When I was a little girl, the best day of the week was Friday. Not because it was the end of the school week, though that was obviously fantastic. No, Friday was the day when my mum, my little sister and me trundled up to my great grandparents’ house in the next village and my gran cooked dinner. And it was always pasties. My granny Peggy would disappear into her kitchen and emerge with the most beautiful pasties week after week and those Fridays stand out as highlights of my early childhood.