Shepherd's Pie

Shepherd's Pie. This dish makes me think of growing up in Boise. I watched my mother making so many really great meals and I am realizing that I didn't give enough thought to the comfort of them, or to what it took to make them, considering how great they really were. What I remember thinking was that someday I would be required to cook these meals for my own family... and it would be that same someday, when I would make myself learn how to cook them. Never "now." I wasn't interested in learning them in the moments of my childhood when I could have started a good foundation for food; learning new recipes, learning what ingredients mixed well together, learning the general physics required to cook something... ANYTHING! I watched my mother and, at the time, I probably felt happy it wasn't *my* job.

I was interested in baking. On occasion I made cakes and cookies. I did a pretty good job of that. Dinners, however, were foreign territory. They required a different type of thinking, of which I hadn't the imagination or skill. All of my life it has been this way and even today, though I can create some things, I stick to the basics.

Shepherd's Pie is pretty basic it would seem. Well, it would seem that way to anyone but me, probably. I ventured out to the edge today and gave it the old college try. I studied several recipes and mixed them together into something I thought might just work.... if I read them enough, if the step by step pathway was memorized enough ahead of time so that when I finally was standing there in front of the stove, I wouldn't panic and ruin everything due to complete and utter lack of preparation. I made the mashed potatoes the night before and I went to the grocery to be sure I had everything I needed on hand. Before turning on a single appliance, I carefully chopped, peeled, smashed, measured and poured every ingredient into separate dishes and arranged them neatly in front of me. How can you go wrong when it's all done first, right? Well, honestly, if there is a way to screw it up, it's likely I'd be the one to find it. I am an explorer in the vast unknown lands of cooking mistakes, but when I am taking the steps to do it, I am vigorous in my pursuit.

In the end, however, the pie came out pretty well. The mix of recipes seemed to have worked beautifully, and the only thing I would do different next time is a little less thyme. That's just me, however, to your taste it might be fabulous. For the most part, even to my taste, it was pretty damned good. I used ground sirloin for this dish, though traditionally a lamb dish, most anything works. There are so many good veggies here that you could do this without meat at all if you prefer. It's also traditionally made from leftovers, so good old fashioned leftover pot roast would be heavenly.

Here's what I did:

Chopped and sliced:

3/4 c celery

3/4 c carrots (sliced 1/4" thick crosswise)

1 1/4 c sweet onion (divided into 2 parts)

1 1/2 c mushrooms

3/4 c green pepper

and I rinsed and set aside 3/4 c frozen peas.

In a small dish I combined:

1/4 tsp salt

1/4 tsp dried thyme

1/8 tsp ground red pepper (cayenne)

I set aside 2 1/2 tbsp tomato paste for later, as well as cup of chicken broth mixed with 1 tbsp flour for thickening the lb of ground sirloin and onion mixture, when it came time. I used olive oil, a wee bit of garlic, and additional salt as well, for the cooking. I had prepared mashed potatoes to my liking the night before. I used about 3 cups for this recipe.

At this point, my nerves fired up because everything was ready, and I had no excuse to stall any longer. I preheated the oven to 425 degrees, got a big baking dish and a trusty cast iron skillet (large) and got to work.

I heated 2 tsp olive oil to hot, added a pinch of chopped fresh garlic, as well as 1/4 tsp salt to the celery, carrots, mushrooms, green peppers, and half the onions. I turned them occasionally until the mushrooms were lightly browned and the carrots were soft but still had a wee crunch. (about 7 min). I added the peas and cooked it all for an additional minute or two. (I like pepper, so I ground a little pepper to taste).

Then I layered the bottom of the baking dish with the vegetable mixture.

Using the same skillet, I added a lb (OK, slightly over) ground sirloin, another (very small) pinch of garlic, and the rest of the onion. I cooked this until the meat was brown, and the onions translucent. I drained the fat, added the tomato paste and the spice mixture (salt, cayenne, thyme), ground a little more pepper over the meat, then added the thickening broth and heated it on high until it boiled and thickened for another minute or two.

I layered it evenly over the first veggie layer.

Finally, I scooped out about three cups of the already-made mashed potatoes and spread them evenly over the top of the other layers. I sprinkled a little more salt and pepper to taste (and just for kicks, a dash of paprika). About halfway through cooking, I painted a layer of melted butter over the potatoes... well, just because it sounded good... and it does, doesn't it?

I baked this for about 25 min, until the potatoes were browning, and the mixture was bubbling over the sides. Were I to do this again, I would consider this in advance and place a baking sheet underneath the drips, rather than sitting here regretting not doing so and avoiding cleaning the messy oven by typing up this recipe and sharing it.

Oh well, the joys of blogging, aye?

The recipe turned out to be one I will keep, which is actually part of why I'm posting this. I wanted to share this with you, yes, but mainly I wanted a record of how I mixed these recipes together along with my own hair-brained ideas.... in order to preserve it and make it again. I do think it's worth another "old college try" in the future. I'd recommend it to you for those cold, rainy or snowy days when you are beckoned back to creating that taste of Mom's home-cooking (at least, the taste of *my* Mom's home-cooking). Grab a warm blanket, a good movie, and bundle up with a dish of this good old fashioned "Shepherd's Pie deliciousness.