Is it Poole's? Is it Pimblett's? Wigan or St Helens? We're talking pies here, and there's more at stake than the honour of the corporations or even local pride. Friendship is on the line: Charlie Nevin, star of the Independent, is a St Helens man, and Laura Barton, one of the glories of this paper, is a Wigan woman, or a "pie eater", as men of St Helens call those from Wigan ("Because they always have to eat humble pie," said Charlie, a reference to a long-standing rugby league rivalry). I count both as friends, but they are at odds on the matter of pies. You see my dilemma.
I had taken myself to Lancashire, whose pie culture had long been a fascination. It's quite different from that of the rest of the country. Here, pies are sold hot, for a start, although you can eat them warm or even cold. You find them all over the county's mill and mining towns. It's not surprising: the pie was the Cornish pasty of the Lancashire Industrial Revolution, according to Norman Coan of Poole's Pies of Wigan.
Poole's are big pie makers, as in they make a lot of them: 6,000 an hour, in fact. There's nothing romantic about its pie production. The "bakery" is on an industrial estate off Kilshaw Street - it's functional, but it functions very well, and I'm inclined to look favourably on anywhere that wraps you in the odours of warm meat, potato and pastry.
The puffing pressure cookers and gleaming production lines are state-of-the-art rather than state-of-the-artisanal, but there's no denying the quality of the pies, with their golden-brown, biscuity tops, perfectly formed, perfectly baked, one size for one eater and family-sized pie for the family. And, of course, they do more than just the basic meat-and-potato (the meat being beef, the potato being potato, plus seasoning: that's it for a traditional Lancashire pie). They also do butter pie (potato, onion and butter. "And if you don't try a butter pie..." emailed Ms Barton), a Lancashire hotpot pie and fruit pies. Clearly, these pies aren't just for local consumption, although that consumption is prodigious. You can find Poole's Pies all over the country, thanks to Morrisons, whom they supply. (Incidentally, Wiganers used to put a pie between two slices of barm cake - now that's a meal.)
You won't, however, find Pimblett's pies anywhere other than St Helens. They're made in St Helens, sold in St Helens and eaten in St Helens. The firm was set up by John and Mary Pimblett in 1921, and these days John Pimblett III is on hand every morning to make sure the pies match the exacting traditional standards at the bakery beside the shop on College Street. There's no industrial production line here. These pies have the slight irregularities of the artisan: a little lip of untrimmed pastry dropping over the edge of the foil tray, or slight variations in the tan on the crisp top. It's not that Pimblett's are locked in the past - they make beef and onion pies and even a balti pie - but it's the meat and potato pie that lives in the affection of thousands. Well, in the affection of Charlie Nevin, anyway.
OK, OK, so which did I prefer? Poole's: very good-looking pies, though they lack true individuality. The pastry is fine, both good and thin (perhaps even too thin?). The sides have a tendency to collapse when you bite in. The filling is very, very generous right up to the top, the meat fine-ground, the potato suitably lush, with a lively, peppery heat.
Pimblett's: a slightly thicker pastry, so it's less likely to dump its contents down your front. The meat is not so finely ground as the Poole's, and I'd say the balance between the flavour of meat and potato is a touch more robust as a result, although it is a fine distinction. Pimblett's ahead on points then, but the filling didn't quite get up to the roof of the pie, as Poole's did.
The short answer is, I don't know. Go and make your own minds up.
Where to get it
Poole's of Wigan, Kilshaw Street, Pemberton, Wigan, Lancashire, 01942 214133
John Pimblett & Sons, College Street, St Helens, Merseyside, 01744 455500 (pimbletts.co.uk)
