Thud. It was the unmistakable sound of a Greggs pasty hitting an armoured car.
In perhaps the most surreal moment of my time working in politics, the then chancellor’s official car was being pelted with pies — as part of a protest against the so-called pasty tax. I was sat in the back of the car, hoping the protesters would lob a steak bake or two my way — I bloody love those.
