The Origin of St Cuthbert’s Steak Pies

‘Bilgburger McGrath, whose nickname was derived from his habit of  resting near the drains, eating beef burgers after extended discussions  with an intriguing ale or two ,had undergone a renewal of purpose: he had entered the doors of St Cuthbert’s church for the first time, to seek ordination.  Although he had often passed these same doors on numerous occasions  en route to one beer sampling festival or another this was the first time he had actually walked through them.

Once inside he accosted the lucky vicar, The Rev Nigel Avasponge, and told him, without unnecessary preamble, that he had decided to seek ordination within the church. The Vicar, a kindly man, whose mean streak only manifested itself during crucial final moments of the croquet game at the summer fete, was a bit surprised by the request, but reacted with a smooth delivery developed during his career as a city councillor. “I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure of your presence in our congregation” said the Vicar. “I’m wondering how this sudden urge to change your profession came to be, and at this late stage in your life” To be fair,  Bilgeburger was a little unsettled at this reference to his age. At seventy- six he felt he still had the time to pack in one or two more careers before retirement became a serious issue. “No need to get lippy” said the born again ‘man of devotion’, waving a small bottle of something restoring in front of the vicar’s eyes.

The vicar, whose  survival skills recognised that deflection is often the best form of confrontation, suggested they move to the vicarage where Bilgburger might be able to help him refine his recipe for custard crèmes. Our ‘would be’ missionary was flattered to have his advice requested on any subject at all, and followed the vicar quietly into the vicarage kitchen, where the necessary ingredients were already on display.

For reasons not understood by any but a few over paid psychiatrists , ‘Bilgers’ as I will now call him, owing to a lack of typing energy, discovered an enthusiasm for toying with ingredients, and tossed aside all thoughts of ordination. Instead he went home and began working on the famous ‘St Cuthberts Steak Pie’, now a staple of many  fine dining houses, and a cornerstone treat for those interested in flavour rather than healthy eating: and at the age of eight- five he became a newly discovered television chef and raconteur; a role he crammed in between bouts of culinary  invention, beer sampling and the odd packet of Malboro Lights. That moment when he had tripped and dropped the half a bar of chocolate he was eating into the pie mixture turned out to be a career boosting accident: indeed a pivotal incident in this careerists career.   Perhaps divine intervention comes in many forms.



About Peter Wells aka Countingducks

Trying to remember what my future is
This entry was posted in character, cooking, creative writing, faith, Fiction, humour, old age, Talent, writing and tagged , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

22 Responses to The Origin of St Cuthbert’s Steak Pies

  1. Rosie Amber says:

    Oh I loved this well done.


  2. Jane Thorne says:

    Great laughs nestling in here Ducky….Avasponge indeed!! Well done. x


  3. A treat to wake up to. A delightful spare moment!


  4. Caroline says:

    As you say divine intervention comes in many forms. or indeed as does “devine intervention” – depending on the taste of the culinary delights!!!!


  5. Al says:

    This is a perfect example of VICARious satisfaction.

    P.S. Can I order this delicacy over the ‘net? (I already have plenty of beer)


  6. jmmcdowell says:

    A very satisfying entree!


  7. My cousin once told me about when he was in the military, a job totally unsuited for his personality. It was during the Vietnam War, so late 60’s, early 70’s. He got stuck on chef’s duty. Don’t know what they actually called it, but he was assigned to cook for the hordes and masses. He had no idea how to please a rowdy and demanding group of men, so he just started tossing into the pot everything he could find – including a large can of Hershey’s chocolate syrup. The men raved about his delicious stew. But what really clinched his culinary reputation was our uncle, owner of a local saloon. Uncle sent Cousin a case of liquor to pass on to the brass – and everyone was very happy after that.


  8. I have no idea how you do it!!! Wonderful stuff; I have the biggest grin; I think I will let it stay awhile :). 🙂


  9. This story just made me smile and laugh. I absolutely loved it. Everytime I visit your space, it always makes me happy :). Thank you for that


  10. gotham girl says:

    Same here…always a big grin on my face after your postings! Love!


  11. nelle says:

    Such an imagination…. you had me engrossed to the end.


  12. We’re all charlatans of one sort or another. Fair play to Bilgers I say.


  13. backonmyown says:

    I’m still chuckling about the “accidental chocolate” incident. Great story, Ducks.


  14. Your words melt upon the page.

    LOVE! Xxxx


  15. monkeybroth says:

    Very much enjoyed this but for clarification and for the safety of others, the St Cuthbert’s Steak pie must not be confused by the St. Lesley Grantham pie. A concoction on pork, banana and Absinthe that is, in all honestly, a terrible marriage of ingredients.


  16. babs50nfab says:

    I have to love and admire anyone thinking they have a few more careers in them at that age! Very encouraging post, Peter!


  17. Carrie Rubin says:

    “At seventy- six he felt he still had the time to pack in one or two more careers before retirement became a serious issue.”—Ha, love this sentiment!


  18. “The vicar, whose survival skills recognised that deflection is often the best form of confrontation, suggested they move to the vicarage where Bilgburger might be able to help him refine his recipe for custard crèmes.” So, so clever. And I laughed at loud when you shorted his name ” owing to a lack of typing energy…” No one has your style and voice, Peter. No one!


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