LONDON — As a light drizzle starts outside, the river of people flowing through the famous doors at M. Manze becomes a flood. It’s noon on a Tuesday, and they are all here for the same thing: hot pie, mash and liquor.
Like the pastry, the place is stuffed to the brim. Diners make space on church-style pews by shuffling up and down the long, creaky benches. Savile Row suits rub shoulders with saggy soccer jerseys while elderly ladies mingle with tattooed hipsters. Hot pies hit cold marble, with a single portion costing the princely sum of $8. This is communal dining, Victorian style.
London’s original fast food, “pie and mash” is making a surprise comeback in the British capital. A new generation has discovered the delights of minced beef pies and mashed potato, served with lashings of a Kermit-green parsley sauce known as “liquor.” A hardy few — including soccer legend David Beckham, who celebrated his knighthood in a pie shop last June — add a traditional bowl of jellied eels.
This renewed demand for hearty ‘Cockney cuisine,’ so-called for its working-class East End roots, has been observed across the city. Old-fashioned pie shops (always “shops,” never restaurants or cafes though, of course, they’re all of the above) are busier than ever. But high-end restaurants are also scrambling to add Cockney twists to their own menus, which has raised eyebrows further up the food chain. There is now a push in Parliament for traditional pie and mash to receive protected status, like Parmesan cheese in Italy or Champagne in France.
M. Manze, London’s oldest continuously operating pie, mash and eel shop, is a brisk 10-minute hike south of Tower Bridge’s Gothic turrets. Serving Cockney comfort food since 1892, the shop has always been run by the same family. The third-generation owner says they are the busiest they have been under his watch.
“We’ve got a bit of a revival going on at the moment,” Rick Poole, M. Manze’s purveyor of pies, says with a grin. “Covid was good for us because pie shops traditionally have big windows, so we could open one up and sell hot food through it, while everywhere else was closed.”
The momentum continued after the pandemic, Poole explains, “then the Instagram generation discovered us, the Beckham factor kicked in, and everything really took off.”
It’s the same story four miles down the River Thames in another of London’s iconic pie shops, Goddards at Greenwich. Here, fourth-generation pie maker Kane Goddard is struggling with increased demand but is refusing to compromise standards.
“Every weekend, the queue is out the door and down the street now, but we’re still cooking the same way we’ve done since 1890,” says Goddard in his rough-and-tumble Cockney accent. “A true beef pie should be crispy on top and soft like a baby’s bum underneath.”
As we chat in his bustling shop near artsy Greenwich Market, Goddard shows me the correct Cockney way to consume a pie. First you flip the flaky lid down to expose the spongy suet base, then you score a rough “x” in the bottom, letting the juices ooze out and soak into the parsley liquor. Next, you add liberal doses of the ever-present chili vinegar, before finally devouring the delicious, goopy mess with a fork and spoon. Asking for a knife in a London pie shop is considered blasphemy. You need a spoon in hand for the all-important liquor.
“Every day we have tourists asking if there’s alcohol in the liquor,” Goddard laughs. “They’re always so disappointed to learn it’s mainly parsley, salt and flour, but that’s the way it should be done. It’s a proper London thing.”
Richard Holden, the Conservative lawmaker representing Basildon and Billericay, says he believes that geographic “properness” should now be legally protected by Traditional Speciality Guaranteed (TSG) status, and has argued his case in Parliament.
“In terms of cuisine, Britain has always looked down on itself, and it’s time to change that,” the politician says, sipping tea in his sun-drenched Westminster office. He envisions an official “Pie Path” through the city, marked by colored plaques on authentic shopfronts.
“The Italians and French have done it, so why shouldn’t we?” Holden asks. “Just because pie and mash is a little different doesn’t mean it’s any less valuable.”
On the contrary, London’s elite restaurants are seeing plenty of value in pie and mash right now. One of the most feted, the Wolseley on Piccadilly, recently added the ultimate Cockney classic to its menu, presented with parsley liquor and a twist of chili vinegar for £24.50 ($32) — about four times the price of a regular pie shop.
The five-star Rosewood Hotel in Holborn has gone even further, opening a dedicated “Pie Room” where waiters in jaunty tartan trousers and bow ties serve braised beef pies with bone marrow and an optional champagne pairing for a whopping £36 ($47).
Meanwhile, Piehole, which opened on trendy Shoreditch High Street in 2023, is part pie shop, part speakeasy. Awash in pop art, taxidermy and flowers, its menu is set to candlelight with a seductive R&B soundtrack.
Owner Giovanna Hussain has broken many of the traditional rules, including serving her wares with both knives and gravy. But the crowd of young professionals packing the tables during my visit don’t seem to care. Paying £14 ($18) for a (frankly delicious) plate of pie and mash, they are more than willing to spend a little extra on Cockney-themed cocktails like “Limey Geezer” and “East End Elegance.”
This new wave is a far cry from the origins of pie and mash, which began as cheap, nourishing food for East London dockworkers in the early 19th century. The first pies were filled with eel meat from the Thames. Dwindling supplies eventually saw minced beef take over, and the eels demoted to their current position — a slimy side order, served in viscous jelly.
Many Cockneys consider eating jellied eels a sacred ritual, honored every Saturday with their weekly pie and mash. Other Victorian customs die hard too, including the use of Cockney rhyming slang — a coded language where the second word of a phrase rhymes with whatever you’re describing. The vernacular can still be heard across East London’s pie shops, particularly when the locals don’t want “dustbin lids” (kids) or “septic tanks” (Yanks) to hear what they’re really saying.
Tony Lane, owner of Tony’s Pie and Mash in Waltham Abbey, has no problem speaking plain English. Along with other orthodox piemakers, Lane has beef with posh restaurants butchering Cockney conventions — and charging extra for what he claims isn’t “proper” pie and mash.
“They’re taking the piss to be honest,” says Lane, the man who served Sir David Beckham pie, mash and jellied eels to mark his knighthood, and counts the former English team captain as a regular.
“They’re inviting people in, offering traditional pie and mash, but it’s not traditional at all,” Lane said. “Most of them don’t even have liquor, and I’ve seen the way they make pies with all those weird extra ingredients — it looks more like spaghetti Bolognese inside.”
Despite his concerns, Lane has seen a big increase in his own slice of the pie recently, and he believes he knows why.
“I personally fink, and I would stake my life on it, that David Beckham has made pie and mash trendy again,” he says, dropping the “th” into an “f” in typical Cockney style. “Before Becks came in, nobody under 50 was interested, but now we’re getting all kinds of people, young and old, queuing up for it.”
According to folklore, you must be born within the sound of Bow Bells — or earshot of St. Mary-le-Bow Church on Cheapside, one of London’s oldest shopping streets — to be considered a true “Cockney.” But like “pie and mash,” that definition has loosened of late. For many, it’s a good thing.
“Being a Cockney isn’t about where you were born in London anymore, it’s more about your attitude,” says Father Simon Cuff, rector of the evocative 945-year-old church, whose bells still ring out over rambunctious Cheapside twice a day.
“It’s about respecting and upholding values of hospitality, family and community — and pie shops are perfect examples of that. Whoever you are and wherever you’re from, they’ll make you feel welcome and serve you comforting, filling food. That’s what London at its best does; it makes people feel at home.”
They say London is a city with an old soul and a warm heart — which makes perfect sense when you realize it’s powered by talismanic pie and mash.
London’s best pie and mash shops
M. Manze
Opened in 1892, London’s oldest surviving pie, mash and eel shop is, many argue, still the best.
87 Tower Bridge Road, London, SE1 4TW
Nearest tube: London Bridge
G Kelly
This East End classic has recently been refurbished, but nothing’s changed about the legendary pies, which are filled to the brim with beef. (Don’t miss the apple crumble and custard either).
526 Roman Road Market, London, E3 5ES
Nearest tube: Mile End
Goddards at Greenwich
The perfect pit stop while exploring one of London’s prettiest and most underrated neighborhoods — home to the Old Royal Naval College, the prime meridian and the Cutty Sark.
22 King William Walk, London SE10 9HU
Nearest tube: Cutty Sark DLR
Arments Pie & Mash
Arments’ selection of veggie and fruit pies have proved popular additions to the classic minced beef option.
7-9 Westmoreland Road, London SE17 2AX
Nearest tube: Elephant and Castle
F Cooke
The pies here are still made with an old family recipe from the 1860s, using the best quality Scotch beef.
150 Hoxton Street, London N1 6SH
Nearest tube: Old Street
Jonathan Thompson is a British travel writer based in Dallas, and the host of “Adventure Cities” on the Discovery Channel. Follow him on Instagram @JT_Travels.
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