The day was Thursday.
It was cold and rainy.
I knew where I was going to have lunch, the same place I always go when I am in the Wairarapa.
Cafe Mirabelle in Carterton was the scene of the pie crime.
The pie was beef in redwine with mushrooms. It had pieces of smoked ham hock. The pastry was flakey and buttery, and had a little bit of crunch.
I am guiity of happily devouring that pie, and then wanting to tell everyone about it.
It was $8, but I would of happily paid double.
Beautiful beautiful french goodies. Megan bakes everything from scratch, and Olivier looks after everyone out the front. I almost feel bad about just writing about the pie, because everytime I go there I have something that is equally as amazing, and I am pretty fussy when it comes to food.
