By Dave Mcgrath ( foodie, designer , footie fan ,Rugby part timer ….) Guest post
G’day. Name’s Dave. I’m a 47-year-old brickie-turned-kitchen-warrior from suburban Newcastle, and I’ve been feeding my missus and two daughters — Ellie and Soph — for yonks now. Let me tell ya, nothin’ gets ’em more chuffed than when I dish up a proper Aussie meat pie on a Sunday arvo.
Now, I’m not talkin’ about the frozen servo pies that taste like roadkill in gravy. Nah, I mean the real deal — golden crust, rich meaty guts, a bit of onion and spice, and none of that soupy rubbish that slops out when you bite in. Just solid, honest food. The kind of feed that makes ya proud to be straya.
So, if you’re keen to have a crack at makin’ your own, here’s my go-to recipe that’ll have your mob beggin’ for more. No chef hat needed — just some patience, a cold beer on the side, and a bit of love.
Dave’s Proper Aussie Meat Pie Recipe
Makes 6 chunky pies or one big family whopper.
What you’ll need:
For the filling:
- 1 tablespoon olive oil
- 1 brown onion, diced
- 2 garlic cloves, minced
- 500g beef mince (go for chuck or something fatty — don’t get fancy)
- 1 tablespoon plain flour
- 1 tablespoon tomato paste
- 1 tablespoon Worcestershire sauce
- 1 beef stock cube, crushed
- 1 teaspoon Vegemite (trust me – adds real depth)
- 1 cup water
- Salt and pepper to taste
- Optional: a dash of BBQ sauce or a glug of red wine if you’re feelin’ flash
For the pastry:
- 2 sheets puff pastry (top)
- 2 sheets shortcrust pastry (bottom)
- 1 egg, beaten (for brushing)
How to put it together:
1. Make the meaty guts (the filling):
Chuck your olive oil in a saucepan over medium heat. When it’s hot, whack in the onion and garlic, and cook till it smells bloody amazing and the onion’s gone soft.
Throw in the mince and brown it up good. Break it up with a wooden spoon — no one wants meat clumps in their pie unless you’re feeding the dog.
Once the meat’s browned, stir through the flour. This’ll help thicken things up later — don’t skip it or your pie’ll be a sloppy mess. Add the tomato paste, Worcestershire, crushed stock cube, Vegemite, and water. Stir it all together like a true battler.
Let it simmer low for 20-25 mins, stirring now and then so it doesn’t stick. You’re after a thick, rich mix that holds its shape when you scoop it. If it’s still a bit wet, cook it a bit longer with the lid off. Season it with salt and pepper, then let it cool down to room temp. Hot filling in cold pastry? You’ll have soggy bottoms faster than a wet bather.
2. Sort your pastry:
Get your oven cranked to 200°C (that’s 180°C fan-forced). Grease your pie tins or a big ol’ pie dish with butter or spray — no one wants their pie stuck like a mozzie on a windscreen.
Line your tins with the shortcrust pastry for the base. Press it in gently but firmly — no air bubbles. Prick the base with a fork so it doesn’t puff up like your uncle after a curry.
Spoon in your cooled meat mix. Fill it up good, but don’t overdo it or it’ll burst like a dodgy tyre on the freeway.
Top it with puff pastry. Trim the edges and pinch the two pastries together so it’s sealed tight — use your fingers or the back of a fork. Make a couple of little slits in the top for steam to escape, or she’ll blow her top.
Brush with the beaten egg so it gets that golden brown colour that makes you wanna dive in face-first.
3. Bake it like a legend:
Pop it in the oven for about 25-30 minutes or until the top’s puffed and browned and the house smells like a Bunnings sausage sizzle. If you’re doing one big pie, maybe give it 40-45 minutes.
4. Serve it up:
Let it rest a few mins — molten pie guts can burn the roof off your gob if you’re too keen. I usually plate it with mash, peas, and a squirt of tomato sauce. Cold beer on the side, of course.
Final Thoughts from a Pie-Loving Dad
Look, at the end of the day, makin’ a proper meat pie isn’t about bein’ fancy. It’s about heart. It’s about feedin’ your family something warm, filling, and homemade. My girls reckon my pies are better than the bakery down the road, and that’s all the trophy I need.
So, give it a red-hot go. Doesn’t matter if your first batch turns out a bit rustic — just means it’s got character. That’s the Aussie way.
