Balti pies... the truth
revealed
Urgent attention of Firmo. VERY URGENT.
I too have been obsessed with balti pies since
a trip to Walsall some six or seven years ago. I have enjoyed eating them and learned the
secret of ‘stoting them’ down the terracing to improve their near perfect
flavour even further.
Imagine my disappointment to learn before the
start of last season that we would not meet Walsall for a further twelve months.
Therefore, what joy to discover at Fulham last year that they too sold these highly prized
gourmet delights. I ate one, nay savoured one, before the kick off and watched the Clarets
steal into and hold the lead at half time. What better way to celebrate than to slide
another of the prince of pies into a welcoming belly?
I was still licking the precious sauce from my
lips as ‘one f in Fulham’ hit the net with their third.
What did I learn from this experience? Two
excellent pies compensate for a heavy defeat. Picture now the City Ground, and an
attractive evening fixture against Nottingham Forest, who were struggling to win at home.
My daughter has this loathing of David Platt with a passion equal to mine for the pie that
is balti, and so a good away win for the Clarets would cheer the Richardsons on their way
back to Blighty later that night. To start this triumphant evening, what better way than
two balti pies?
The rest is history. Baltis may soothe the
belly but can’t dull the pain of a 5-0 drubbing.
I’m normally slow to learn from my
disasters, none too superstitious and not too perceptive to boot. However, I saw the link
and learned that I had let the team and massed Clarets down with my obsessive greed. From
now on ‘one was fun’ but ‘two left us in the poo’.
My next visit to balti heaven proved this
theory was totally watertight, as we motored back from Watford with one pie in my belly
and three points in the bag.
Please learn from my mistakes: one is fine,
but NEVER two at a time. If you eat all the pies, as your waistline expands, so will our
fight for relegation.
Please don’t be a fat bastard!
Phil Richardson
August 2001
At the Watford game last season two fellers
asked me to save their seats for them at the start of the match. At the end of the match
they returned, much the worse for wear and looking a good deal fatter, and enquired as to
the score. After I enlightened them they managed a few choruses of 'We can see you
sneaking out', then went back downstairs for a couple of swift pies and beers before
chucking out.
It is my belief that no matter how many pies are
consumed by the London Clarets, these two comedians are responsible for the whole 'balance
of nature karma thing' as far as pies are concerned (and beers too!).
Eat heartily. Two or three balti pies is a mere
drop in the ocean.
Capnburnley
August 2001
More on balti pies
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