THIS week, we venture into the realm of the pie. We British are justifiably proud of our pie-making heritage, and this seems, slowly, to be spreading out into the rest of the world.

Even the French, who you’d imagine would resist all but the most amazing of recipes from across La Manche, are taking to the pies and crumbles we’ve been making for centuries.

In America, the apple pie is practically a national dish, and a diner menu wouldn’t be complete without a few home-baked pies served ‘a la mode’ or with a cup of coffee.

Over here, we take the business of pies to an almost fanatical level. It’s part of our cultural framework, from the cheeky football chant of ‘who ate all the pies?’ to the annual competitive eating event in the unofficial home of the pie, Wigan, Lancashire.

So why so popular? There’s such variety – I’d make an uneducated guess that one could almost eat a different pie every day for a year without fear of repetition. And what variety!

The Melton Mowbray pork pie, given its own PDO Status as a regional food in Europe now, is surely the king of cold meat pies, with its crunchy, buttery pastry crust, tasty jelly and firm meaty filling (no luminous pink pork for these beauties).

There’s the soft, comforting texture of the classic shepherd’s pie, and its close relative, the beef-filled cottage pie. Sprinkle some cheese on top and you have a Cumberland pie.

Think of all the classics, like the steak and kidney, chicken and mushroom and leek and ham, of a creamy parsley-filled fish pie, all sea-scented and lashed with sculpted waves of creamy potato.

Our friend Janet, who’s been part of our core team for over a decade now, makes an amazing corned beef and onion pie which disappears in seconds. It’s so simple, yet hits the spot perfectly.

Shortcrust, hot water-crust, puff or flaky, pies work with infinite fillings and with all sorts of pastry.

From the wind-chilled football fan’s half-time meat and potato or balti pie to the sweet, comforting Bramley pie, perhaps tinged with warming cinnamon and sloshed with custard, there’s a time and a place for every one of these magnificent creations. We should be rightly proud to live in these, our British Pie-sles.

So, to our recipe. We’re going to make a glorified pork pie this week. Now don’t run away!

Raised hot water-crust pastry is a doddle to make, you can’t really get it wrong, and the resulting pie will be proud, upstanding, and have that all-important baritone ‘crunch’ when you draw a heavy knife blade down through it.

You’ll feel, justifiably, immensely proud of yourself as you unveil it to gasps of delight and awe from your gathered friends and family (or just the cat snoozing on the windowsill!).

You can also play about with the ingredients a lot here – add a few dried apricots, perhaps? Or a layer of apple sauce. Fresh herbs? Dried herbs! It’s up to you.

I’ve added prunes, because they are a great friend of pork, and they’re good with pheasant too. But you don’t even have to add any game at all.

Try chicken, or just tinker with the proportions of the meat you use. All you need do is make sure the general weight of the total meat is roughly the same as my instructions, and you’ll have a lovely, raised pie, golden and tempting, within a few hours.

Make sure you have some good piccalilli or chutney to hand, or even just a smear of mustard. Maybe a fiery pickled onion. Sheer satisfaction. Aprons on!

For the pastry:

270g lard

300ml water

1 teaspoon salt (I used a herb-infused salt for extra flavour)

750g plain flour

1 tablespoon icing sugar

1 large free-range egg

For the filling:

4 pheasant or small chicken breasts

650g lean pork shoulder in 1cm dice

500g minced pork (belly ideally)

200g smoked bacon rashers, finely chopped

200g soft prunes, halved

Half a nutmeg, grated

A few chopped sage leaves

S&P

Extras:

1 free-range egg, beaten, for glazing

Pastry brush

A 9in /24cm springform or loose-bottomed cake tin

Clingfilm

Method:

First, make the pastry. In a large, wide pan, heat the lard and water with the salt until gently simmering, then take off the heat.

Sift the flour and icing sugar into a bowl, and tip this into the pan, stirring hard, until the dough comes together.

Make a hole in the dough, and tip in the egg, then beat it into the mixture with as much effort as you can muster.

Allow to cool a little, and then take a quarter of the pastry off and set to one side; this is your lid.

Roll the remaining pastry into a loose disc, and pop into the cake tin.

Gently press the pastry up the sides of the tin, making sure you don’t make any holes, and try to get the ‘corners’ neat at the bottom; you don’t want thick pastry there.

When you have an evenly-spread pastry case, pop it in the fridge for a couple of hours, with clingfilm to protect it from drying out too much.

Roll out the lid to a few cm wider than the tin, and place between a couple of sheets of clingfilm on a plate. Keep this in a cool place, but don’t refrigerate, as it may crack when being placed on the pie.

Heat the oven to 200ºC / Gas 6. Now you can get on with the filling.

In a bowl, mix the pork shoulder, mince, smoked bacon, sage, prunes, nutmeg and plenty of salt and pepper.

To assemble the pie, put half of the filling into the chilled pastry case, and top with the pheasant or chicken breasts, then pile in the remaining pork filling.

Brush the pastry lid with plenty of beaten egg, and lower gently onto the meat, pushing it carefully down the sides of the meat, expelling the air as you go, and pinch the pastry together by crimping – press the pastry with one finger from the inside (lid side) against your thumb and forefinger on the outside.

Brush the top of the pie with more egg, place on a tray and bake for 25 minutes, before turning the heat down to 180ºC / Gas 4 for a further 45-50 minutes, or until the pie is a deep golden colour.

Allow the pie to cool completely before unmoulding and slicing, no matter how tempted you are to dig in straight away!