The Pie and Mash Club was at large in Tooting on possibly the hottest Maundy Thursday in living memory. Tarmac was shimmering and the pavements packed in scenes more reminiscent of downtown Delhi than suburban SW17. But what more appropriate statuary than a King Edward to greet us at the Broadway on our potato-framed quest?

Around the corner Harrington's is still standing.

The brave adventurer negotiating the portal to the fifth dimension should be aware of tripping hazards on the stairway.

Most are happy to negotiate the pastry portal of the pie dimension.

I opted for a cooling starter. It was the next best thing to plunging one's feet in a bucket of the stuff [jellied heels]. The fizzy belonged to a fellow diner.

Joining me on my side of a rather narrow booth were Pete and Charlotte Harvey, who had travelled heroically all the way from Wood Street E17. They are seen here pondering a second course.

This precocious tot is tearing up the table thanks to a fondness for the fish dish, hence the rather complex calculations you see in the league table.

On the far right is a good view of my potato-framed main course, showing a portion of Harrington's backswiped mash to good effect. I didn't share this plateful with herself, but we did go halvos on another pie afterwards. In Pete's words 'she's her father's daughter'. The Harveys found the overall service very friendly, but were disappointed by the absence of highchair or booster facilities [for Charlotte].

Shiver me timbers, this signage looks like it's been lifted from the sea bed.

Other doughty associates joined us on this sweltering lunch date: Daniel Bouquet was enjoying a half day leading into the long Easter weekend; he wore the assured look of a man who can make his own ice cream in a heatwave.

Linda Jones was at leisure but behind schedule thanks to a late loft lagging inspection in New Malden. [Her own loft, inspected by someone else]. She had the determined look of someone who expects to make massive savings on next winter's fuel bill.

Pie and mash - it's a family affair.

Best friends.

The good ship Harrington.

Next door is a conveniently located butcher's shop. Lounging in a neighbouring doorway we found this outsized specimen [far right]; surely a butcher's dog in cat's clothing. It was clearly too hot to be chasing after sausages . . . or pies.

In case you were wondering how Len Wilcock got onto the scoresheet, I received the necessary documentation from him below. I like the pic showing his bins just behind the clean plate. Len's long range punt was from Kelly's of Loughton.

See you at the finals.

St@