Datepie Podcast

An accident in a barrel, a flavour that outlived its makers, and a sauce that never learned to keep quiet.

A war that barely began, a voice that broke through the static, and a band that refused to play quietly.

Heat that won’t break, tempers that won’t cool, and the strange loyalty that surfaces when the sun is at its meanest.

Strings pulled tight, strings slurped loose — melodies and meals that linger longer than expected.

From kitchens on wheels to codes that bound the globe, two creations that changed everything — though not always in the ways their makers imagined.

Tiny treasures traded in the night, old whispers dressed as kindness, and a figure who’s never quite what you expect under the pillow.

A song that slipped through the cracks, a man who never planned it, and the strange turns that follow when an anthem takes on a life of its own.

Smoke in the air, sizzling secrets on the pan, and the curious tales behind a food that refuses to be quiet.

Whispers in the dark, names on trembling lips, and a town where fear burned hotter than fire itself. Justice, or something far stranger?

A day for resilience, a day for two, and the stories that slip between them — from secrets cracked to waters crossed. What’s left when persistence meets partnership?

An actor fumes, pigs plot, and mop-tops jam the system. Somewhere between satire and scandal, the filter starts to choke.

No leashes, no cages—just survival on city streets. From Istanbul’s silent guardians to London’s neon-green squawk patrol, not all strays go unnoticed.

One empire fading, one nation rising, and voices breaking through static and censorship. When a viceroy stepped down, others tuned in.

An arrow through the head. A banjo in hand. And a mind always one joke ahead of the room. Nothing is ever quite normal when Steve Martin shows up.

Stone temples. Sacred rituals. And a curious suspicion of the southpaw. When the Aztecs looked at left-handedness, they didn’t just see a quirk—they saw an omen.

Dust, bones, and a hunch in the heat. One explorer, one colossal secret buried for eons. Sometimes, giants are found by those who look down.

Beats drop. Walls shake. A mic becomes a megaphone. From block parties to global stages, the rhythm never asked for permission.

No alarms. No guilt. Just the art of doing absolutely nothing—perfectly. Not every story needs to move fast.

A guitar riff echoes across the airwaves. Elsewhere, the silence is shattered in a far darker key. Not all summers burn bright—some leave scars.