By Samuel Osei-Frempong
Sunyani, Jan. 01,GNA – The area clocks chimed at the interval, the P&T tower blew its siren at midday but none could tell when the delicious Sunyani Catering Rest house meat pie would be served.
The children in the government residential area and their few friends on its fringes knew by intuition the hour when the hot and puffy pie will pop up and they will wait with bated breath to sniff the raising aroma that comes with the bake.
Before it is sold out to the local anxious connoisseurs, pre orders would be taken half of the bake.
I still imagine and sometimes feel the taste in my mouth. I still feel its minced meat and savory filling melting in my mouth with juices dripping down my chin. Mr Ben Kusi, a 55 year old resident of Sunyani, recalls.
As a child, mother will ask me to hurry up and get her the meat pie and glass bottle of soft drink.
She could blackmail me with the pie. I did all chores I did not like. We never got over it, Mr Kofi Bawua, who normally peeked through the hedge around his father’s bungalow which formed the boundary with Sunyani Catering Rest house, reminisces.
Feeling its warmth, wrapped in that white soft paper tissue was in it self satisfying. One fascinating thing about it was that, it was big enough for two people, Mrs Evelyn Nyarko said.
Every step taken on the path to the house was well calculated. The children, house keepers and adults avoided unnecessary conversations and detours on their way home.
It was also prominent on the Christmas /New Year menu.
The anticipation of having a bite of their own, guarded their interest in the delicacy as they held it with all their will and with all their might.
Many caterers who kneaded and baked the pie have lost the recipe, many have also died and the rest are, minding their own business wherever life has thrown them but Madam Ama Bonsu, a certified Caterer and teacher, is probably among the few who has the recipe and will bake it on request as a labour of love.
She will not reveal her trade secret but explains that there are no special addictves but one must be consistant and time conscious, during kneading, filling and baking.
When I was on practicals at the Catering house, we were under strict orders. High standards were demanded of us as we threw and rolled every pinch of flour under the pin. We handled it like a baby. Our superiors said, it was delicate and a love thing. And truly, as we watched the pie browning in the oven, its golden glow validated every word uttered by the head chef.
Creating such a delicacy elevated your spirit. It is wrapped with sentimentality. It felt so good watching patrons eat with passion. You also got heart broken when patrons came late to find the trays empty. The spectacle of tears running down the cheeks of disappointed children was akin to one of those sad moments with accompanying sad songs;they say so much, Ama Bonsu said while watching the bake.
At the moment, noone makes anything that comes close to that pie in town. It used to attract connoisseurs from other big towns like Berekum, Techiman and Wenchi around Sunyani, the Bono Regional Capital, kneading nostalgia into those who once savoured it.
But someone got lucky enough to relive his childhood not at that Catering Rest house but at the famous Sunyani Tonsuom Estate.
The sight of a bottle of soft drink and a precipitating Catering Rest house meat pie served as a dizzying, exciting memorial to a cherished childhood.
“This is real,” his benefactor woke him up from his realms of fascination.
As the fizzy drink and the bite of the pie mixed in his mouth, he opened his mouth and signed, “Ha.”
“This is exactly what we ate as children and young adults in our hallowed Sunyani Government Residential Area. The Catering Rest house pie”
GNA