When we were small, there was nothing more likely to set us squealing with laughter when we had had the temerity to answer my father back on any point, than the threat of do you want some chin pie? This meant he was going to rub the bristles of his unshaved face against our cheek. We loved it as much as tickles and would giggle and laugh until our eyes ran, our jaws seized, diaphragms hurt and we had to beg a pause to gulp for breath. In A Family Affair: My Bradford Childhood, 1900-11 a delightful memoir written by Kathleen Binns in the late eighties, Kathleen recalls a visit to her adored grandmother. Kathleen is not threatened with chin pie but thimble pie. This meant a swift chastising tap by a thimble covered finger. But why pie? By the way, this image is of a 19th century marine ivory thimble holder modelled as a miniature Swiss cottage.