Does Not Contain Shepherds

One of my biggest personal tragedies is that, although I am a very enthusiastic cook, I am not a particularly great one. Remember The World's Most Unappetizing Cake? Oh, I bet you do. For every glorious Porncake I manage to pull together, there's a disappointingly dry and anticlimactic Chocolate Guinness Cake that is only eaten out of loyalty by my boyfriend (and sometimes, depending on how hungry they are, one of my brothers.)

And really, it does seem rather unfair, because my god, I love food more than life itself. I love reading cookbooks and browsing brilliant sites like this one. I love buying spice racks and stainless steel measuring cups and experimenting with new recipes---or planning to. Hell, I even love going to the grocery store. And yet half the time, when I bake or cook, things turn out only so-so. You know how they turn out? They turn out like the culinary equivalent of a shrug. And also maybe a lacklustre "meh."

But then there is the Shepherd's Pie. The Shepherd's Pie, my friends, has never failed me. The Shepherd's Pie is always on my side, even when I am rather lax about chopping the onions properly or remembering to time the potatoes. The Shepherd's Pie does not mind. He is easy. He will work with you, not against you. If you have a significant other, the Shepherd's Pie will make him or her fall in love with you all over again and also maybe want to buy you a car. Like, an expensive one. Like maybe a Ferrari or a Porsche. And if you don't have a significant other, you need only cook the Shepherd's Pie and one will come. (Well, I mean, maybe. Don't take my word for it. But possibly.) But do you know what is best of all? If you have an hour to spare, the Shepherd's Pie is super easy. I mean, come on. I can do it.

So, Internet. I think you need to learn how to make the Shepherd's Pie. Don't you? And since I am British, I was born with the knowledge tattooed on the inside of my brain. It was just, like, in my DNA or something. Along with the strand that makes me constantly correct people's grammar. And talk in a snooty voice. And look pale.

I have to say, there is a lot of bad information out there regarding the Shepherd's Pie, bad information like instant mashed potatoes and tomato sauce in the meat. Please do not listen to people who tell you to make the Shepherd's Pie this way. In fact, you know what? A pox on these people! We will do it properly. Or we will not do it at all.

(No, wait, screw that, we will do it properly. This way, we get to eat Shepherd's Pie.)

So first you need some potatoes. It doesn't really matter how many. Maybe six? If they are big? Decide for yourself. You know your own potato tolerance. Please peel these potatoes---or get your significant other to do it, beause OH BOY, are they in for a treat later, they really need to earn it first---and then add the potatoes to a large pot of boiling, salted water. Boil them until they are soft, prodding them along the way. In the meantime, you should chop some onions. (Tonight I used a shallot! Although don't you try and live as dangerously as me. I've been doing this a long time.) Saute these onions in some olive oil, and then add one of those packages of ground beef. You know the ones. But here is the thing: please get the good ground beef, the kind that is only 10 per cent fat---or less if possible. It's important. No tubes of meat. You hear me? NO TUBES.

You can add some herbs to your meat, if you like; for example, this evening I used oregano and tarragon. I very much doubt this is within keeping of the Real English Rules (and I am normally a stickler about adhering to the Real English Rules, hence no instant mashed potato) but on this issue I throw caution to the wind. If you can, however, you should crumble an Oxo cube into the meat. Can you find these Oxo cubes over here in America? I'm not sure; mine came in on a special shipment with my mother, along with a lot of teabags. I bet you could just use a beef stock cube if you wanted to (but again, you would be flouting the Real English Rules. And then you will have done it twice. So be warned.)

When your meat is cooked---oh! add some ground black pepper!---put it in the bottom of a casserole dish. (Is that what they're called? I don't know. Use something that can go in the oven, anyway.) Then drain your potatoes and prepare to mash them to within an inch of their lives. As you may know, I sort of have a thing about mashed potatoes; I just can't eat anyone else's. I can never order them in restaurants. I would not eat them if I came to your house. I'm sorry, I know we're friends and all, but I just would not trust you to get them as smooth as I can. I use lots of butter, a little bit of salt, a splash of milk, and a very large helping of pure brute force. This is how I get my anger out. Some people run. I mash potatoes.

So when you have them smoother than a stripper's legs, please place them atop your meat. (Optional step if you are a nerd, which I hope you are, because then we can totally hang out one day, but only if you don't try and feed me mashed potatoes: take a fork and run the tines along the top in a pleasingly checkered pattern. Make the top of your Shepherd's Pie look like plaid.) Then stick it in the oven at around 350 for half an hour or so, until the top is pleasingly golden and crispy and your house smells like Heaven went on a blind date with Disneyland (or Target, whichever you prefer).

You should serve it with peas, it's just the law. Also, if you happened to have bought them at Trader Joe's because you're incapable of not picking up everything you see in there---what are you, some kind of crazy magpie or something?---you could make some brussels sprouts. Just stick them in their own dish---doused liberally with olive oil, diced shallots, and rosemary---and keep them in the oven for as long as you keep the Shepherd's Pie in there. Maybe longer. I mean, if you're in the middle of a really good book or something. That's what I do.

So please! Make this! I urge you! But do be aware: this might actually not be how you make Shepherd's Pie at all. I mean, I never even used a recipe! I just spent the 90s half-heartedly watching what my mother did---probably in between episodes of My So Called Life and bouts of crippling ennui---and then tried to recreate it in my own kitchen some years later. Perhaps this is not how the Victorians made Shepherd's Pie at all. Or Shakespeare. Or even the shepherds themselves! But I will tell you something: if you use good quality meat, mash your potatoes properly, and blow your Shepherd's Pie a kiss as it disappears into the oven, it will turn out perfectly every time. Also, whoever you make this for will then totally owe you one. I mean, you could probably ask for a puppy or something. Or a horse.