, they also sell extremely good pork pies. And scotch eggs and sausage rolls, if you're into that sort of thing.
I've made a hand raised pie before, a fancy number with chicken and apricots, but this time I went back to the old school with the pork pie from Jane Grigson's seminal English food. First published in 1974, and updated by Grigson in 1990, a year before her death, it's an anthology that celebrates and resurrects the reputation of English food, with recipes that range from rib-sticking puddings, pies and stews to summery soups, seafood and salads.
Alongside the classic mix of pork belly (Grigson actually uses spare rib, but obviously I didn't ready the recipe properly before setting off (really? that's unusual darling - TE)) and green streaky bacon, I added a couple of chicken thighs (to make up the weight) and chopped the meat and fat by hand for a chunkier texture. I also added a little allspice, cinnamon and nutmeg, as per Grigson's recipe. She calls for the addition of anchovy essence, and so I added a scant teaspoon of Gentleman's Relish, a gift from some foodie friends.
Jelly in a pork pie is a controversial thing, which I think most of us come to appreciate more as we get older. Grigson has a recipe for a traditional jelly, with split pigs trotters, but I decided I lacked the dedication to boil bones for hours to make something that will most likely be discarded on the edge of a plate and so plumped for stock, set with some leaves of gelatin. Originally I was going to use chicken, but I found some porcini stock cubes from a recent trip to Sicily, that I thought would add a heady, savoury note and turned out to be an inspired addition.
Of all the pastries, I think a hot water crust is by far the easiest. Melt the fat (lard, or a lard and butter mix) with water, then stir into flour and salt. The pastry can then be pushed up the sides of a loose bottomed cake tin, or fancy pie mould if you have one, leaving about a quarter to roll out for the lid, and that's about it. The lard adds a lovely crispness and a savoury edge and the pastry, with a little help from a beaten egg brushed on top, should bronze like a daytime TV presenter.
While the recipe may appear intimidatingly long, it's really very easy to follow, and the results are very impressive. Plus it tastes far better than a mass produced pie ever could. Although, I must confess I still have a fondness for the pink-paste stuffed pastry snacks, picked up from motorway service stations.
Hand raised pork pie
Adapted from Jane Grigson's English Food
For the filling
750g pork belly, shoulder or spare rib
250g streaky green bacon
250g skinless boneless chicken thighs (or just use 1kg of pork)
1 tsp salt
1 tsp black pepper
1 tsp Gentleman's Relish (or anchovy essence)
1/4 tsp ground allspice
1/4 tsp ground cinnamon
1/4 tsp grated nutmeg
Large sprig of thyme, finely chopped
for the pastry
500g flour
175g lard
200g water
large pinch of salt
1 beaten egg
for the stock
1 stock cube (porcini, ham or chicken)
2 leaves gelatin, soaked in cold water for 5 minutes
400ml boiling water
For the best texture chop the pork into small cubes, about 5mm in size. Or you could chop half, then whizz the other half briefly in the food processor.
Finely chop the bacon and chicken (if using)
Mix the thyme, salt, pepper and spices into the chopped meat.
Make the pastry
Put the lard and water into a saucepan and bring to the boil.
Sift the flour and the salt into a large bowl.
Pour the hot lard and water into the flour, mix well then leave until cool enough to handle.
Don't allow to cool down too much, or you won't be able to shape it.
Pre-heat oven to 180C. Lightly grease and flour a 18 cm loose-bottomed cake tin.
Take a quarter of the pastry and roll it into a lid that will fit the top of the cake tin.
Place the the remaining pastry in the base of the tin, and then firmly push the dough up the sides with your fingers. If it slides down, leave it to cool a bit more. patch up any tholes otherwise the jelly will leak out.
Spoon the filling into the tin and press it down. It should come almost to the top of the pastry.
Brush the edges of the pastry above the meat with beaten egg. Lower the lid into place and press tightly to seal with the edges. Poke a small hole in the lid (I used the handle of a wooden spoon) to let out the steam and put the tin on a baking sheet.
Bake for 30 minutes, then lower the heat to 160C and bake for 60 minutes until the pastry is pale gold. Brush with the beaten egg and return to the oven for 30 minutes (the temperature should read 65c in the centre of the pie). Cover with foil if the top is browning too fast.
When the pie has cooled, add the boiling water to the stock cube and stir until dissolved.
Add the gelatin leaves and stir again.
Allow the mixture to cool a little and then, using a funnel, slowly pour the stock into the hole in the top of the pie. You may have to do this in stages to give the stock time to work it's way through the pie filling and settle .
Leave the pie to cool in the fridge, preferable overnight.
Serve with English mustard and a glass of bitter.
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