Thrown together, not rolled out. A tin lined with whatever pastry you’ve got—or maybe just topped—and filled with odds and ends from the fridge. Leftover roast, a spoonful of stew, frozen veg, a splash of gravy. It’s not neat, but it’s warm.
Lazy pie doesn’t care for crisp crimping or fancy fillings. It cares that you eat something that feels like home, even if the day didn’t.
Best eaten straight from the dish with a fork, in a jumper, with the telly on low. No effort, no ceremony—just pie.
