The first Pie Meet of 2012 brought together a record 19 attendees and associates on an unseasonally bright and mild January afternoon.

I was delighted to see Terence Cecil, despite his somewhat mixed expression; I call it a thousand-pie stare.

Freewheeling Brian Catchpole rode in off the prairie [Lower Clapton] and hitched his pony to a post before sidling into the saloon . . .

. . . wherein were ensconced earlycomers Ian Jentle and Chris Charalambous. Perhaps it was the reassuring presence of Chris that helped Ian to overcome a long-held aversion to liquor stretching back 30 years? In any case we were proud to witness such rehabilitation.

The many and varied participants were liberally sprinkled about the shop, finding boothage where they could. Edward Mosse and Linda Jones shared a notably narrow marble top up the back.

A notable subject of discussion that came up during the afternoon was the possible commission of an 'Olympic Game Pie' and what that might be stuffed with. Another topic was Wojtek the Bear, who helped move ammunition during the Battle of Monte Cassino. I'm not suggesting a bear filling the Olympic Game Pie, but it would have to be something with a sprinkling of shrapnel and five shortcrust rings on top.

We were blessed with the presence of colonial chums from down under. Seen far right are Mary Green and Louisa Pennell, taking in cultural highlights of London in a month-long tour of Europe. I think they were pleasantly surprised; enough to indulge in a half-pie 'chaser'.

A pie is best chased with eyes open and mouth wide . . . Jean O'Reilly was perhaps distracted by her fancy olive oil which looked all wrong in this setting. What would Poppa Manze have thought?

Tom Leader took a dim view.

The might of Montague St John Martin cast an impressive shadow over the come-latelys of the Pie and Mash Club, for he has trodden down the paths of history as an original member of 'The Pie and Mash Club of Great Britain'. This illustrious brigade, headed by the famous and hard-to-find John Smith and son, bestowed distinctive spoon-and-piedish trophies upon the best shops through the early to mid-1990s. They also produced a highly prized and much-sought after gazetteer of pie and mash establishments in that pre-internet era. Visiting London for the day from the wilds of Lincs, Monty's appearance was at once resonant and auspicious, for he is Pie and Mash's missing link.

Andy Potter scooted in from Farringdon. I think he was hoping to exchange a few words with Len Wilcock about a controversial disallowed goal in the Aveley FC vs Margate game on New Year's Eve. Although Len couldn't make it, he did send me this email: 'Can you tell him that my son was the Assistant Referee who ruled out the Aveley goal. That should please him ;-)'

Behind Andy in the queue, Chris C was going up for seconds (or thirds). His position in the league is as monumentally ascendant as the Shard (up above).

I was greeted with a black leather glove.

But when the pies were down Rikk Lucas soon lost that glovin' feelin.

I was summoned to the back of the shop by long-time-no-see Pete Riley, aka Riley Ace of Pies. The Ace was keen to introduce me to his new pals, Mike Millard and Dave Pead, pictured herewith far right. Dave manfully shared a joke with me about his character-forming name before proceeding to 'twitter' our exploits at Manze's to the worldwide web of twits using his i-pond device. As for me, I'm more of a woofer than a tweeter.

Below the blue plaque is an understated but rather more telling piece of history-in-the-making:

'To Our Eel Customers
We regret to inform you that eel stocks are extremely low, as a consequence prices are continually increasing. It is possible stocks of eels may disappear completely in the near future.'

Paul Grice dug in while the going was good. A mid-life career change from accountancy to online gambling has added zest and a devil-may-care attitude to the Preston man's outlook. Is the grass greener on the other side? I'm certain the liquor is.

These two are jockeying for position just below the medal zone: Edward 'Effervescent Aspirin' Mosse and Michael 'Mystical Trespasser' Goldwater.

Group photo foiled by fleet-footed fogey catching a bogey.

From Tower Bridge Road this valiant group made towards Bermondsey's shores and a destination originally intended for later in the season.

King Edward was to the Manor born. And a well appointed tavern was perfectly situated immediately across the cobbles.

The Angel at Bermondsey Wall East served to quench our collective parchment, its upstairs lounge providing a sweeping vista of this corner of Thames. Hither shall we return.

St@

The West

The North

The East