‘A pie is any crust with something in it’ this rather succinct summing up, came from the lips of Samuel Johnson, his preferred ‘something’ was hare, rabbit, or a haunch of venison that had first been doused in black ale, then married under pastry with an oxtail.
Not surprisingly it was the Ancient Greeks who first came up with the concept of using pastry as a container for baking, with the Romans taking the recipe for making it as part of the prizes when they conquered Greece.
The Roman statesman Marcus Porcius Cato so loved a good pie, he had his chef create one, which laboured under the less than appetising name of Placenta Pie. The English first called their pies Coffins, they were made with high straight sides, sealed –on-floors and lids, and topped with a pastry crust so tough it could easily have doubled as the medium with which to entomb an Egyptian bricklayer.
Nobody in those early days ever ate the crust: pie pastry was seen only as a suitable container, not something that could be eaten as part of the dish.
And a good thing too, considering the glorious excesses that lingered under the lid of some Royal pies, the Duke of Burgundy was a particularly enthusiastic pie man, he would regularly commission an immense pie to be made, then, after this monster had been wheeled into the dining room, the lid was removed and guests were greeted by the strains of 28 musicians playing from within the pie, this then heralded the popping out of a clutch of scantily clad nubile young things, accompanied by a flock of live blackbirds, frogs, rabbits, and a troupe of dwarves.
Emperor William I of Germany when he popped over to see his relative Queen Victoria, the Royal kitchens always made his favourite pie. It contained a whole turkey stuffed with a chicken, the chicken was stuffed with a pheasant, and the pheasant was in turn stuffed with a woodcock.
Not expecting anything half so grand I was lured to Larnaca, there to try out the delights on offer at the first ever, ‘proper’ pie and mash shop to be set up in Cyprus.
Now, for those who, unlike Dukes or Kings and Queens, put a high priority on the food served rather than ambiance or décor then, The Pie Company of Cyprus will suit you down to the ground.
Walking into the shop the decor is instantly noticeable by its total absence; the whole place is as functional and as exciting as eating inside a Tupperware box with rather dusty windows. The establishment is jointly owned by a rather kinder and more mature Beavis and Butthead duo, with Eamon McGeehan the head chef and pastry maker, and John Hayward, who does a grand job as greeter, barman and occasional philosopher, both men are in total keeping with their surroundings, being chaps mercifully bereft of any affectation or artifice. As an added bonus, here, there is absolutely no fear that your food will arrive at your table so over designed that it looks like the inside of David Beckham’s sponge bag. This is not, and (hopefully) never will be, the restaurant equivalent of Gap.
Eamon, who sails round his kitchen like a ship’s bust on castors, is a jolly chap, happy doing what he likes doing, and even happier when customers comment favourably on his pastry making, for his is a basic tried and tested art form. He delivers on a plate traditional flavours, that are wholesome, and very good value for money, with a steak and ale/ kidney/Guinness/mushroom, or chicken and parsnip, pork and cider or lamb and mint pie on the menu, all accompanied by the very best mashed potatoes I have tasted in a long time. These were further enhanced — if that’s possible — by a topping of delicious liquor (that’s luminous green parsley sauce). You also get a good side serving of fresh vegetables, and all for the bargain price of £3.00. John sees to the drinks and chats to the customers, though his personal taste in beverages does leave a lot to be desired — he promotes the virtues of a locally made (under licence from the UK), particularly fiendish brew that sells under the apt name of Witches’ Brew. Suffice to say, one can readily imagine after one sip how warm rhino pee might taste, but, there are also stocks of more commonly known beers and bottles of Island vines for those with a more discerning palate.
A Sunday roast lunch with grand Yorkshire puddings is available for £3.95, Eamon also extends his pie making skills to puddings, again we have no great culinary surprises except that everything tastes jolly good, especially the cherry pie with hot creamy home made custard, this ‘much better than school dinners pudding’ comes in at only £1 and is light enough not to make you feel totally zonked out for the rest of the afternoon.
The Pie Company has a regular clientele of ex pat-pie hungry aficionados, and lunch there on a Sunday does somewhat resemble an open casting for the movie ‘Miss Haversham does Dallas’, as the tables groan with ladies of a certain age all looking like mad sensual bears with terrifying fingernails, hair like erect busbies — the only noise heard is the clanking of the costume jewellery as they contentedly dig into their meal, while between forkfuls they reminisce about pies their Grandmother used to make.
All I can say is go there and try it out for yourselves. Its definitely different, no where in a million years is it a ‘posh venue’ but, hell, that’s the nature of a pie and mash shop. The kitchen looks well up to passing strict EU standards, the dining area is clean, the plates are always boiling hot (the ladies’ loo has perhaps ruined the general feel of the place by sporting a vase of tastefully arranged dried flowers atop the cistern) but regardless of that frippery, the Pie Company offers sheer simplicity, quality and value for money. This may well be served in a place that looks about as sexy and attractive as a man in a brown suit, but there again always remember you should never judge a pie by its crust alone.
The Pie Company of Cyprus
Selling English Traditional Quality Pies
34 Griva Digeni
Tamakon Court
Larnaka 6045
Tel 99 963 384
Open six days a week for lunch and evenings closed Mondays.
Take Away service available.
