At the end of May, I endured a day of air travel in an attempt to (inter alia) escape the winter set to befall the southern hemisphere and instead enjoy a northern hemisphere summer, if only for a short while. Somewhat foolishly, in that regard at least, I ventured first to London, and thus was met with not-quite-summer (the weather was generally fine, I shouldn’t be too critical).
I landed at Heathrow, waited an inordinate amount of time for my baggage to arrive via the conveyor belt (witnessing about three instances of the system breaking down so as to extend the delay), made my way to the tube wherein I took the Picadilly Line, before finally arriving at my hotel. I felt putrid–the time spent in the aircraft environment was not kind to my sense of my own hygiene. Filth, everywhere. No less my mouth, subjected to multiple airline meals without any brushing of the teeth, not so much as a chewed gum.
I cleansed myself. I scrubbed away the detritus, expelled the self-loathing with hot water, steam, soap–at last, I brushed my teeth, the mint toothpaste a glorious sensation, finally. The mouthwash topped it all off.
Now that I was clean, I was prepared to explore the city. I had left at 8pm AEST, arrived in Hong Kong at 3am local time, and then arrived in the UK capital at about 4pm local time. This timeline meant I was out of sorts. But not so out of sorts as to deny myself a visit to a pub. T’was the first of many pubs on the trip. But this is a pie blog, not a pub blog, and so I shall not dwell on that thought.
I, and the two companions up with whom I met in Lun-dun, sallied forth to the tube station in search of the Elephant and Castle in the Kensington locality (not in Elephant and Castle, which I understand to be a locality in its own right, and a shit one at that). After waiting a ludicrous amount of time for the circle line or the northern line or the who-fuck-knows-which line, we were on our way. A couple of stops and a short walk later and there we were–the promised pub.
The place was bursting at the seams, the local white collar workers having made their way in numbers to imbibe and engage in polite conversation with their colleagues/get smashed after work. We procured drinks and then bade our time, striking once a table inside freed up.
Ah, the menu… fish and chips … sausage and mash … pie! To be specific, the Steak & Nicholson’s Pale Ale Pie (£16.50, served with mashed potato, gravy, and veg–The Elephant and Castle is a Nicholson’s establishment, Nicholson’s being proprietors of a large number pubs in London and the UK more broadly–I was in fact in the presence of a former employee of Nicholson’s, this very pub in fact, who fiendishly sought out these pubs for their cask ale in particular). This was just the ticket after the long journey–what better way to settle in to my new surrounds than gorging myself on pie?

The pie was quite the sight to behold. A large, rectangular object, distinct from the pies one typically finds in the antipodes. This was an imposing beast of a pie.
I got stuck in without delay. The pastry was nothing special, it plainly had a practical function. The structural integrity of this pie was obvious to all who came before it–this was a sturdy thing.
But it was no match for my voracious appetite. And so I penetrated the perfectly adequate case, reaching the beefy insides. The filling was beef bits rather than minced meat, though not chunky steak. Also there was onion. The filling was mild and uncomplicated, there wasn’t much else going on. Unfortunately it was a bit under-seasoned, but the gravy on the side made up for this. In the end, this was an enjoyable enough pie, without being anything particularly special.

One of my companions (the ex-employee) had the same. When asked for his verdict, he proferred the two-word response ‘fucking excellent’.
My other companion had opted for the vegan pie offering–the Puy Lentil & Vegetable Cottage Pie (£16.50). This was apparently most satisfying, having an impressive umami quality for lentils.
The menu at the Elephant and Castle features one further pie (a chicken pie) and otherwise has what appears to be standard British pub food. The Steak & Nicholson’s Pale Ale Pie also appears to be present at a number of other Nicholson’s establishments which serve food.
It was a most pleasant experience and a good time was had by all. As it turned out, it was the only pie for the trip. Very decent but, based on this experience, I think we have the poms beat, not only in the Ashes, but also for pies.



















