Mushroom and ale pie, ale and mushroom pie. Doesn’t it sound so, I don’t know, rustic? I mean I know I’ve been living in the UK for nine years now, but I still have these overstated fantasies of provincial England. You know, homemade bread, pie, jam tarts. Romantic, overstated and embellished non-existant England. Unless you live in my head, in which case all English people are buddies with rainbow coloured ponies who have hearts for eyes and frolic under always blue skies and sunshine day in and day out whilst I bake. PIES.

Yeah, I know, that sunshine and blue skies thing sort of takes it over the top. And everybody knows ponies only come in a maximum of five colours so Roy G. Biv just isn’t possible in this scenario.

Recipe notes

This vegetarian mushroom and ale pie recipe makes enough to serve four, provided you’ve got some veggies on the side. Think typical here: peas (mushy or not) and potatoes. My preference? Roasted spuds and minted peas, topped with either a mushroom or red wine gravy. I love me a heap of puff pastry with a Sunday roast, the way the gravy soggifies (yes, that’s not officially a word*) part of the pastry while the rest stays cripsy and golden.

*in my head, anyway. I spend a lot of time there. Can you tell?

A popular topic amongst families of mixed dietery needs is the highly esteemed Sunday lunch. For many families in Britain, this is the most dependable meal of the week, a beacon at the end of the tunnel of Monday to Friday madness. It’s a time for the family to sit down together, to enjoy a meal, to warm up on a freezing spring Sunday (since apparently it’s winter here in Southeast England).

Ah, but what if nan’s just taken on vegetarianism or your daughter’s vegan boyfriend is coming around to disrupt your valued family time enjoy a meal? There’s always the reliable Fry’s chicken burgers (these do go well with roast spuds, I must admit) or Redwoods roasts, but if you’re looking for something that’s les prep-prepared then there are still options.

Recipe Notes

I personally love a pastry based component of a roast, the way the top stays lovely and crisp while the bottom soaks in the gravy and goes slightly soggy. Gross? Not at all; a good gravy should flavour everything on that heaped Sunday plate!

These pies are delicate but wholesome and filling, with a creamy centre containing the considerably underestimated (at least in the UK) sweet potato. They’re also good cold, so make a good addition to any picnic. Likewise, these pies are an ideal part of any underachiever’s breakfast (hello? Open fridge. Shove something in face. The end).

Try making a great big pie or swapping ingredients around. This is more of a suggestion of method rather than content, though I’m of the opinion that this filling is good as it is. Obviously. Plus it doesn’t require any special pans to achieve a clever pie shaped pie.

Using my recipe for Turkish style tofu, plus some traditional Sunday Roast ingredients, here’s a very easy and basic vegetarian Sunday roast with a little bit of added Middle Eastern flavour.

While argan oil may lose some flavour when heated to high temperatures, it was my choice of oil for making the roast potatoes for this roast. In future I would probably not use argan oil again for a roast, for a couple of different reasons: it’s expensive, and while it does add some flavour it’s not terrible noticeable unless you know what you’re tasting for.

The roasted tofu was simple as can be. Cut the block into two, coat it with some oil, and stick it in the oven with the potatoes. Same amount of time (ish). Just keep an eye on it to be sure it isn’t a charcoal colour. You know, to a char.

The peas and carrots? Also simple. For each cup or two of veg, add tablespoon of dill (I used dried), some mint, a clove of garlic, and 1-2 tablespoons of lemon juice. Fry the ingredients up in a bit of olive oil (or butter) for a minute and then add them to the already-cooked peas and carrots.

Last, but certainly not least (as it’s a roast staple) we have the gravy. Again, this one was dead easy! I just used a basic stock, thickened with corn flour, with a couple of tablespoons of pomegranate molasses and a third of a cup or so of orange juice also added. Add a splash of white wine for a little extra depth, if desired.

…so with just a little bit of extra effort, but certainly not a lot, I managed a new take on the concept of the traditional Sunday roast. Maybe these types of flavours aren’t to your liking, but regardless of that it’s proof that it is possible to vary on tradition when it comes to food.

Allow me to stereotype for a short while, because it’s fun, and because I’m an arse.

Dear Britain,

You must begin to understand that it’s almost always possible to play with food concepts, perhaps even with an end result which will make the dish taste better (or at the very least, different) than before. Please don’t be boring. Please try something new. Please experiment.

The Sunday roast is a fabulous concept, one which traditionally involves not only food but also the coming together of family for that especially prepared weekly meal. I must admit that it took me a long time to come to terms with such a relatively flavourless meal. Salt and pepper constitute seasonings, there’s enough oil to sustain all of Japan’s tempura-making for a day, and it’s just not exciting.

But that’s the thing: it’s not meant to be exciting, and now I understand that. It’s a predictable comfort food which pleases a nation, a meal everyone loves and to which all look forward. That, however, doesn’t mean you can’t try a few new takes on the concept, does it?

So I’ve decided to experiment with that quintessential British meal, the Sunday roast, to experiment with possibilities in preparing this classic Sunday meal. What herbs and spices can be added for a new taste? Can the containing foods, which are generally limited to roast potatoes, a protein, and one or two other veg (plus gravy), be dolled up to represent a fusion between Great Britain and distant cuisines? And if these things are done, would you still call it a roast?