Mince Pies (an anniversary)

 Who likes mince pies? I don't like them particularly, yet I always have some this time of year, and on this very date. You may know why, but for the people who are new to this blog, let me tell you the story again. So this evening 22 years ago, after spending ages on my PhD thesis, I went to the kitchen on my hall of residence to eat a mince pie, because I was feeling peckish. Why did I buy mince pie? I can't remember, because it's not my kind of dessert. Maybe I was curious, because they're everywhere in England this time of year. Anyway, as I was indulging my Québecois sweet tooth, in walked Veggie Carrie. In the kitchen and in my life. So since then, I have a mince pie to celebrate.

20 years of mince pies (an anniversary)

 I met my wife 20 years ago today, around this time in the evening. I lived and I was eating a mince pie. You can read more about it in this post. Because it is an important anniversary, every year since then, I eat a mince pie in the evening. At least one. Even though I don't like them all that much.

Mince pies cogs

Today is my wife and my meeting anniversary. 19 years ago. As we met over a mince pie (more details in this post), I bought some mince pies from M&S. I always have them on that day, even though neither my wife nor I are big fans of mince pies. Yesterday, I was having one as a dessert and I tried to explain to Wolfie how his mummy and I met. I did not manage to keep his interest for very long about it, I think too many concepts needed to be explained (university life, friends of friends, a time when he did not exist). But he did enjoy the mince pies. Not only eating them, but playing with them. In fact, that was his great discovery yesterday. As I was telling the story of his parents meeting, he said: "Look daddy, I made mince pies cogs." And well, he did. Of course I had to take a picture. I love how his mind works.

Meeting over a mince pie

18 years ago today I met my wife. I told the story before, but suffice to say that it was in the uni's hall of residences where I lived and I was eating a mince pie. More details in this post. Every year since that day, I have a mince pie as a dessert. Even though I don't like mince pies all that much. Neither does my wife. I was curious about it back then, or maybe there was a discount on mince pies where I used to shop or something, in any case I had decided to buy some. I cannot remember the brand I got then. This year, I have decided to buy a pack from M&S, because from experience they are among the best of mince pies (although in all those years I cannot honestly say that I have become a connoisseur).

Mince pies and an anniversary

When I first met Mrs Vraie Fiction fifteen years ago, it was in the common kitchen of the students residence. I was eating a mince pie. Since then, I eat a mince pie on the same date to celebrate our meeting anniversary. I blogged about it in 2008. And guess what I found two days ago in the kitchen? Somebody wanted to make sure I would not miss it. The ironic thing is that neither of us like mince pies all that much, it just happened that this was the dessert I was trying at the time.

Time for mulled wine and mince pies

Christmas is coming, which means, apart from the geese that are getting fat (or not anymore, who eats goose nowadays for Christmas?) is that we can enjoy seasonal food and drinks. I had this mulled wine and these two mince pies after a visit to one of the earliest Christmas markets, in a local hotel, about two weeks ago. Two very English delicacies. I have to confess, I am not the biggest fan of mince pies, but I do enjoy them wit mulled wine. I would enjoy mulled wine even more with the home made donuts we make in my family (now THAT'S truly a decadent match), but I have to compromise and enjoy local seasonal desserts. The mulled wine was nice, in any case, and the mince pies as good as they can be.

An Epiphany about mince and meat pies

I was reading in this book (which is among my Christmas reads) its chapter about mince pies, when something struck me: mince pies are pretty much not so distant cousins of the pork pies, or meat pies (pâtés à la viande as we call them in Québec) which I have been eating all my life and which are an important part of the traditional Christmas supper in Québec. I blogged about the pie recently in French, surprisingly the post got me many comments from my non-francophone readers. You can find the recipe on PJ's blog here. Anyway, here is my theory: both pies are important, in their respective region of the world, during the Christmas season and are closely associated with it (even though we can eat meat pies all year round in Québec, they ar emore prominent during Christmas). The mince pie is a pie from which the minced meat has now been taken off, while in Québec, the pork pie is made of minced meat, more precisely pork and some veal, but has no more fruit. It has still, however, some spices and herbs in it. And anyone can see the family resemblance. So there you have it. Something that has been so familiar to me has its origins in at least the middle ages. I might make a wish every time I start a pâté à la viande now. In any case, I encourage all my friends in the blogosphere to try the recipe on my brother's blog. Te meat pies are delicious and a perfect substitute for pigs in blanket.

Meeting anniversary

Okay, it is my second post in English in a row, but I had to blog this one. I am a man of traditions and rituals. I practically celebrate everything I can, everything I find significant in my life. Soon it will be the meeting anniversary of my wife and I, which I blogged about last year. Funny how small things change one's life dramatically.

So, for those curious or patient enough to know the story, here it is, very briefly told. Back in another lifetime, I was in my hall of residence, eating a mince pie, when she showed up in the kitchen. Not very dignified for a first meeting I guess, me eating a dessert I don't like all that much. Since then, I always have mince pies around that time of the year. Anyway, I had finished my mince pie when I saw a girl getting in the kitchen smiling. I think that's the first thing I loved about her: my wife always had a lovely smile. She and a common Greek friend had decided to come at the last minute to see another common Greek friend and then to go to a Greek party upstairs.

Still with me? Anyway, they invited me right on the spot to the Greek party. I don't know if any of you had ever been to Greek party, but they usually involve loud Greek music, loud Greeks singing Greek music, Greek dancing, Greeks talking in Greek, Greek wine, ouzo and usually something to eat (in this particular party, a high supply of crisps). As we were the only non-Greeks there, my future wife and I spent most of the evening talking to each other. She tried to go easy on the crisps and I surprisingly got easy on the ouzo without any effort. Maybe because ouzo is so strong I felt like I was drinking bleech or something, but I remained sober.

I can't remember much about the topics we talked about. I remember we chatted about the British monarchy and the prank call a Quebec comedian did to her back in the 1990s. So my first conversation with my future wife was on a pretty trivial topics. I also remember sharing crisps with her and drinking sips of ouzo to be polite to our hosts. I don't know if there is a moral to the story. Maybe that the most important events of your life are usually the result of random encounters. Or maybe that Greeks are cool.

An anniversary to remember

Today is the day I met my wife, six years ago. It was a Saturday evening, I was eating a mince pie in the residence's kitchen and she showed up because she was looking for a friend (my neighbour, a Greek girl from Cyprus I will always feel guilty not to thank in public in my wedding speech). I might blog more about that evening one day, something that hopefully will be an outstanding post. For now, suffice to say that since that day, I try to have a mince pie on the 23rd. I am not the biggest mince pies fan, in fact I quickly get bored of them, but it is one of those little traditions I have and I am quite fond of it. It is important to commemorate such events, and it makes the end of November more exciting, or at least exciting for something else than Christmas lights and decorations they already put everywhere. This is a personal, little celebration of mine that needs nothing but a mince pie.

Tarte à la farlouche

Bon, on n'y échappe pas, il semblerait que l'Avent commence en novembre. C'est encore un peu tôt pout célébrer Noël, mais les commerces s'y préparent partout. L'une des sucreries traditionnelles des Anglais à l'approche de Noël est la mince pie, autrement dit la tarte à la farlouche, comme on l'appelle au Québec. Ou plus précisément tartelette, car elles sont très petites. Je n'ai jamais été un grand amateur de tarte à la farlouche, mais je peux apprécier et puisque je suis toujours partant pour une expérience gastronomique interculturelle, j'ai pris l'habitude d'acheter des mince pies en novembre. J'ai rencontré ma femme pour la première fois fin novembre 2002, alors que je mangeais une mince pie dans la cuisine de ma résidence. Depuis ce temps, je souligne l'occasion en mangeant une tarte à la farlouche à la même date. Je ne suis toujours pas un grand amateur de tartes à la farlouche, mais elle a maintenant pour moi une signification romantique particulière. Cela dit, la mince pie anglaise est associée à un bon nombre de petites traditions, donc mon petit rituel se fait l'écho du folklore anglais. Et je suis très attaché au folklore et aux traditions.