Or, more precisely, I’m about to have a diet forced upon me now that Goddards’ Pie House in Greenwich town centre has closed its doors and sold its final portion of stewed eels.
No more of my customary weekend lunches of Banks ale and soya pie, with mash, peas and parsely liquor, followed by an excellent rhubarb pie and custard. As a wise man once said: “Nooooooooooo!!!”
Greenwich is very much a poorer place for its loss. Not sure why it’s happening – maybe they’ve fallen victim to the rent hikes which are knocking the stuffing out of the independent traders (which we’d always feared, given their seemingly suicidal pricing policy – most customers wouldn’t have blinked at a doubling of the price), or maybe they just got sick of stirring big pots of eels (which surely can’t be all that pleasant).
And the good burghers of Greenwich are also likely to be poorer themselves – I somehow doubt that the chainstore gourmet burger bar allegedly taking its place will be serving two hearty meals for a fiver. Also means I’m going to have to get off my a*se and start to visit friends again, after getting used to them coming to visit me (drawn, if I’m honest, more by the prospect of pie eating sessions than by my company).
The centre of Greenwich is a lovely, whimsical place, though almost entirely unsustainable now that the naval charity which owns much of the land has decided to stop holding off on exploiting their goldmine and start asking traders for real market rents for this kind of real estate. The kind of place where you can have a huge craft market that only opens a few days a week, a printmakers’ co-operative, or a shop selling clothing for dogs exists outside of modern economics, and I’ve a feeling that things are going to get nasty in Trumpton, en route to our glorious chainstore future.
One tip – if you’re still seeking pastry thrills in the area, be wary of Goddards’ in Deptford – the other branch of the Goddards’ pie making dynasty. I made myself out a right middle-class ponce by going in there last year and asking for a soya pie, only to notice too late that they only serve one dish – called ‘Pie’, and with no clue as to what meaty goodness (or not) lies within.
How was this allowed to happen? They fought to stop the building getting knocked down when the DLR station was built. The Goddards folk were always on TV programmes talking about how they had a special secret recipe they’d never give up and how the business would always stay in the family. And then suddenly it ups and closes. And to make way for a bloody burger chain. As if there hasn’t been a big enough influx of chain companies into formerly fairly retail-diverse Greenwich. Tragic.