Inside Si King’s ‘Propa’ pie restaurant kitchen in Sunderland
I wanted to see why the pies were creating such a buzz in the city and why they were becoming a firm favourite part of the pre-match ritual for Sunderland fans.
Set in the shadow of the Stadium of Light, Sheepfolds Stables is a recently opened development aiming to provide a hub of food and culture. It houses favourites like I Scream for Pizza, Mother Mercy, fine dining site Ember and Si King’s pie restaurant Propa.
I arrived around 11am, before the lunchtime rush, to meet with Si’s right-hand man in the venture, Rory Welch.
Rory, 33, described the whirlwind of being approached by the Hairy Biker star to help him run the business.
“One minute I was walking my dog and then I got a call from Si,” he said.
“The next thing I know, I was making mince and dumplings with him in his kitchen for his wife!”
The Propa team: Rory, Joey and Owen. (Image: Sarah Caldecott) He showed me inside the snug, but pristine kitchen, shared by the team, where the pie-based magic happened. Towering ovens sat by a wall, with the warm glow of yellow light illuminating crisp and golden pies that had been hiding in plain sight behind their windowed doors.
Wafts of gravy-scented air found their way to my nostrils as I said my hellos to the other chefs, Joey Blythe and Owen Connell, masters of the pie-making art.
Lashings of gravy on this pie portion. (Image: Sarah Caldecott) The first, and most important, part of making a pie is the filling. And Propa’s fillings are all made with ingredients that are sourced from within a 50-mile radius of the venue. The steak they use is cooked for 12 hours at a specific temperature to preserve its tenderness, making sure it is neither too chewy nor mushy.
I learned how the machine used to put lids on the pies had custom-made pressers, with crimping nodules to create the bumpy pie edge that everyone loves so much.
(Image: Sarah Caldecott) Pulling up my sleeves and washing my hands in the basin next to the pastry table, I got stuck in as Joey showed me the care and expertise that go into making a Propa pie.
Pie expert Joey showed me how the meat-filled delights are made. (Image: Sarah Caldecott) First, the pastry. It is deliciously crisp and also beautifully chewy when baked – an oxymoron of a description that makes the entire experience wonderful. I got my hands on a rolling pin and was taught the art of pushing forwards – always forwards – with my palms, not a grip.
After the filling was placed in the pastry-lined pie dishes – all uniform and lined up like a military parade – I set about cutting out the lids. There is something so satisfying about unsheathing the pie tops, sliding the excess pastry away in one fell swoop from the several circles I had left with the cutter. Although I must admit, the last circle snagged, so it became as unsatisfying as it was oddly satisfying.
(Image: Sarah Caldecott) Now, to ensure the filling was wall-to-wall, the lid had to be firmly pressed into place. First by hand, pushing the pastry into all the air pockets atop the meat. Then, the bespoke piece of machinery – a lever which simultaneously crimped the pies and cut an air hole in the top.
(Image: Sarah Caldecott) I loved the lever. It, however, did not love me equally in return, failing to punch holes in the top of two of the pies I offered to its compartment.
(Image: Sarah Caldecott) But, after an egg wash, I was happy that I had followed the recipe and stuck to the plan. I was the proud father of a handful of pies that, hopefully, Si King himself would be proud of.
(Image: Sarah Caldecott) My goodness, though, was it hot.
The fruits of my labour. (Image: Sarah Caldecott)
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Sunderland is not known for its heat, but the midday sun, coupled with the apron and reflective surfaces, meant that I left the kitchen even more in awe of the job that this collective of chefs does. It was hot. And they do that job, in that kitchen, every day.
A pie is not just for lunchtime. It is for life.
And these guys, from Si downwards, live pies.