World Cup success still pie in the sky for England

With the 2014 World Cup in Brazil now entering its latter stages, it feels an awfully long time since England were knocked out, following extremely disappointing performances in their first two matches against Italy and Uruguay. Not knowing much about football, I can't offer much more comment than that. I had though Italy were supposed to be fairly good, so that defeat was perhaps inevitable; as for the Uruguayan team, I know that one of their players sometimes gets a bit peckish out on the pitch, but I have absolutely no idea whether they're considered to be a decent side and hence whether we should have done better or not.

In fact I can't really say that I know all that much about Uruguay as a country either - I might just about be able to place them on a map of South America, but I couldn't tell you what their flag looks like, or even what the capital is. I can, however, name another place in the country - the city of Fray Bentos. You can probably tell where I'm going with this already.

Fray Bentos is a port on the Uruguay River, near the border with Argentina. Its main industry has historically been meat processing, thanks to the Liebig's Extract of Meat Company setting up a factory there in 1866 after realising it could significantly reduce its costs by relocating from Germany and using the meat from cattle bred there purely for their hides, which otherwise would have gone to waste. In 1873 the company started producing corned beef under the brand name Fray Bentos, later branching out into meat pies and other meat products.

The pies themselves have been produced in the UK since the 1950s, and ownership of the company has changed many times over the years, with Brooke Bond, Unilever, Campbell's, Premier Foods and Princes all claiming it in their portfolios of brands at some stage. It is currently owned by Baxters, the Scottish food company best known for its tinned soups (which will be featuring on this blog at some stage soon). Sadly they no longer produce the corned beef which made the Fray Bentos label famous, but these days it is probably their tinned pies for which they are best known, and the range has been extended to 10 different fillings, four of which also come in a 'deep fill' version.


The current branding ascribes each pie an adjective, so we have the 'CLASSIC' Steak & Kidney, the 'BOOZY' Steak & Ale, the 'RICH' Steak & Mushroom, the 'SMOOTH' Chicken & Mushroom, and the 'FIERY' Chicken Curry pie (I'm not really sure how I feel about a chicken curry pie. I'm all for fusion food when done well, but this sounds more like a clash of cultures to me). Quite why the inverted commas around the adjectives is necessary escapes me; it gives the descriptions a slightly ironic feel, which makes me want to steer clear of the 'TASTY' Steak and 3 Veg pie, just in case it is anything but. In the end I opt for the "GENTLE" Minced Beef and Onion - of all the descriptions, if this one proves to be ironic then it will only improve the pie in my opnion. I certainly have no aversion to a gutsy pie.

The sheer size of these tins is a marvel in itself. They really are enormous. With a diameter of over 15cm, the tin dwarfs the five pence piece I photographed alongside it in an attempt to give some kind of perspective on it. By the same ratio, if the 5p was Earth, the tin would be getting on for the size of Saturn (without its rings). Golly.

As we all remember from school, the circumference of a circle can be calculated by multiplying the diameter by 'pi' (I will resist the temptation here to make a pie-related pun) That makes it a whopping 48cm for the tin, which sadly proves too much for my good old Sheffield stainless steel tin opener - I barely get halfway round the tin before it completely gives up the ghost and falls apart. Once again, England has been trounced by Uruguay. Sort of. I have to finish off the job with the slightly ineffective can opener on my multi-tool thingy, which takes an age.


When I finally prise the tin open, I find what looks suspiciously like beads of sweat clinging to the underside of the lid. Maybe they are. The pale, uncooked pastry appears to be sitting in a puddle of its own urine. Hopefully it isn't. Forget whether or not it is 'GENTLE' - at this stage I'm not holding out a huge amount of hope that the pie is even going to edible. Usually with my tin taste tests, I try a little of the contents in its ambient state before heating through, but that isn't an option here. It's certainly the first tin I have come across for which cooking really is necessary, not just on a stove but baked in the oven. It wouldn't be much use stockpiling these tins for consumption after a nuclear attack, though I suppose you could just eat the filling and use the raw pastry as a dressing for burns or similar. Anyway, pastry always looks a lot more appetising after is is cooked, so maybe there is hope for my dinner turning out ok yet. Into the oven it goes - 230 degrees for 25mins.

Sure enough, it comes out of the oven having puffed up to something approaching a golden perfection. With a cloud of fluffy mash and some veg on the side, things are looking up again.

But wait - all is not quite as it appears. While the top layer of pastry is deliciously crisp and brown, peeling this back reveals a subcutaneous level which, although not raw, is soggy and not particularly pleasant. It reminds me of when you pull up a carpet to find that flabby underlay stuff beneath it. Nice.

However, just as when you also pull that underlay up and reveal the far nicer dark brown floorboards beneath, so too here the soggy layer can be scraped back to reach the mince and onion filling of the pie - which I must say is actually quite tasty. Both mince and onion are well cooked, the former not at all chewy, as had been my fear, and the latter chopped finely enough to ensure that it has softened completely (there's nothing worse than chunks of half-cooked onion), providing that fundamental basenote flavour to the gravy. Diced carrot and a few peas added to the mix give a nice variety to the texture.


So I would say the inverted commas around 'GENTLE' can be ignored - it is quite an apt description really. There's nothing here that's going to offend anyone too much; a good amount of flavour without anything too strong or spicy, no mushrooms or kidney or anything else that a fussy eater might turn their nose up at, and with no chunks of steak or other meat you barely even need to chew at all - it makes for very easy eating. It's just a shame about that pastry, which does disappoint. Pastry in a tin is a bit weird when you think about it - was that ever really going to work well? Perhaps some people like that soggy layer, but in my opinion it would be far better for Fray Bentos just to produce the pie fillings (as indeed they did at one stage), to be topped off yourself with whatever lid you please (puff or shortcrust pastry, mashed or sliced potato etc). But then of course much of their convenience factor would be lost.



Apparently Sean Bean has Fray Bentos pies flown over to wherever he happens to be filming for a taste of home (though not without a bottle of Henderson's Relish, that fine condiment brewed in his native Sheffield). So, while the brand may have its roots in Uruguay, I think for many people there is something about the Fray Bentos pie that is as English as - dare I say it - getting our hopes up about the World Cup and then being knocked out early in the early stages. While they may remind us of past glories, whether that be 1966, or the really tasty homemade pies your Nan used to dish up, both the English football team and the Fray Bentos pie promise much, but never quite deliver. But at least the pies come with a Quality Guarantee so you can get your money back if you're not satisfied...