Chingford is the end of the line. Here you alight from the Liverpool Street train and a colourful LT roundel greets you with the message 'Welcome to the Forest'. From the station forecourt, the wide open expanses of Epping Forest stretch out north easterly to your right, while a pleasant rising road to your left leads you into the heart of the township.

A three-minute stroll along Station Road brings you to the gleaming black perspex signage and characteristic black awning of a Robins Pie and Mash outlet at No. 50. You may recall the Club visited this address in November 2015. [See the report.]

Sadly, Winnie's was rather a short-lived affair. Since then the shop has been firmly grasped by the scruff and given the full Robins monochromatic makeover. It's such a tried-and-tested template that most of us knew what to expect - from the size of the pies down to the salmon and mash option available on the menu board.

Despite the fishy alternative all was in order as the assembled lags ensconced themselves at marble tops in the aft of a fairly compact shop.

Here's a fine prospect - a verdant pastry coastline emerging from beneath towering crags of mash. But don't let Mike's wide angle lens fool you, for the seasoned pie and masher is well-acquainted with the modest proportions of the classic Robins vehicle. What you see here is merely Pete Harvey's first course.

Ed Mosses lances an eel.

Mike contemplates meaty goodness.

There's me, loosening off the lid of the Club Hot Sauce.

[Far right] Mike and Pete in the love seat. If you're fresh out of prison or simply aggro-phobic, this cubby hole at the back of the shop is just the ticket.

Once you've upended your pie and made the incision, there is a choice of vinegars to suit all palates. Plus white pepper of course.

A pie and mash-shaped dessert. Some dissenting voices have suggested that 'afters' should merit more than 2 points on bulk alone. Well they can set up their own club - the Apple Dumpling Gang.

A typical Robins counter display replete with embossed signage and an array of chilli vinegar bottles for sale. The bottom shelf was adorned with condolence cards; as a few weeks before our visit, June Robins, founder and matriarch to the Robins Pie & Mash franchise passed away. Her mark on the pie & mash shop trade was legendary and she'll be sorely missed.

[Far right] Even the Squash Tower looks authoritative.

This is no corporate eating experience. It's the manifestation of this remarkable lady's vision of providing reasonably-priced traditional East End food with smart, courteous service in spotlessly-maintained dining rooms. Old-fashioned standards prevail A tribute to June recently appeared in the Romford Recorder. [You can read it here.]

Our immaculately-presented staff on this day were [below l to r] Cerys, manageress Claudia and her brother Joe. These two latter are June's grandchildren and inheritors of an imposing set of trading standards - the sort that only hard graft [and perhaps a hard nose] can maintain.

If our experience was typical, then this youthful team are doing a great job. Even the pastry made it onto Pete Harvey's taste notes. The consensus was that these were better-than-usual Robins pies. Try them for yourself and let us know.

Outside the vet's there appeared to be an Artistic Statement.

There were no canines to heel as we embarked upon our own walkies to the very edge of town. And beyond . . .

It was a bit longer than the ten minutes that Pete reckoned, but our well-earned libations were eventually necked at local free house, the Queen Elizabeth.

By Royal Apintment
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