Paul Dring journeys to Leicestershire to meet a teenage pork-pie prodigy, whose meaty creations took on the might of the corporations - and won. Photographs by Circe Hamilton.
I have a friend who loves her pork pies - so much so that every time she goes on a foreign holiday, she packs a secret supply of the things along with her swimming cossie and suntan lotion. Not that she declares this stash - to customs or anyone else. But then her reticence is understandable, as so many of today's offerings are not a patch on what they should be. Made from 'obscure' cuts of pork, with pastry that is dried out on the crown and grease-saturated at the base, they are as far from the ideal pork product as the doner kebab is from demonstrating the best qualities of lamb.
The hand-raised, organic pork pies made by William Bell do not fall into this category. Indeed, they are so good that they won Best Prepared Meat Product prize in last year's Soil Association awards - not a bad achievement for a one-man operation pitted against the might of the corporations, especially as William earned this accolade while most of his time was taken up in studying for his gcses.
Fifteen-year-old William has been a pieman for two years, since taking on the task from his father, Michael. "I didn't like the way he made them," William recalls. "They were a bit rough, so I asked to have a go." Michael, for whom pies were a lesser priority than, say, tending to 160-head of cattle, was only too willing to agree.
Centre of pie-making operations is Home Farm, which covers 400 acres of rolling Leicestershire countryside, near Loughborough. The farm buildings house the family's living space, a farm shop, a café, and pens, to which expectant sows retreat to bear their piglets. The buildings overlook a central quadrangle, where chickens strut ponderously and the farm dogs keep a proprietorial patrol.
Outside the yard, the land rises up from a gently tumbling brook through tree-lined fields to rocky outcrops that wouldn't look out of place in Wuthering Heights. It is in these fields that the cattle wander, the herd of Traditional Horned Herefords that are the farm's main business. Here, too, are the pigs, a herd based upon two old breeds, the Large White and the Large Black, which are crossed to produce the flavoursome meat that is used in the pies. There are almost a hundred of them, although William isn't too sure of the exact figure. "We've got so many roaming free. They just pop up everywhere."
They've been making pork pies in these parts since the 14th century, and William's are made in much the same way as those that Leicestershire farm workers have lunched on for hundreds of years. First, he raises a dense, hot-water crust pastry - made from fat and water, boiled together and worked into the flour while still hot - around a wooden mould to form the base. This is filled this with roughly minced cuts of shoulder and belly, to which William adds his secret herb blend. After the crown has been stuck down with egg and crimped onto the base, the pies are baked in a hot oven. As they cool, the jelly - natural gelatin, extruded from boiled-up bones and trotters - is poured in through a hole in the crown. The finished articles are superb: pies of bold, flavoursome pork with a hint of sage, encased in a layer of oozing, meaty jelly beneath a sweet golden crust, which are sold in the farm shop.
But, as Michael explains, it is not merely his son's nose for herbs that give the pies such a fine taste. "So much pork nowadays can be so bland, hence all the sauces you can buy for it. Here, we've learnt that the best animals for organic production are the good, old rare breeds, developed in this country over generations. They don't need high input. Ours is beautiful land, but it's like farming a rockery. But our cattle and pigs thrive here, whereas under a modern agricultural system, they would produce too much fat. And, being allowed to grow slowly in outdoor conditions, they develop a wonderful flavour because of the smooth texture of their intramuscular fat."
Michael has been rearing his rare breeds organically since 1984 - long before the current vogue for sustainable farming, although his commitment to this form of husbandry is not just founded upon questions of taste. The Bells' first farm, back in the early Eighties, was an intensive pig farm. Michael remembers an outbreak of meningitis among the herd, which, like all conventional farmers, they treated with antibiotics. "We were supposed to have a two-week withdrawal period before slaughter. But if you withdraw the antibiotic, you risk losing, maybe, two pigs in a lorry-load, which is your entire profit. So, as it was voluntary, we - in common with many others - kept the antibiotics in. It was standard practice: antibiotics right up to the point of slaughter. We wouldn't feed the meat to our children, but each week we carted away a lorry-load of pigs for human consumption. We couldn't morally carry on."
These days, such ethical crises are behind them and they can get on with the business of farming - at least, when the barrage of governmental paperwork they are obliged to complete allows. Whether William will eventually take on the farm is a moot point - he is currently more concerned in securing a scholarship to study business at an American university. That is, at least, when he is not distracted by the pressures of fame. "Lots of people know me now," he concedes, the result of local press coverage. "I walk down the streets of town and people say, 'You're that lad who makes the pies'. Although," he adds sheepishly, "that is starting to wear off now..."
Home Farm, Nanpantan, Loughborough, Leicestershire LE11 3YG. Tel 01509 237064.