Piekus

Made my second pie in as many weeks. Both have been plate pies, made with shortcrust pastry. That is the best kind of pie you can have, in my humble pie opinion. Unless it's a pork pie, which is a different kettle of fish (or, at least, a different kind of pie).

Anyway, the last pie I made was rabbit, in tribute to the sad demise of classic musical duo Chas and Dave. The latest one was chicken, using the leftovers from Sunday's roast (it is a recession, y'know).

So, there I was, standing in the kitchen rubbing butter into flour and gazing wistfully out of the window at the newly trained jasmine, when inspiration came to me. In a flash. Like it does. That's when I started making up haikus about pies; piekus, if you will.

Here's a selection of the tasty morsels. Let me know what you think.

Pieku #1: Prize Pies
Pastry case, golden
Glaze. Crimped, pimped: three leaves, two slits.
Fit for first, this one.

Pieku #2: Mind The Gap
Meat and potato.
Chicken, mushroom, leek; steak n'ale.
Pork, mustard on't side.

Pieku #3: On A Theme By Queen
I want a pie. I
Want a pie. I want a pie.
And I want it now.

Pieku #4: Not My Type
Shortcrust. Suet. Puff.
Plate pie. Pudding. Vol-au-vent.
Well, each to their own.

Pieku #5: Lady Killer
"You're too damn flaky,"
Shrilled the woman, knife in hand,
Expertly stabbing.

Pieku #6: Man Slaughter
"You're a right pudding,"
He muttered under his breath,
Then dug in sharp teeth.

Pieku #7: After The Beatles
I am the pie man.
I am the pie man. I am
The pieman. Coo-coo-ki-choo.

(Copyright Clare Conlon, as if you were going to nick this rubbish.)