who ate all the pies?

Short answer: I did.

My love of pies is legendary. And there is a new home of the pie (title previously held by Cafe de Vilis, South Road, Mile End)

In the Adelaide Hills is the small town of Hahndorf, settled by German migrants, fleeing religions persecution in their home land, in 1839. Today Hahndorf is a tourist mecca, flooded with men in leiderhosen trying to flog off huge steins of beer and bratwurst and sauerkraut to hoards from Japan and the Philippines, along with sheep wool ugg boots, scented candles, and 'my brother went to Hahndorf and all I got was this lousy t-shirt' t-shirts. It truly is horrendous.

But in the middle of the main street, just past the fifth ompah band, is Pot Belly Pies.

This particular one is lamb, rosemary and mint. The pastry is divine, and the contents cooked with obviously love and care. I've had sterling reports about the beef and Guinness as well as the steak and mushroom varieties. There's also a chicken and cranberry I'd be keen to try.