Sunday pies

THERE is something comforting and very English about a good old pie.

I’m very fond of them – especially on a Sunday, when, after the housework, we succumb to an easy-cook, shop-bought, frozen pie.

I just pop it into the oven – a rather nice chicken pie today, although we’re just as partial to a well-made steak and kidney, or even something fishy.

I insist, though, that our choices are well-made, not just those cheap, weak and watery things you can sometimes get at “bargain” prices.

If I could, I’d make my own pies and freeze them, ready for Sunday use, but unfortunately I don’t do pastry – I don’t have the hands for it.

My Good Lady has – cold hands – and she does excellent pastry, and sometime I do prevail on her to rustle us up some tasty Cornish pasties, or a succulent chicken and vegetable pastry.

For some reason, for me, the art of pastry-making doesn’t really appeal, so I shall continue to stock the freezer up with good-quality shop-bought treats to enjoy on our quick-cook Sundays.