An unprecedented half-year had elapsed since the Pie and Mash Club took to the streets of London for a basin of its traditional dish. To the ensemble gathered in glorious late summer sunshine on the Bermondsey pavement, those days seemed long ago and far away, in a time of ‘pre-war innocence’ , as club colleague Mike Goldwater so wistfully observed. Having emerged from lockdown and endured several sweltering heatwaves, the time was ripe for us to venture out to the traditional stronghold of Manze’s in Tower Bridge Road on Friday 18th September.

The ‘Rule of Six’ was already in place, and the whole thing had to be co- ordinated in advance with the shop to adhere to statutes and regulations. We ditched our traditional meeting moment of 13.11, having reserved a marble top for the recommended time of 12.45.

Aforementioned slender slab of marble constitutes Table Number 9, right at the back under the watchful eye of that late-Victorian progenitor of pie and mash, Michele ‘Papa’ Manze.

Lady-of-liquor Leanne it was who provided a smooth continuity of care, from the original telephone booking through to attentive table service. To be honest, it was like being catapulted into a parallel pie and mash universe. Cutlery was thoughtfully supplied to each punter, hygienically wrapped in individual white paper bags.

Doug Benford dug in to an uncharacteristically eel-free combo. This was because he was still working his way through a discounted bucket of jellied eels in the fridge back home in Brentford. Talking of ‘eel-freeness’, Doug was riding high on some recent airplay on Radio’s 3 ‘Freeness’. It’s a programme of improvised music which airs long after I’ve gone to bed-fordshire on Saturday nights.

An overhead view of my scran. The pies tops were picture-perfect. Behind the crockery you can just make out the ‘Track and Trace’ notice which includes one of those QR [Quite Ridiculous?] thingummies and is affixed to every table. As it happened, Ed Mosse was the only one equipped to scan us in. If they want to track and trace how many pies we eat, well let them.

Ed was put into a state of rapturous anticipation by wafting aroma alone.

Nick Everton beamed gleefully beneath his spotless white cheesecutter

I was quietly relieved that we we were only five on the legendary slim marble tops of Manze’s. The cramped effect was enhanced by the perspex panels which separated each eating pod.

The eagle-eyed among you might recognise someone who wished not to be photographed in this table top scene – it’s the lady aka Linda Jones, one-time Battersea girl, doyenne of butcher’s back slang and more recently champion of local politics in New Malden. Linda’s Covid bubble is so huge she didn’t want to be recognised in our Pie and Mash perspex bubble.

Enough of those bubbles were occupied during our visit to impart an atmosphere of busyness, but I suspect the lowered capacity is compromising the shop’s financial fitness. Let’s hope they are making up for it in take-outs. Here is Nick Everton ordering one for a family member.

The stack of Wing Yip food trays in the window seemed to speak volumes about the world we live in today.

The warm glow within and without provided an exquisite sense of expansion despite the challenging social conditions of the age.

The satisfaction was made complete with some whistle whetters at a pavement table outside the Hand and Marigold on Bermondsey Street.

Eddie and I saddled up to follow Doug Benford north for a transpontine cycling experience – on the other side of Tower Bridge we joined the east-west cycle path which slices dynamically through the heart of the city.

On our way through Camden we noted that Castle’s remained firmly closed – 'soon' is such a relative term. How soon is now? How now is soon? I guess this will all be over 'soon'.

St@