I was preparing for the worst.
I had prepared for the fact that I would probably have to take three children to the bottle shop to buy my can of Guinness. It’s always a good look to have as many children as possible with you when you are buying booze.
|Anything topped with pastry is my friend (image courtesy Jason Thomas)|
I had also prepared for the fact that I would spend hours cooking and that no one under the age of ten would look twice at dinner. It would be brown and chunky. It would have obvious chunks of mushroom. It would be difficult to convince them that the meat was ‘chicken’.
Imagine my surprise that neither of these worst case scenarios came to pass.
First I got to pop into the Bottle-O on my own (where I had a lovely chat with the bloke who runs it, with whom I am practically on a first name basis. Cough. He asked me where my kids were.)
Since it was a single can of Guinness, I simply stuck it in my handbag. I realised afterwards that it looked a bit suss, either that I pinched it, or that I was a bit of a drunk. Only one of those is true.
I remember having Guinness Pie almost two decades ago, with a good friend who frequented his local Irish pub with gusto. He introduced me to Guinness Pie that night, but I actually think that what I made was even better. I just wish I could have shared it with him.
However, I am pleased to say that my children ate this pie with gusto. Surprisingly so, since it’s not really a good looking pie: brown, with brown lumps and brown gravy.
But there are some surprise ingredients: red wine vinegar, Worcestershire sauce, seeded mustard, tomato paste and best of all: cranberry sauce.
Ok, I didn’t actually have cranberry sauce, but I had been to Ikea so I had an almost full jar of Lingonberry jelly. Same thing, right?
Oh, and did I mention the bacon? This is how I got my kids to eat the pie in the first place. I told them it was bacon pie.
|Is there any better way to start a meal than with bacon and onion?|
Then when I tipped the requisite 300ml into the frypan with the bacon and chuck steak it fizzed up rather alarmingly and I thought I would be cleaning it off the floor, but it subsided.
|This was the last photo in the sequence, the others were blurry and steamy as the beer threaten to takeover the entire kitchen|
The recipe suggests simmering everything over a low heat for an hour and a half, but I have trust issues. Not sure if it’s my stovetop I don’t trust or me I have problems with. I felt more secure popping the whole thing into a casserole and letting it cook in the oven for a couple of hours.
When the pie was safely cooking in the oven I glanced over at the almost empty can of beer. It would be a shame to waste it I thought, and it was after twelve o’clock. I took a small sip.
Bleugh. I hoped the pie doesn’t actually taste of Guinness, I thought.
I briefly considered using a mashed potato topping instead of puff pastry (for ‘health reasons’), but then I remembered who I was. I topped it with pastry and had the mash on the side.
This was my finished pie. Doesn’t look too bad, does it.
|Would have been even better if the pastry overlapped the sides|
It was a winner. All those interesting flavours luckily combined to make a slightly sweet genuinely moreish pie, that everyone ate and thank god, didn’t actually taste of Guinness.