As some of you may know, I'm partial to the occasional pie. But where did this partiality come from you may wonder? Well, for the answer to that, we have to go back to May 2003.
I was a young backpacker, off in search of adventure, fun and frolics and just off the plane at the lovely Kingsford Smith Airport in Sydney, Australia. I had just checked into my youth hostel in the rather dubious district of Sydney known as Kings Cross, and then feeling quite ravenous, off I went in search of food.
Fast forward a few wrong turns, dead ends and a rather longer walk than it should have been, and you'll find me standing outside Harry's Cafe de Wheels in the rather fun to say suburb of Sydney called, Woolloomooloo. For those who haven't been to Sydney, Harry's is an institution. I didn't know it then of course, I was fresh meat just arrived from Fiji with all the other backpackers, but I would soon find out why.
Imagine the perfect meat pie. Flaky, crusty pastry. Deep, dense meaty filling. Then add to that some lovely mash, some tangy mushy peas and a dollop of beautiful gravy and you have the tiger pie (see picture above). I ordered my tiger pie, sat down by the water in Woolloomooloo (try saying that after a couple of pints) and my life was changed forever. I'd tasted heaven. This was now my all-time favourite meal. If I was on death row tomorrow and I had to choose my last meal, it would be that.
Fast forward a few months and I'm living in Glebe (a much nicer suburb of Sydney) and coincidently, not that far from Ultimo where Hannah's Pies was located (a litttle factoid: Hannah's Pies makes the pies for Harry's Cafe de Wheels). So, for the next six months, I enjoyed pie after tiger pie at Hannah's. I actually worked in Ultimo and every Friday, Aaron (fellow backpacker and also lover of the tiger pie), and I would walk the 20 minute walk to Hannah's Pies and order pies for the entire office. It would take us about 45 minutes in total to go there and get pies for everyone and we did that on company time. We were being paid to go and get pies and then eat them. You have to love the Aussies.
I left Australia after twelve months with my then girlfriend Kristin (now wife) and I left with a deep love for the country and its people. They call fruit machines pokies (how could you not love that). They only serve beer absolutely freezing cold. They say things like, ‘arvo, chook and dag and call McDonalds, Maccers. Men proudly wear wife beaters and aren't afraid of the mullet. However, the one thing I will always remember about Australia is that first pie.
Kristin and I will definitely take our kids there one day and I can guarantee that the first place we'll take them when we get there is, Harry’s Cafe de Wheels. They might not love it as much as me. They might think it's disgusting, but it doesn't matter because it will always be the place I fell in love with pies.
If you want to check out the website go here: http://www.harryscafedewheels.com.au/Home.aspx?element=1&category=1
Blog soon x
