A journey of some 50 minutes – and about as many stops – on the District Line eastbound from central Londinium will convey you to the outlying settlement of Hornchurch. Having traversed the unrelenting flatness of the eastern metropol, you’ll discover pleasantly undulating terrain on the approach to the town centre. Had you made the journey some 450,000 years ago you might well have needed crampons to tackle the last 100 yards, as this area was covered by the southernmost tip of the Anglian Ice Sheet. In these globally warmer days, one is met with a seemingly affluent town centre filled with independent traders and very few charity shops or empty premises – not a white [wooly] elephant in sight.

On a mild day in early January, your roving representatives assembled outside 100 High Street, a shop enterprisingly divided to accommodate a bespoke curtains and blinds business, and – the object of the expedition – Al’s Pie and Mash.

Across the threshold we discovered a correspondingly narrow diner decked out with beige floor tiles. A black and white wall tile theme was complemented by the striped awning and smart black wooden tables.

Local man Terry Moore ensconced himself fittingly below a framed portrait of Sir Bobby, while man-of-Chelsea Nick Everton looked quite at ease in this West Ham-flavoured establishment.

A two-and-one with a side of jellies.

There’s nothing like hunger to add savour, especially when the person in front of you at the counter has ordered a banquet-to-go.

Ray joined the fray.

A loving’ gobful. More concentrated than most, we detected a rich pastry and a dense mash best tackled by cutting into chunks. Chilli vinegar helped.

Mike’s silver challenge was strengthened by a double order of the aforementioned puree – a bold move when conditions are ‘heavy’.

Light-footed man-of-drama Edward Mosse kept things lean with his usual one-one–one-and-one. There were no desserts, just or otherwise.

With the gentle accumulation of points in the pie and mash league, the talk at this table turned inevitably to the footballing premier league.

If you’re not a fan of football – or talking while you eat – there’s plenty of scope for a game of observational ‘eyeball’.

Here stand our hosts. They coped calmly despite being a pair of hands short at the counter. Eileen retained composure as the lunchtime queue stretched to the front door. Jimmy maintained a steady flow of hot pies, as only a man who has risen at 6am can do. But let’s pause for a moment to consider Jimmy’s shirt – ‘The Warminster Thing’. A widely reported mystery of the 1960’s and 70’s, eyewitness accounts of flashing lights, atmospheric noises and unexplained mechanical malfunctions brought notoriety to this sleepy Wiltshire town. Watch the documentary here.

Recently-released MOD documents explain away these UAP’s [unidentified aerial pies] as ‘buoyant plasmas’ and ‘loose plasma objects’ – in other words, ‘pies in the sky’ wrapped up in scientific jargonese.

Relevance: none
Interconnectedness: of course
How: dunno.

Here are Pat and Julie from Suffolk, down for the day on a family visit and taking on the local tuck. As with many folk we meet on our journeys, they proved knowledgeable and well-travelled enthusiasts.

A pie-ranormal portal, and a peek through to the ‘other side’.

In the counter area, popular themes dominate. Stage right, a collection of Krays–and–boxing memorabilia, while on the other side is an unusual framed tribute to ‘Del-boy’ Trotter which includes a genuine, bona fide cheese cutter hat worn by Peckham's favourite independent trader.

Outside no. 100

[Below] Over the road, next to a giant Sainsbury’s was conveniencely-placed watering hole The Fatling, where it was possible to procure a pint of something local for £2.65. We reached the Railway Hotel at nap-time.

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