Three Bears Pie

750g venison steak, diced. I really like these people, because their deer look happy, and you can call them up on the telephone. I never have, but I like knowing I could.

Six small plums

Four red onions

Six fat cloves of garlic

A good large fistful of parsnips- I expect I used about six. Half a bag of Sainsbury’s Basics parsnips.

Plenty of rosemary.

Bloody lots of red wine.

Worcester sauce, if you fancy.

Flour

Grainy mustard

Mustard powder

Sea salt

An egg

Dried mushrooms- either bought dried, or dried yourself, as Jack Monroe does here. I like Jack Monroe, even though some of her recipes make me sad.

Two beef stock pots (You know, we all know, that I think those little jelly ones from Knorr are the best kind. I know. I bang on about them. But they are a game changer.)

Pastry. Recipe here, or buy some, in a packet, from a shop. This is not cheating, and nobody will mind.

Heavy-bottomed pot, like a casserole dish. Mine is this one from Sainsbury’s and I dig it extremely.

Sharp knife; chopping board; big bowl; stirring implement of some kind.

To begin with, take the meat from the little packets, and let it breathe. It seems strange to let dead meat breathe, but that is what it’s called. Put your pot over a medium flame to heat- cast iron takes a little while- and take your plums, and your onions, and your garlic, and chop them all reasonably finely, peeling the onions, leaving the peel on the plums, et cetera. Plums are my weakness: there is a tree, in Tall Man’s mother’s garden, and last summer I lay underneath it, the queen of the wasps, eating and eating, like the little girls in the poem. I feel a little guilty for eating plums in February, but they are gorgeous, and go extremely well with venison. To begin with, take the meat from the little packets, and let it breathe. It seems strange to let dead meat breathe, but that is what it’s called. Put your pot over a medium flame to heat- cast iron takes a little while- and take your plums, and your onions, and your garlic, and chop them all reasonably finely, peeling the onions, leaving the peel on the plums, et cetera. Plums are my weakness: there is a tree, in Tall Man’s mother’s garden, and last summer I lay underneath it, the queen of the wasps, eating and eating, like the little girls in the poem. I feel a little guilty for eating plums in February, but they are gorgeous, and go extremely well with venison.

Directions at eatingwithmyfingers.com

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