Pie perfectionist Stosie Madi, chef-owner at the Parkers Arms, is running through a list of things she won’t have in her kitchen: “We don’t have any machines. We could have a pastry roller and a dough mixer. Most people order in meat already cut up from the butcher, then cook it off. But we don’t.”

Instead, the pie-making at this handsome rural inn near Clitheroe, Lancashire, is reassuringly laborious. Madi buys whole animals, butchers them and renders fat from the carcasses to use in her pastry. Non-premium cuts, such as the shoulder, are then seasoned, marinated and cooked on-the-bone: “Otherwise, the flavour is too sanitised.” The meat sits in its juices overnight, before being broken down into pie filling. Co-owner Kathy Smith then uses a hot-water pastry, spiked with egg yolk to give it a light, melting quality, to hand-shape, crimp and seal every meat pie.

A pie from the Parkers Arms, near Clitheroe, Lancashire. Photograph: Parkers Arms

It is a mammoth task. Parkers can sell up to 500 pies in a busy week, such as British Pie Week (until March 11). But pies have put Parkers on the map. It was ranked eighth in last year’s Estrella Damm Top 50 Gastropubs, while the Observer restaurant critic Jay Rayner described Madi’s venison and pork pie as: “A true thing of beauty.”

Madi was born in Africa to British-Lebanese and French-Lebanese parents, and she quietly explores that heritage in her pies. A Lancashire cheese and potato pie in a buttery puff pastry is layered like dauphinoise, while Parkers’ seasonal game pie riffs on terrine en croute. A Middle Eastern-spiced pie of turnip, beetroot and spinach tops, kale and caramelised onion was inspired by Lebanese fatayer parcels.

However, Madi never forgets that she is cooking at a pub in Lancashire. The Parkers’ pies come with a choice of mash or (excellent) chips, and wear their pastry kinks with pride: “We don’t use fine moulds to make the pies look absolutely gorgeous. We’re not anti-that. But if the pie becomes too manicured and uniform, it just wouldn’t go with what we do. We’re a pub and, as Smith says, we mould with love.”

In this age of clean eating, smashed avo and spiralised veg, you may imagine that the pie’s fortunes are in terminal decline. By weight, savoury pastry consumption has fallen sharply in recent years. Greggs now sells only two pies, regionally: a savoury mince pie in north-east England and a scotch pie in Scotland. Worst of all, in 2016, the British Pie Awards – which announces its 2018 winners on Friday – crowned a pasty (yes, a pasty!) its supreme champion.

Yet, even so, the pie is proving resilient. Not just in what is lazily perceived as its northern heartland (what data there is suggests that, actually, the Midlands is pie central), and not just among chefs such as Calum Franklin, whose ornate, architecturally staggering pies at London’s Holborn Dining Room have achieved cult fame on Instagram (@chefcalum).

Certain sub-sections of the pie market, such as meat-free pies, are flying. National brand Pukka announced “record-breaking sales” earlier last month, although, in the past decade, the value of what Mintel estimates is a £1.2bn-a-year total pie market has, undoubtedly, been bolstered by the rise of posh pie-makers such as Pieminister and Higgidy.

Pie and mash from Pieminister, which turns over £14m annually. Photograph: Mike Cooper/Pieminister

Fourteen years ago, says Pieminister co-founder Tristan Hogg, the UK pie market was in a slump of soggy pastry, “mystery meat” and aging consumers: “No young people were eating pies. The market was dying.” Today, Pieminister turns over £14m annually and is growing at around 16%. It sells pies in supermarkets (for around £3.50), but is also opening hip and reasonably affordable pie and mash restaurants nationwide, as well as installing small purpose-built kitchens into pubs and bars that, historically, did not have the space to serve hot food: “We now have over 200. It’s been big for us.”

A quality product has been key to all this. Pieminister is the most visible manifestation of a larger network of small pie-makers, who, with their buttery shortcrust pastries, tasty, casserole-like fillings and emphasis on provenance and seasonality, are taking great pride in this once neglected staple. “You don’t want to eat pie every day, so it’s got to be a treat when you do,” says Neil Broomfield, founder of Cheshire’s Great North Pie Co, whose minced beef pie is laced with Bovril and beef dripping. “I still oversee everything. This isn’t about being the next Holland’s (the ubiquitous Lancashire pie company), but about taking a classic and doing it really nicely.”

Next month, Holborn Dining Room will open its Pie Room, where punters will be able to take away Franklin’s remarkable creations, such as his curried mutton pie (from £6). Born in south London (so much for the north-south pie divide!), he is “obsessive about design and proud of our British food heritage. Pies are a great outlet for both.”

Franklin finds it “quite amusing” that his work may be giving pies a certain trendy cachet. He stresses his pies are practical. They are designed to be portioned and sold in a busy restaurant. They are not exhibition pieces: “I don’t make things for Instagram. But, at the same time, it’s really cool because it means everyone’s working on hand-raised, free-standing pies and elevating what they’re doing.”

Chef Calum Franklin (centre) of the Holborn Dining Room in London Photograph: John Carey

But are they? Really? Unusually, there is no great snobbery in pies. Artisan pie-makers refuse to be drawn into slagging off their mass-produced rivals. Ultimately, different pies suit different situations. A cheap, factory-produced chicken balti pie may hit the spot on a freezing Saturday afternoon at the football, even if you would send the same pie back in a restaurant. But it is also true that, in the chippy, down the pub or at the match, such everyday pies are often poorly prepared and expensive.

Rob Spurling, a Wycombe Wanderers fan and part of the team at the review site pierate (which includes a dedicated football pie league), argues that, in his wide experience at away games, slipshod, profiteering catering firms are undermining that simple pleasure, the match-day pie: “I don’t mind a Pukka, if it’s cooked well, but football pies are generally not served at premium quality. Often, they’ve been heated for a long time and they’re dried out or burned, and paying £3.50 for a pie you could get for £1.50 at a takeaway seems overpriced.” Increasingly, Spurling finds himself drawn to “fancier, better value pies”. For instance, he rates Piglet’s Pantry, which supplies Brighton & Hove Albion, among others: “It might cost £4, but you’re getting a top pie.”

Meanwhile, the controversy of the pretend pie – a pot of casserole topped with puff pastry – rumbles on in pubs across Britain. “I always ask: ‘Is it a proper pie?’ If they say no, I don’t have it,” says chef John Molnar. “The real bottom-end is when you get pre-made microwaved pie mix and, on top, a pre-baked lid that’s like eating sawdust. Pie, mash, greens and gravy is a great pub dish, but only if it’s done well.”

Molnar’s three east Midlands’ Moleface pubs serve real pies. It is more labour intensive – did you know fresh pies need turning periodically to stop the bottoms going soggy? – and stressful. “You’ve got to grease the pie mould and hope to God it doesn’t stick,” says Molnar, but his regulars demand it. “People ask: ‘Has it got a pastry bottom?’”

Accepting anything less, particularly in British Pie Week, is sacrilege. Wherever you are and however much it costs, the least we can expect from a pie is value-for-money … and a complete pastry case.

Life of pie: five places of pie pilgrimage around the UK

Great North Pie Co, Altrincham and Ambleside



Neil Broomfield is one of the pickiest men in pastry – his slow-braised Swaledale rare breed beef and ale pie is a masterpiece. From £3.99

From Ben’s Kitchen, Gloucestershire

Ben Sibbald’s chicken, leek and parmesan pie won two gongs at the 2017 British Pie Awards. Find him at Tetbury (Wed) and Cirencester (Fri) farmers’ markets. £5

Galloways, Wigan

A pie barm, from Galloways bakers, Wigan Photograph: Galloways Bakers‏

For connoisseurs of the classic pie barm – yes, southerners, a peppery meat and potato pie in a buttered roll – a visit to a Galloways’ bakery is a must. £2.10

Morecambe Football Club

Morecambe may be hovering above the relegation places in League Two, but the club’s pies top the Pierate Pieremiership. Pastry chef Jackie Simpson confidently entered five into the 2018 British Pie Awards. £3.50

Piebald Inn, Hunmanby

This Yorkshire pub serves more than 50 types of pies, including its braised lamb Welsh Cob, once described as “the perfect pie” by chef Tom Kerridge. From £10.25