Broadway Market Pork Pie Deli Crawl: Canal Towpath Walk

Three Hackney furniture makers emerging from their Vyner Street workshop and a visiting potter from Sheffield kick off their Saturday pork pie deli crawl where the brick hump of the Regent's Canal footbridge meets the southern entrance of Broadway Market. Along this Victorian thoroughfare connecting the waterway to the grassy expanse of London Fields, cold raised pies sit at the intersection of traditional British butchery and East London small-batch fermentation. Arriving before the midday coffee queues spill across the kerbs lets the quartet move smoothly between permanent tiled storefronts and open-air trestle tables stacked with glazed earthenware platters.

Stepping off the towpath by the gasworks holders, the group begins at the southern butcher and charcuterie counters where whole heritage pigs are broken down on site each week. Because the butchers render their own leaf lard from the kidney suet and back fat, the hot-water crust on their house pies bakes to a deep, nutty biscuit brown with tiny blisters along the vertical walls. The Sheffield potter taps the side of an uncut drum with a knuckle; a hollow, resonant thud tells you the shell was baked freestanding on a deck tray rather than steamed inside a foil cup.

Regulars who walk the market with dogs or cycling panniers ask for the medium sharing drum rather than individual party bites, as the wider diameter holds more clarified bone stock around the hand-diced shoulder meat. When the server slices the pie in half on the wooden board, the pale amber jelly clings to the coarse pork and white-pepper seasoning without weeping into the bottom crust.

Before leaving the counter, the makers also ask for a sheet of heavy waxed butcher paper and a wooden skewer or two, which keeps fingers clean when passing wedges around a park bench later in the morning. Watching how local shoppers pair their cold pies with a handful of dry-cured snacking salami or crispy pork scratchings shows how deeply butcher craft anchors the southern block of the street.

Moving northward past the Victorian pub corners and independent bookshops, the second phase of the crawl compares how East London bakers rework the classic Midlands recipe with bolder spice and orchard fruit. At a neighborhood delicatessen mid-block, the pastry case features a pork and smoky chorizo pie whose paprika oils tint the internal jelly a warm copper orange, alongside a lighter pork, caramelized onion, and Bramley apple bake topped with fennel seeds. Tasting a quarter of each back to back shows how sweet roasted apple cuts through rich belly fat just as effectively as vinegar.

Skip the novelty gourmet pies piled with cold mashed-potato swirls or soggy puff-pastry lattice lids near the busiest music stalls; those hybrid bakes lose their crispness within an hour of leaving the oven and turn heavy in a tote bag. Stick to proper hot-water crust cylinders with sealed, hand-crimped rims and firm, sliceable fillings that travel cleanly from stall to park.

For walkers who want a third texture contrast before reaching the northern end of the street, ducking into one of the permanent European-style delis reveals coarse country terrines and crusted pâté en croûte sliced to order off long rectangular loaves. Ordering a thin finger of pistachio-studded pork and duck loaf alongside the British drums turns the crawl into a cross-Channel pastry comparison.

Broadway Market shines when it comes to sharp, live-cultured condiments that wake up the savory richness of lard pastry and cured pork. Stopping at a small-batch pickle and ferment stall near the schoolyard wall, the four friends pick up a jar of caraway-spiced sauerkraut, a tub of fiery horseradish mustard, and a handful of sour dill gherkins fished straight from a wooden barrel. Spoonfuls of crisp, tangy kraut piled onto a wedge of cold pork pie bring bright lactic crunch to every bite.

Once the canvas basket holds three distinct pies, fermented greens, and a crusty baton of sesame sourdough, the group walks north through the iron park gates into London Fields. Instead of hovering on the crowded pavement outside the coffee roasters, they head for the long wooden benches beneath the mature plane trees along the western path or spread a waterproof workshop blanket near the cricket pitch.

If an East London squall sweeps across the grass, walkers can retreat south to the covered arches beside Mare Street or step into one of the historic wood-paneled pubs lining Broadway Market that allow daytime market-goers to pair their deli parcels with a pint of local cask bitter or dry farmhouse cider. Unwrapping the pies after a brisk ten-minute walk from the canal bridge gives the chilled pastry time to reach ambient temperature, releasing the smoky aroma of cured bacon and toasted fennel seed as soon as the knife breaks the crust.

Because Broadway Market's open-air stalls operate on weekend schedules while permanent neighborhood delicatessens and butcher counters stay open across the surrounding Hackney streets all week, checking your options before crossing the canal keeps the outing adaptable. Opening the Karpo APP lets the group map out nearby charcuterie counters, craft bakeries, and cheese shops across London Fields, Haggerston, and Victoria Park Village, connecting their pastry stops into a smooth East End walking loop.

When the main market strip gets too packed around midday, the Karpo APP makes it easy to pivot fifteen minutes east along the Regent's Canal towpath toward Lauriston Road and Victoria Park, or west toward the quiet waterside cafés of De Beauvoir Town. After finishing the last crust of fennel-and-apple pork pie under the London Fields canopy, the four friends pack their empty jars into the canvas tote and stroll back down the towpath toward their studio.

Along the return walk beside the narrowboats and brick lock gates, anyone still carrying an uncut drum can pick up a wedge of clothbound West Country cheddar or a bottle of unfiltered apple juice from the corner grocers near Ada Street, turning the afternoon workshop tea break into a second round of the crawl. Keeping a small wooden board and a serrated knife in your bag means every canal lock and park bench between Hackney and Islington becomes an effortless tasting stop.