Pie And Mash: The Epitome of British Cuisine

It came to my attention recently, that despite living in London for over 2 years now, I had never ventured through those hallowed doors into a pie and mash shop. Pie and Mash being the standard London meal, I felt this would not do, and five minutes of investigation showed I had such an establishment down the road from me in Tooting.

Boom.

So off I trotted after a morning of hard work not listening to my lecturer, and arrived to the little, slightly run down looking caff called Harrington’s. The windows were steamed up and the doors closed tight against the pouring rain; at first I thought it was closed so I was relieved when I made my way in to find it reasonably busy. 

The woman who served me was brusque but friendly, throwing together my pie, mash and parsley ‘licker’ quickly. The pies had been cooked that day and were still hot from the oven, and the parsley sauce loosened up the mash beautifully.

I wasn’t ready to face the jellied eel, although I came close enough given the parsley sauce is made with the water the eels are stewed in! But sitting at that bench with the women behind the counter chatting amiably way, salt and vinegar on the tables and the tiled walls, it was easy to feel I’d slipped back in time. From old men who’ve been visiting the same place for 50 years for their fix of pie and mash to young families who pop in for the warm, cosy and traditional feel of the place – its universally loved. And cheap with my meal clocking in at roughly 3 quid. 

It was warming and homey and everything you could ask for from pie and mash.

I will be returning, and hopefully pie shop hopping around London. This new area needs to be explored to the fullest. I want to eat all the pies I can. ALL THE PIES. 

Image

Oh, there’s a picture of the pie. Wasn’t exactly the most beautifully presented plate, but that wasn’t really the point any how. Trust me when I say it tasted better than it looked. 

Don’t look at me like that. It did. 

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