The smell of pies always reminds me of home.

My fondest memory is waking to the delicious aroma of freshly baked beef pies wafting through the house. I still think of my mum everytime I smell pies baking.

It's the comfort food I grew up with. The food I missed most when I moved away from home. I started baking pies when I was homesick. The friends and neighbours I shared my pies with loved them, and I loved how happy my pies made them.

Eventaully, I began making pies, not because I was homesick, but because everybody loved them so much. Someone said to me that my pies are like 'warm hugs', and that's exactly how I feel.

Love and care goes into each hand made mighty pie. Tender beef, juicy chicken and fresh vegetables in aromatic curry sauces, or delicious savoury gravies wrapped in light, flaky, buttery pastry crusts that would make my mum proud.