So my mate A phones me last week, “Where can I get a chicken pie?” she says.

Really?  In this weather?  (It’s pushing 30C even at 8am these days).  Yes, she says, a proper English chicken pie.  OK, well, I have some recipes; Delia and Jamie spring to mind.  She can get that off the internet of course. I should explain that A is from Austria and has no idea what a proper pie looks like.  I give her a brief outline of British comfort food and pub grub, stressing the importance of gravy and pastry.  She tells me that her landlady has requested the pie and as she’s such a great landlady, A does her best to help out whenever she can.  Hmm, well the British Club should be able to sort it out, if anyone can.  I suggest she calls our friend’s husband, who is in charge at the BC and will know more.  And if she gets no joy, she can always pop over and borrow some frozen pastry I have in my freezer and we’ll cobble something together.

I saw A yesterday and asked how she got on.  The British Club was a score!  They have proper home-made chicken pies all ready to go in their freezer and she bought 3 and passed them on.  In return, her landlady delivered a card for her, emblazoned with the NLD logo, which she shows me.  Inside it reads:  Thank you very much – great pies!  Aung Sang Sui Kyi.

Who knew?