The naming of the pie
I'll keep this brief.
Once in a while I find myself involved in a conversation about what a pie actually is.
Picture the scene. I invite you round for a bite to eat. I make a classic white sauce, season it, add some chopped parsley, perhaps some lemon juice. Then I fold in some white fish and probably some glorious smoked fish from Cley Smokehouse. I'll have made this in my blue Le Crueset casserole. I'll top the fish with mashed potato, run a fork over it in a hither and thither pattern to make some mini peaks and dot with butter in the hope that the mini peaks with go bro
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