Gotta love offal. The cuts that most people don’t want and which are dirt-cheap. Even free, if you live in the country.

Free? Your mate the farmer pulls up at your front gate in his bakkie and sends you a WhatsApp. “I’m outside. I’ve brought you some ox kidneys.” It’s one of those neighbourly Karoo moments that remind you how happy you are that life turfed you out of the city and into the country. You pop outside, have a natter about the weather and his sheep and cattle, discuss the wool price, and plan a steak and kidney pie some time soon.

Imagine that happening in Tamboerskloof or Parktown? Your mind would immediately jump to John Travolta in Carrie.

“I’m outside your house. I’ve got some ox kidneys for you.”

“Don’t get funny with me, I’ll call the police. Did you steal my mate’s phone?”

A frequent supper for the wizards at Hogwarts, steak and kidney pie was also on the menu at JK Rowling’s fictional Leaky Cauldron pub, while in Cockney rhyming slang you might order one at your local pub as either a Kate and Sidney pie, snake and kiddy pie or, worse and offensive to the modern ear, a snake and pygmy pie.

Recipes for steak and kidney pie date as far back as 1694 a book called The Compleat Cook listed ingredients that included currants, prunes, and nutmeg. But not of course Worcestershire sauce, which was only invented in 1835 by Lea & Perrins, yet which is today regarded as essential to these pies.

Often it would also have stout such as Guinness in it or another variety of beer. I used a Black Label lager, chiefly because my local did not have Guinness, and I did use Worcestershire sauce, but I also added hot English mustard and Port, because the latter gives a little sweetness to offset the bitter bite of the beer. Tasting the result confirmed, for my palate, that it was a good idea to include those two, and it added rather than took away from a steak and kidney pie which still tasted like the real deal, if with a bit of extra pizzazz.

Other known ingredients of this Brit classic have included bacon (which makes sense but which I did not include), and mushrooms (which I used).

The modern steak and kidney pie has a first cousin but which has fallen out of fashion: the steak and kidney pudding. A “pudding”, in this sense, is a steamed savoury dish. I was brought up with them by my British parents. In those days you could buy steak and kidney puddings in large tins at the grocery. The crust is soft and made of suet, and the “pudding” is steamed. They’re quite different from the crispy crust we are accustomed to today, but take my word for it: they remain one of my most special pie memories and I am dying to find suet and make one. When I do, you’ll be sure to find my recipe here. Suet is the hardish fat around the kidneys of cows and sheep, so it makes perfect sense to use in the wrapping for a steak and kidney pie.

Ox kidneys are considered the best for either the pie or the pudding, although lamb, mutton or pork kidneys are sometimes used.

I doubt very much that the old British recipes for the English palate used garlic, but come on, what harm can a couple of cloves of it do? I also, horrors, used some fresh rosemary.

What there can be no dispute about is that your steak and kidney pie must have steak, kidney, and onions. And a lovely crunchy pie crust. I used puff pastry, the shop-bought variety, and you can use that or shortcrust pastry too. A hot water pie crust such as the one I made in this recipe is also suitable.

As for accompaniments, you might think that mashed potato was the obvious choice, as it goes with a lot of pies, but the thinking is that chips make a better match for a steak and kidney pie.

Finally, make sure the filling is nice and saucy, so that it self-sauces from within. You can, however, make a traditional onion gravy to go with it, such as the one in this recipe I made for that other Brit classic, good ol’ bangers and mash.

Ingredients

2 onions, sliced

2 garlic cloves, chopped

750 g lean rump, cubed

500 ox kidney, trimmed and diced

Butter

340 ml beer

250 ml beef stock

¼ cup of Port

1 heaped tsp hot English mustard

1 tsp Worcestershire sauce

2 or 3 rosemary sprigs

Salt

Black pepper

250 g button mushrooms

1 packet of frozen puff pastry or 1 recipe hot water pie crust

Method

Trim the kidneys by peeling off the outer membrane and trimming away the whitish core. Chop the flesh into small pieces. Sauté onions in butter with garlic. Remove to a side dish. Cube the beef and brown it in batches. Return the onion to the pot and add the beer and chopped kidneys. Stir in the mustard. Add the stock, Port, Worcestershire sauce, rosemary, and season with salt and plenty of pepper to taste. Return the beef to the pot. Bring to a simmer and cook gently on a very low heat until the beef is tender, about 2 hours. Be careful that the sauce does not cook away, which it will if the heat is too high. Stir it now and then. Melt more butter in a heavy pan and add quartered mushrooms. Cook until they release their juices, then cook those juices away. Season with salt and pepper and add to the cooked beef, stirring to combine. 

Grease a large pie dish (or two smaller ones, as I did). Spoon in the filling, including plenty of the sauce. Roll out the pastry and cut a round about 3 cm wider than the dish. Place the round over the top and crimp it all round to the edges of the dish. Cut 3 or 4 “leaves” of pastry to decorate the centre. Beat an egg and brush it all over the pastry top. Place the leaves at the centre and brush over them too. Use a small, sharp knife to make an incision right in the middle. 

Bake at 200℃ for 20 to 25 minutes or until the crust is crisp and golden brown. DM/TGIFood 

To enquire about Tony Jackman’s book, foodSTUFF (Human & Rousseau) please email him at [email protected] 

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