Grab a cuppa and your favourite snack and let’s talk about one of Britain’s most iconic, most debated, and most delicious culinary creations: the pork pie.
Here in Melton Mowbray, the undisputed capital of the pork pie world, you can practically feel the history in the air. It’s more than just a snack here; it’s an institution. You might associate it with summer picnics, pub ploughman’s lunches, or a Boxing Day buffet. The humble pork pie has a backstory that’s far richer and longer than you might imagine. It’s a story of medieval feasts, fox-hunting aristocrats, and industrial innovation.
So, let’s peel back that golden pastry lid and take a deep dive into the history of the pork pie.
The Great Granddaddy: Meat in a Pastry Box
Before we get to the specific pork pie we know and love, we need to rewind the clock. Way back. We’re talking medieval times, and even earlier. The idea of baking meat inside a pastry case is an ancient one. The Romans were at it, creating basic pastry shells (often made with just flour and water) to cook meat and poultry in. The primary purpose of this early pastry, however, wasn’t necessarily for eating.
Think of it as an early, edible Tupperware. This thick, hard pastry case, known in medieval England as a ‘coffyn’ (the same root as the word ‘coffer’, meaning a strongbox), was a vessel. It protected the meaty filling from the fierce heat of the wood-fired ovens, sealed in the juices and flavour. Most importantly, it helped to preserve the contents for days or even weeks in an age before refrigeration. The wealthy lord of the manor might discard the rock-hard pastry. The servants would likely have gnawed on the gravy-soaked crust.
These medieval ‘pyes’ were elaborate affairs, often the centrepiece of a grand feast. They were stuffed with a wild assortment of meats. These could be venison, swan, pigeon, rabbit – all chopped up together and heavily seasoned with expensive, imported spices like mace, cloves, and pepper. The spices were a sign of wealth. They also did a handy job of masking the flavour of meat that was, shall we say, a little past its prime.
From Feasts to Fields: The Pie Gets Portable
So how did we get from a medieval smorgasbord in a crust to a dedicated pork pie? As the centuries rolled on, the pie evolved from a status symbol to a more practical, everyday food. By the 18th century, it had become the perfect packed lunch for the working man. Farmers, labourers, and travellers needed something substantial, filling, and, crucially, portable.
The hot water crust pastry was the key. Made by boiling water and lard before mixing it with flour, this pastry is strong, pliable when warm, and bakes into a sturdy, self-supporting wall. It was the perfect edible container to withstand being bumped around in a pocket or saddlebag all day. This where the phrase “on the hoof” comes from. Pork was a common and relatively inexpensive meat, making it the ideal filling.
And what about that famous jelly? That wasn’t just for show. As the pie cooled after baking, the meat filling would shrink, leaving a gap between the meat and the pastry lid. This air gap was a breeding ground for bacteria, which could spoil the pie. To solve this, pie makers would pour a clarified bone stock (a natural gelatine) through a hole in the lid. This stock would fill the void and, upon cooling, set into a jelly. This sealed the filling off from the air, preserving it for longer. The fact that it was also delicious was a fantastic bonus!
The Melton Mowbray Masterpiece
Now we arrive at the heart of the matter. While pork pies were being made all over the country, a very specific style began to emerge in and around my current home of Melton Mowbray in the late 18th century. And we have the thrill of the fox hunt to thank for it.
This Leicestershire town became a fashionable hunting hub for the English aristocracy. But the pies weren’t initially for the lords in their fine red coats. They were for their servants – the grooms and hunt staff who needed a robust snack to see them through a long day in the saddle. They needed something they could eat with one hand while holding the reins with the other.
Local bakers in Melton developed a pie perfectly suited to the task. Unlike pies made elsewhere which were often baked in tins or hoops, the Melton Mowbray pie was (and still is) baked free-standing. This causes the sides to bow outwards slightly as the filling cooks and settles, giving the pie its distinctive, slightly rounded shape.
The filling was also different. It used fresh, uncured British pork, simply seasoned with salt and pepper. The pork was roughly chopped, not minced, giving it a chunkier, meatier texture. When cooked, this uncured pork is a natural greyish colour, not the familiar pink of cured bacon or ham you see in many mass-produced pies.
Becoming More Of A Posh Pie
The story goes that the hunting aristocrats, peckish after a long chase, began to eye up their servants’ lunches. They tried them, loved them, and the pie’s reputation was born. The arrival of the railways in the mid-19th century was the final piece of the puzzle, allowing these delicious pies to be transported to the fine food shops of London and beyond, cementing the name ‘Melton Mowbray Pork Pie‘ as a mark of quality.
Protecting a Legacy
Fast forward to the modern era, and the pork pie is a national treasure. But with popularity comes imitation. To protect its unique heritage, the Melton Mowbray Pork Pie was granted Protected Geographical Indication (PGI) status in 2008. This is a huge deal. It means that for a pie to carry the Melton Mowbray name, it must be made in a prescribed manner within a designated zone around the town, using uncured pork and that classic free-standing baking method. It ensures that when you buy a true Melton Mowbray pie, you’re getting a genuine piece of culinary history.
So, the next time you pick up a pork pie, take a moment to appreciate it. Whether it’s a genuine PGI-protected Melton pie or a local variation (which is not as good as the original!), you’re holding a food with a story that stretches back centuries. It’s a journey from a medieval preservation technique to a worker’s lunch, from a huntsman’s snack to a protected national icon. It’s a testament to British ingenuity and our enduring love for good, honest, hearty food.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, all this talk has made me hungry. I think a trip to the fridge to get the Melton Pork Pie that I bought at PieFest yesterday out for lunch is in order.
