A few years ago I was in the Scotsmans Pack at Hathersage, a delightful pub where the menu of home- made food spoils you for choice, and had a good dinner.

The man at the next table had ordered steak and ale pie. I'd seen it on the menu but wasn't sure if there would be pastry top and bottom. I hate those bowls with puff pastry tops.

Now I enjoyed what I ate but when his pie arrived I instantly realised my mistake. There was pastry top and bottom and the filling looked packed with meat.

Good? I asked and, as his mouth was full, he nodded, and if ever a man can eat pie smugly while another man covets, he did.

It's taken a few years but we're back at the Scotsmans Pack, which has lost the apostrophe on the sign but not its reputation for pie.

"Our famous homemade steak and ale pie" it says on the menu and it must be true because when I told a chap later where I'd been he said "Oh their pie is famous."

The menu, on a blackboard and printed, is still as long as your arm. And although I was sorely tempted by rabbit casserole, venison on horseradish mash, Barnsley chop, herby sausages and onion gravy, slow roast belly pork and braised steak, there wasn't really any doubt.

But first I double-checked with the barmaid that it had pastry top and bottom. "It has. It's baked in a tray and if you get a corner piece you get even more pastry," she smiled.

Reader, I got a corner bit.

Now I can sense you're half hoping I didn't enjoy it because when a restaurant reviewer has a poor meal it makes for a more entertaining read. Well, sorry to disappoint you.

The pastry is impressively thick but still on the light side and the filling, big pieces of steak cooked in beer on the point of falling apart into shreds, is rich, intense and tender. It is a proper pie with a proper beer gravy.

It comes with a bowl of chips and another bursting with exceptionally well-cooked fresh vegetables, including some very good red cabbage. All this for £9.25.

The Scotsman Pack, owned for a number of years now by Nick Beagrie (who also has the Original Bakewell Pudding Shop), is a friendly, welcoming sort of pub with mock-Tudor suburban feel outside and a long bar with fake fires and real coal in scuttles at either end.

It also has an enormous chair said to have once belonged to Little John, of Robin Hood fame, whose grave is in the village churchyard.

We'd begun with a pleasant carrot and coconut soup (£3.75), much helped along by a tin of coconut milk and a super, tangy, chunky game terrine (£4.95). My wife had ordered the much more girly chicken, prawn and pepper one but head chef Mark Battle sent word it hadn't set yet.Both starters came with good warm slices of tomato bread.

For those who like fish pie, the Pack's version for £10.95 is a real belter.
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