Recipe for disaster

There was an old woman who swallowed a shoe,
It's not the sort of thing she'd normally do.
The recipe came from the Fat Duck cookbook,
And requires Worcester sauce and a lot of luck
Which never seems to come my way
And so, I resign myself to stay
At home, and do the Listener weekly,
And send in the solution meekly
But alas, we never get the prize
The prize of the pies that are made of lies
Our entries are just never quite good enough
We're not really cut out for that sort of stuff.
However, we're awesome at making mince pies
Though eating them isn't entirely wise.
The pastry is laced with a poison so potent
You'd be well advised to stay in yo' tent.