Steak and Ale Pie (Guinness)

Steak and ale pie is one of the few pub dishes that comes out better at home than it does across the bar. Eight hundred grams of beef stewing steak braised slowly in Guinness with onions, carrots and potatoes, until the beef pulls apart under a fork, all of it under a lid of puff pastry that goes on at the last minute.

What separates a good one from a harsh one is how much stout goes in against how much beef, and almost nobody tells you that number. I have set it out below, next to what four other well known recipes use, along with the two small technique details that decide whether the gravy tastes deep or bitter, and why the advice everyone gives about boiling the bitterness off does the opposite.

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Which Ale to Use, and Is Guinness an Ale?

Almost every recipe says to use a stout and stops there, which is not much help standing in front of a shelf of forty beers. The best ale for a steak and ale pie is whichever one carries more malt than hops, and the reason is worth two minutes, because it is the difference between a gravy with depth and one with a harsh edge on it.

Beer carries bitterness from two separate places: the hops, and the dark-roasted malt. They do not behave the same way in a pot. The bittering compounds in hops are barely soluble as they come, and it is prolonged cooking that converts them into the soluble form, while the pleasant floral and citrus aromatics are the part that evaporates. So a heavily hopped beer gets sharper over three hours in the oven, not rounder. Roasted-malt bitterness does not do that. It reads as coffee and dark chocolate and it sits still.

The best choice is a stout or a porter. Guinness is the obvious one and it is what this recipe is built on, but any dry stout or a porter does the same job. Their bitterness is mostly roast rather than hop, so it deepens the gravy instead of turning on you, and the roasted flavours sit naturally beside browned beef.

A brown ale, a mild or a malty bitter also work well. These are the traditional choice and they give a lighter, sweeter gravy than a stout does. If you want the pie to taste of beef first and beer second, this is the way to go.

Do not use an IPA or anything advertised as hoppy. This is the one genuine mistake. An IPA carries the most hops of anything on the shelf, and hop bitterness is exactly the kind that a long braise concentrates while driving off the aromas that made it pleasant in the first place. A pale, citrusy IPA that is lovely in a glass will make a thin, harsh gravy. Lager is not a disaster, it simply brings very little.

And yes, Guinness is an ale. The split between ale and lager is about the yeast and the temperature it works at rather than the colour of what comes out: ales are fermented warm with a top-fermenting yeast, lagers cold with a bottom-fermenting one. Stout is a top-fermented style, so a steak and Guinness pie is a steak and ale pie. Nobody will correct you either way.

Whichever you pick, the quantity still matters as much as the choice, which is the next section.

How Much Stout, Against How Much Beef

Stout is bitter to begin with, and whether that reads as depth or as harshness comes down to how much beef there is to carry it. Almost no recipe states the ratio, so here is where the well known ones sit, measured as millilitres of stout for every 100 g of meat.

• This recipe. 500 ml of Guinness to 800 g of beef, which is 62.5 ml per 100 g. Enough that it tastes unmistakably of stout, not so much that the gravy turns sharp.
• Mary Berry. About 56 ml per 100 g, plus two tablespoons of redcurrant jelly.
• Two of the popular food blogs. Around 38 to 44 ml per 100 g, both with a little brown sugar stirred in.
• Where it goes wrong. Past about 80 ml per 100 g with nothing sweet to balance it, the stout stops being a background note and starts being the whole gravy. If a recipe you are following works out up there, cut the beer or add the beef.
• The common thread. Every recipe worth following either keeps the stout well under that line, or balances it with something sweet, or both. A tablespoon of redcurrant jelly at the end will rescue a batch that has already gone sharp.

The second thing is a technique detail rather than a quantity, and it is the one most often skipped. Tomato purée tipped into the pot along with the Guinness and the stock never meets hot fat on its own. Fried in the pan for two minutes first it darkens from bright red to rust and turns sweet and savoury; poured straight into liquid it stays sharp, and that sharpness reads as bitterness alongside the stout. It is a two minute change that costs nothing.

One more thing, because it is the advice you will find everywhere and it is backwards. People say to boil an ale braise down hard to cook the bitterness off. Bitterness in beer comes from hop acids, and prolonged boiling makes those more soluble, not less, while the pleasant aromatic compounds are exactly the ones that evaporate. Reduce it hard and you drive off the good half and concentrate the harsh half. Keep the lid on and thicken at the end instead.

Where Steak and Ale Pie Comes From

Steak and ale pie is proper British comfort food, and the idea behind it is old. Medieval pies were called “coffyns”, where the pastry was really just a tough case to hold the filling rather than something you ate. Over time the pastry got better and the pie became the thing itself.

Cooking the beef in ale rather than plain stock is a newer twist, and a good one, giving the filling that dark, rich depth. By the twentieth century it had earned its place on every pub menu, and alongside a pint it is hard to beat.

A Closer Look at the Ingredients

• Beef stewing steak, 800 g. Chuck or braising steak. Both are worked muscles full of connective tissue, which is the point: given a long, low braise that tissue turns to gelatin and the meat goes soft and glossy rather than dry. A lean cut such as rump will only get tougher the longer you cook it.
• Guinness Draught, 500 ml. Draught, not Extra Stout. Extra Stout is a markedly more bitter and stronger beer and it comes straight through into the gravy. Any dark British ale or a milder stout works the same way.
• Beef stock, 400 ml. It is here to dilute as much as to flavour. Stout on its own would be far too assertive over a two hour braise.
• Tomato purée, 2 tbsp. Fried in the fat before any liquid goes in. This is the single cheapest improvement in the recipe.
• Potatoes, 500 g. Most steak and ale pies leave these out and serve chips alongside. I like them in the filling, which makes it a one dish dinner, and they go in for the last stretch only so they hold their shape instead of collapsing.
• Ready-rolled puff pastry. A lid, not a case. There is no base, so there is no soggy bottom to worry about and no blind baking to do.
• Chestnut mushrooms, 250 g, optional. The commonest addition to a steak and ale pie, and they suit the stout. Quartered rather than sliced, so they stay as pieces through a two hour braise, and browned with the vegetables rather than dropped in raw.
• Redcurrant jelly, 1 tbsp, optional. The insurance policy. Nearly every other steak and ale pie carries some kind of sweetener and this one does not, so if your stout is a bitter one, or you could only get Extra Stout, this is what pulls it back. Stir it in at the end and taste rather than adding it at the start.

Equipment You’ll Need

Ingredient Substitutions

• No Guinness. Any dark British ale, a porter, or a milder stout. Whatever you use, taste it first: if the beer is bitter in the glass it will be bitter in the pie.
• No alcohol at all. Replace the stout with the same volume of beef stock and add a tablespoon of Worcestershire sauce and a teaspoon of balsamic for the depth you lose. It is a different pie, but a good one.
• A different cut. Shin or brisket both work and both want the longer end of the braise. Leftover roast beef can be used, but add it after the vegetables so it does not fall apart.
• Shortcrust instead of puff. Fine for a lid, and sturdier if you are transporting the pie. It needs a few minutes longer in the oven.
• No potatoes. Leave them out and serve chips or mash alongside, which is how most pubs do it. Nothing else in the recipe changes.

How to Make Steak and Ale Pie, Step by Step

Full quantities are in the recipe card below. The filling is a slow braise and it wants to cool before the pastry goes on, so start it well before you plan to eat, or make the filling the day before.

1. Flour and brown the beef. Toss the diced beef in the flour and shake off what does not cling. Brown it in batches in a hot pan, with room around each piece, and set it aside as it colours. Crowd the pan and the beef steams instead of browning, which costs you the deepest flavour in the dish. Keep an eye on any loose flour in the base: once it blackens it is bitter, and it will taste that way through the whole pot.
2. Soften the vegetables in the same pot. Onions, carrots and celery, eight to ten minutes until genuinely soft rather than just hot. If you are using the mushrooms, they go in for the last few minutes and they want room: crowd them and they release their water and stew in it instead of colouring. Then turn the heat down before the garlic goes in and give it one minute only. Garlic carries more sugar and less water than onion, so it burns at a lower temperature, and burnt garlic cannot be rescued, only removed.
3. Fry the tomato purée. Stir the purée through the vegetables and fry it for two minutes before any liquid goes near the pot. Watch it change: bright red to a dull brick rust, and the smell moving from sharp to sweet. It is the step most recipes leave out, and it is the one that stops the gravy tasting sour underneath the stout.
4. Guinness and stock, and scrape the base. Pour both in and scrape every browned scrap off the bottom of the pot with a wooden spoon. They come away easily once liquid hits them, and they are worth more to the finished gravy than any stock cube.
5. Beef back in, and season. Return the beef with whatever juices have collected under it, then the thyme, black pepper and a good pinch of salt. Season now rather than only at the end, so the salt has two hours to get into the meat rather than sitting on top of it.
6. Lid on, lowest simmer, one hour. Bring it up to a boil and then straight down to the barest simmer, with the lid on. Keep it on. The advice you will read everywhere is to boil an ale braise down to cook the bitterness off, and it does the opposite: the hop acids that taste bitter become more soluble the longer you boil, while the aromatic compounds you actually liked are the ones that evaporate.
7. Potatoes in for the last stretch. Add the diced potatoes and give it another thirty minutes to an hour, still covered. Go by the beef rather than the clock. It is ready when a piece pulls apart under light pressure from a fork, and chuck is quite capable of wanting the full hour. Adding the potatoes now rather than at the start is what stops them dissolving into the gravy.
8. Taste it, and adjust. This is the moment that matters. If it is sharper than you want, stir in the redcurrant jelly, or a teaspoon of soft brown sugar, and taste again. It is on the ingredient list as optional for exactly this: almost every other steak and ale pie carries a sweetener and this one does not, so it is the lever to reach for. If the gravy is loose, thicken it with a spoonful of flour slaked in cold water.
9. Let the filling cool. At least half an hour off the heat, or overnight in the fridge, which is better still. Puff pastry laid on a steaming filling is steamed from underneath before the oven can crisp it, and it sinks into the gravy instead of rising over it. This is the single most skipped step in every pie recipe I have read.
10. Assemble and glaze. Oven on at 180C. Move the filling to the pie dish and leave a centimetre of headroom below the rim, or the gravy boils up over the pastry instead of under it. Lay the sheet over the top and let it fall into place rather than stretching it to reach: pastry pulled tight shrinks back in the oven and drags itself off the rim. Press it down, crimp, and trim the overhang with a knife. Cut a slit in the middle so the steam has a way out, then brush the whole lid with beaten egg right to the edges, because that is what browns it. Roll the trimmings out again and cut a couple of leaves for the top if you like: they cost nothing and they are the difference between a pie and a pie somebody made.
11. Bake, then rest. Thirty minutes, until the pastry is deep gold and crisp rather than pale and set. Then leave it alone for a few minutes before you cut in, so the filling settles and does not flood the plate.

Recipe Card for Steak and Ale Pie

Storing, Freezing and Reheating

• In the fridge. A baked pie keeps three days covered. The filling on its own keeps four, and genuinely improves overnight, so making it a day ahead is the easiest thing you can do for this recipe.
• Freezing the filling. Cool it, bag it flat and freeze for up to three months. Defrost in the fridge overnight, then assemble and bake as normal.
• Freezing it assembled. Build the pie, do not glaze it, and freeze it raw in its dish. Bake from frozen at 180C, glazing it just before it goes in, and give it fifty minutes to an hour rather than thirty.
• Reheating. Oven, not microwave: 170C for twenty to twenty-five minutes, loosely covered with foil for the first fifteen so the pastry does not darken further. A microwave turns the lid to leather.

🍽 What to serve with it: there are already potatoes in the filling, so it needs something green and something sharp rather than more starch. Buttered peas or savoy cabbage, and a spoonful of pickled red cabbage on the side of the plate. If you have left the potatoes out, this is where thick chips or a mound of mash belongs, with the gravy poured over.

FAQ for Steak and Ale Pie

Why did my steak and ale pie taste bitter?

Almost always the ratio rather than anything you did. Stout is bitter to start with, and if there is a lot of it against not much beef the gravy has nothing to carry it. Work out the millilitres of stout per 100 g of meat: this recipe runs at 62.5 and the well known ones sit between 38 and 56, so anything up near 80 or 90 with no sweetener in it is asking for trouble. The other two causes are tomato purée that never got fried, and garlic or loose flour scorched in the pan before the liquid went in. A tablespoon of redcurrant jelly at the end will rescue a batch that is already sharp.

Should I use Guinness Draught or Extra Stout?

Draught. Extra Stout is a noticeably more bitter and stronger beer, and over a two hour braise that comes through clearly. If Extra Stout is what you have, use it and plan on stirring in a sweetener at the end.

Can I boil it down to cook the bitterness off?

No, and it is worth knowing why, because you will read the opposite everywhere. The bitterness in beer comes from hop acids, and boiling for a long time makes them more soluble rather than less, while the aroma compounds you liked are the volatile ones that evaporate. Reducing hard leaves you with a sharper gravy, not a rounder one. Keep the lid on and thicken at the end instead.

My beef is still tough. How long should it really cook?

Longer. Chuck wants two hours at a bare simmer as a minimum, and it is not unusual for it to want closer to two and a half. Tough beef at the end of the stated time means it needs more time, not more heat: a hard boil tightens the muscle fibres and squeezes moisture out while the connective tissue is still setting. Go by whether a piece pulls apart under a fork.

Do I have to cool the filling before the pastry goes on?

If you want a crisp lid, yes. Half an hour is the minimum and overnight in the fridge is better. Pastry laid on a hot filling is steamed from below before the oven has a chance to crisp it, so it sinks and goes pale and doughy underneath. It is the most commonly skipped step in a pie recipe and the one that most often ruins the top.

Does this pie need a pastry base as well as a lid?

It does not, and that is deliberate. A lid-only pie is what most British pubs serve, and it sidesteps the soggy bottom entirely. If you want a base, blind bake it first with foil and beans for around fifteen minutes and stand the dish on a preheated baking tray, or the gravy will soak straight through it.

Can I make the filling in a slow cooker?

Yes, and it is a good way to do it. Brown the beef, soften the vegetables and fry the tomato purée on the hob first, because none of that happens in a slow cooker, then move everything across and cook on low for six to eight hours. Add the potatoes for the last hour. Reduce it on the hob afterwards if it needs thickening, and cool it before the pastry goes on.

Can I make individual pies?

This quantity fills five or six individual dishes of around 10 cm. Stand them on a baking tray so you can move them in and out of the oven together, and start checking at twenty minutes because the smaller lids colour faster.

Is it suitable for children, given the beer?

Yes. Two hours of simmering drives off almost all of the alcohol, and what is left is a trace. What does survive is the flavour, and stout is a strong one, so if you are cooking for children who do not like it you are better off with the alcohol-free version made on beef stock than with a shorter cook.

What beef should I use for the steak pie?

For the steak pie, it’s recommended to use beef that’s well-suited for slow cooking, as this ensures the meat becomes tender and flavourful. Cuts such as chuck or braising steak are ideal. These cuts have a good amount of marbling, which breaks down during cooking, resulting in succulent, melt-in-the-mouth pieces of beef.

What ale should I use for the steak and ale pie?

While our recipe specifically calls for Guinness due to its deep, roasted flavours and slight bitterness, you can use other ales as well. Traditional British ales, such as bitters or mild’s, work wonderfully. The key is to choose an ale that you enjoy drinking, as its flavour will permeate the pie. If you’re not a fan of the robustness of stouts like Guinness, lighter ales can also be used, but keep in mind that the flavour profile of the pie will change accordingly.

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If you like a handheld pie, try my Caribbean Beef & Potato Pasty (Aloo Pie). And if you want mash on top instead of pastry, there is my shepherd’s pie.

A Few Words from the Chef

I published this recipe and then cooked it again properly, and the gravy was bitter. That is an uncomfortable thing to find on your own site, so I sat down and worked out why rather than quietly blaming the beer. More beef, a little less stout for the amount of meat, and two minutes frying the tomato purée, and it is the pie I wanted in the first place. If yours has ever come out sharp, it was the recipe and not you. Let me know how this version goes.