Dances With Chazzwazzers

Tradition dictates no trip to Wellington is complete without a visit to Trisha’s Pies on Cambridge Terrace, a Steven Finn run up away from the Basin Reserve. A picture next to the Queen Victoria statue across the road with your purchase is considered to be the done thing.

Sadly, due to technical issues or through not having enough hands, I can’t do the second part. I can, however, give you a resume of my breakfast. In readiness for the day’s play at the Test Match, a hearty repast is recommended.

They don’t get much heartier than a Steak & Cheese Pie from Trisha’s.

Sizeable, thick chunks of steak are crammed in under the flaky white pastry like commuters on the Churchgate to Andheri line. In rush hour. On Monday morning.
A joyous gloop of rich, thick sauce covers the beef, while a less generous smattering of cheese adds to the flavour. The pastry won’t win any awards except for sturdiness. Its job here is as short crust shop container for the delicious contents within.

It’s gravity defying stuff, it really is. Part of the fun of a Trisha’s pie is the wrestling with the ingredients within. Shoes, pavements and chins to name but a few are all in danger of being scattered with meaty gravy loveliness as you get further and further in. Mercifully, I complete mine without spilling a drop.

Had I failed to do so in front of my esteemed dining companion, there’s a decent chance ma’am would not have been amused….