KO'd by Australian pie

When you move to another country, it's with the understanding that you're leaving a lot of things behind: family and friends, of course; customs and traditions; and — and in many ways tied up with the first two — foods you love.

I don't get nostalgic cravings often, but when I do, they're for very specific dishes: real fish and chips, Battenburg cake, proper bacon, steak pie, pork pie, cheese and onion crisps ("Greeat fleeavas, Chudah!").

Often, I can distract these cravings with more accessible imports: Bird's Custard, Branston Pickle, and HobNobs are available (at a price) in the grocery store.

But sometimes, the call is too strong.

And sometimes, the call is answered.



Australian? Eh, close enough.

This is KO Catering and Pies, a short walk from the Broadway T stop (in the former St. Alphonzo's Kitchen space). It's not much to look at from the outside:



But inside it's fragrant with the aroma of warm pastry and decorated with ceramic budgies and a clock displaying the only important time zone:







The menu is expansive:



But we were there for one reason: pie.

The only other time we've found proper meat pie in this country was at an Australian pie place in Austin, Texas. I'm not sure why it's left to our antipodean brethren to demonstrate the magic that happens when you combine meat and pastry, but there you go.

We ordered a meat, a meat-and-cheese, and a sausage roll. There were paper napkins but no forks; when The Boy went to ask for some, he was handed a postcard that explained the correct way to eat a pie was by picking it up and shoving it in your face.



Oh, this was some good pie.

The bottom was a shortcrust and the lid was a light, buttery, flaky puff pastry. The meat, simmered into a slightly sweet ragu, had just enough gravy to season the pastry without turning it to an unmanageable handful. The addition of cheese to the second pie gave a little touch of salt that balanced out the sweetness of the meat.





I'm not sure I could ever make a pie like it. But sausage rolls I do bake now and then. So ordering one was more of a "because it's there" decision than a need to sate a craving.

Here's the thing: this was no ordinary sausage roll. The meat inside was less like sausage meat and more like pork pie: densely packed, almost pressed.



So this is perfect: I have a place to satisfy my need for meat pie and pork pie, and also to pick up much better sausage rolls. And with KO Pie's food truck launching soon, I might not even have to go to Southie to get some.

Home is coming closer to me!

Austin City Pie Limits

Wednesday

After a reasonable free continental breakfast at the La Quinta (Spanish for "a cockroach in every room"), we saddled up and headed out. The weather was humid but overcast, so it was quite a pleasant stroll through the UT campus. We circled it a couple of times and then headed into the middle so that The Boy could live out his lifelong dream of seeing the clock tower. (It’s a long story.)

At the base of the tower is a small pond with water liles and a sizable population of turtles. It’s a quiet, attractive memorial to the victims of Charles Whitman’s sniper-based escapade—much more compelling than a chunk of marble.

And then a reviving stop at Jamba Juice, because my friend Sue in LA says it’s the best thing ever, and they don’t exist in Boston yet. The Boy had a Pomegranate Paradise; I had the Aloha Pineapple with an extra shot of immune-system booster. Very fresh and delicious.

As we sat, we read the Austin Chronicle, the free alternative rag (think Phoenix) and found a listing in the dining section that promised “11 different flavors of authentic Aussie meat pies in flaky crusts.”

If that’s not lunch, I don’t know what is.

So we headed further north up Guadelupe. And after a short detour in the form of Buffalo Exchange, a vintage and second-hand clothes store, where The Boy picked up a soft gray-black cord jacket and I found a couple of funky t-shirts, we found Boomerang's Pies.

I guessed correctly that the place was the result of the owner’s trip Down Under, in the course of which he discovered pie and found it good and decided to share it with the residents of Austin. (I should do the same with parmo.)

When I think pie, I think pork, beef, steak and onion. The varieties here include Southwest Adobe chicken, Texas BBQ, Mediterranean Veggie. I opted for the Guinness steak, as it was the last one, and The Boy chose traditional beef. And as the best accompaniment for Australian pie is Australian beer, we got one each: a Cooper’s Light Ale (bottle-fermented, so there’s sediment at the bottom) and a Tooheys.



Both pies were good—excellent crust, generous filling. This is the Guinness version:



But the trad beef actually brought tears of nostalgia to my eyes: the meat had been cooked for so long that it had almost completely dissolved, creating a thick, beefy, salty ragu-like sauce. Took me back, it did.

And the restroom had this on the wall: