Take me home please
Dye's, 308 Munster Road, SW6
Season 2012-2013

The Pie and Mash Club was underground, overground, wombling free on Friday 2nd November in a hitherto unexplored region of the metropolis. The last leg of my own journey commenced from that handy station at West Brompton, tucked away behind the twin peaks of Earl's Court Exhibition Halls. As luck would have it, I intercepted Alan Smith on his annual southern migration path – by the time you read this, he'll be nesting in his winter home of New Zealand. Big Al gamely joined me in search of a cashpoint, which took us the length of North End Road Market, but enriched our understanding of the area.

When we arrived at Dye's, advance members of the flock were already settled into stylish windsor chairs. I was pleasantly surprised to discover my old colleague, Mark Bolland, editor, mountaineer, violinist and currently CEO of Mark's 'n' Spensives. It was a great opportunity to congratulate Sir Mark on recently becoming a first-time father and watch him take his own first footsteps on a personal ascent into the Emp-pie-rean.

Susan Madigan made her first appearance of Season 12-13, breaking new turf in SW6 with a distinctive devil-may-care flourish. On the same table we met a bus driver based at nearby Hammersmith Garage. Paul, originally a local and now of New Malden, was glad of a well-sited pie stop on the old manor before starting the late shift.

Dye's tariff and fare. Note the scoops of mash are dimpled to accommodate a pleasing reservoir of liquor.

Starter and main.

It was great to see affable West Londoner Doug Benford again. He was rather hoping to gain extra points for that livid t-shirt, but although it's the right tint, it cuts absolutely no mustard in this league.

Big Al was focused on laying down enough reserves for crossing the globe.

He's quickly established himself as a pie pundit with his pontifications on Facebook . . . our gastronome-laureate Michael Goldwater, whose portrait I captured at a critical culinary moment. Thanks to Mike's interrogation we learnt that the pastry is jus-rol, but that's hardly cause for reservation. But listen, I think it's time we had another 'mystery diner' competition. There is a free pie and mash meal in the exalted company of the Club for the first person to identify the wistful-looking lady in the background of the picture. Answers (plus proper means of verification) by email to here.

Gridlock on the Fulham Palace Road made for a hellish 55 minute each-way commute from and to Baker Street for Richard Lucas. Nevertheless, his disposal of the consumables was more 'gristful' than wistful, with a firm grip on the instruments and the calm, measured strokes of a former world champion.

What a pleasant surprise to catch up once more with our Cornish correspondent Paul Gale, last spotted in action one year ago at Cooke's in Hoxton. Paul's tidy attire and singular lapel badge caught my attention; I gleaned that he was in town on official lodge business.

Close-up: golden dividers on a backdrop of St Piran's flag. This tells you of Paul's successful transition from North London likely lad to captain of Cornish society. Judging by Paul's high scoring display and reminiscences of a pie and mash-spent youth, one can remove the lad from liquor, but one cannot remove liquor from the lad.

Dye's staff gamely paused for a pose.

Kayleigh [near right] was our sporting hostess.

The engine room was manned by Vince Dye [far right], a well-travelled journeyman chef now playing a crucial role in this local, family-run business. Dye's continues a tradition of pies in a corner of West London which used to boast two shops, one at either end of nearby North End Road Market, and I imagine it attracts a few Fulham FC face-fillers on match days.

100% character.

The green leatherette jerkin is straight out of Kensington Market circa 1985, but only Doug can make it work with a Pie and Mash Tee and reflective cycling garters. For much, much more, visit Wiki or DB's website.

But if this ever-changing world in which we live in
makes you give in and cry . . .
Say live and let pies.