Sweet potato shepherd's pie

All right, I guess I'm just going to break a bunch of the "rules" of blogging and just sally forth in any way I can. I won't be predictable. I won't always include a nice photo of the dish (as will be the case with this shepherd's pie because we simply ate it too fast). And I won't do any of these things out of some sort of rebellion against the establishment or whatever, but simply because I'm at times unmotivated, tired, too busy, and just plain lazy.

That said, I've improvised several meals lately that I'm so happy with I simply must write down the recipes so that I remember how. This sweet potato shepherd's pie is one of those. In fact, I just ate the tiny bit of leftover pie for lunch, and I wish I had some more, but it will simply have to wait (because right now I am braising some pork with apples and we will see how that turns out). 

One of the nice things about this and another recent delightful meal (that I hope to post about soon) is that it's all made in my beloved cast-iron skillet. I make the meat filling in the skillet first, then spread the mashed sweet potatoes over the top, and pop it all in the oven. You could make it in a separate baking dish, but why? Why would you do that when it comes out of the oven all nice and rustic and in a heavy pan and great? 

Ingredients  

• 2 Tbsp olive oil
• 1 onion, diced (see photos for how to dice onions)
• 2 medium carrots, chopped finely 
• 1 lb ground beef
• 1 16 oz. can diced tomatoes (I like Muir Glen organic)
• 1 cup water
• 1 tsp beef bullion
• thyme
• Generous splash of red wine (optional, but delicious)
• 1 tsp brown sugar
• 4-5 medium sweet potatoes, cut into pieces (whatever will get you to about 4 heaping cups of sweet potato cubes) 
• 1 Tbsp butter
• 1/4 cup half and half (or cream)
• salt and pepper
• Panko bread crumbs (optional)
• Grated Parmegiano Reggiano (optional)

 

 

 

 

Instructions

1. Start by peeling the sweet potatoes and cutting them into roughly 2-in. cubes (the size isn't all that important; it will just speed cooking). Add them to salted water and bring to a boil. When they are soft (depending on the size of your pieces, between 15-20 minutes), take them off the heat and set them aside for the time being. 
2. In the meantime, turn the oven on 425 degrees (F). In your skillet, heat the olive oil until it shimmers. Add your chopped onions and carrots. Let them cook at low heat for about 5-10 minutes. 
3. Turn up the heat to medium-high and add the ground beef, breaking it up with a wooden spoon or some such utensil. Cook it until it is no longer pink anywhere.
4. Add the tomatoes, a cup of water, big splash of red wine, bullion, brown sugar, and thyme to the pan. Stir everything together and turn up the heat. Keep cooking and stirring the meat mixture at high heat until about half the liquid evaporates. Taste the mixture, add a small amount of salt and some pepper, and then let it keep cooking (careful not to add a lot of salt at this point because more of the liquid will evaporate). Let the liquid in the pan continue to evaporate. The meat mixture is done when it is loose but not watery. Taste the mixture and add as much salt and pepper as you want/need. (And of course, feel free to add herbs or hot sauce if you like that kind of thing.)
5. Flatten the meat mixture in the pan with the back of your spoon or a spatula or some such. Set it aside. 
6. For the mashed sweet potatoes, drain the cooking water, and either put them through a ricer (recommended) or mash them with the back of a spoon. Add butter, half and half, a generous pinch of salt, and a little pepper. Taste the sweet potatoes and adjust the seasonings as you like. 
7. Next, spoon mashed sweet potatoes over top of the meat, spreading them around somewhat evenly. When you've got all the mashed potatoes on there, use the back of a spoon (the back of a spoon is such a useful kitchen tool, don't you think?) to cover the meat completely. Then, if you like, add some handfuls of panko bread crumbs and grate some cheese over the top and slide it all into a hot oven for about 20-30 minutes until the top is slightly browned and the edges bubble. Then eat it. You'll enjoy it. And the sweet potatoes are supposed to be good for you. Maybe add a green salad if you are feeling ambitious.  

Procrastination pie: A lesson in avoiding the really hard work

Little Bird. My most recently completed painting, from September 2014.

I got angry at my son yesterday.

He was supposed to be practicing piano, but he was crying and upset because the piece was difficult. This was not the first time he has experienced this level of frustration with working through something hard. We've tried to coach him through the difficulty, explaining that when something is hard, you just have to work harder. Hardness is not a reflection on intelligence or value; it simply means that something is difficult and requires more work.

I tried going that route first. I told him to take a deep breath and try to slowly work through the lines note by note. Calmly, persistently. He responded with more frustration and tears. I tried again. And then I'm ashamed to say I totally lost it. I yelled. I told him he needed to pull himself together and get over being so emotional about struggling. It went on from there. It wasn't pretty, and I didn't feel good about it afterward.

Thinking about the incident while doing dishes later, I recognized my hypocrisy. I had spent much of an unexpected snow day avoiding my own hard things. Instead of painting or writing or even working on a project for a client, I cooked and cleaned and ran 4 miles and folded laundry, frittering away precious time on easy things. Not easy in terms of the amount of work required, I was exhausted when the day was over, but easy in terms of emotional, mental, and creative effort. Like my son, I constantly struggle with and get anxious about doing certain kinds of work; the difference is that I am a lot better at hiding it from myself and others by doing prodigious amounts of other stuff.

I try to tell myself that being creative is not supposed to be that hard, that I shouldn't get frustrated, that I should take a breath and slowly and persistently push through the difficulty, and perhaps that I should even relax and enjoy it, but the truth is every time I start putting paint to canvas or trying to write a story is a moment of stress, anxiety, and fear. And even when it goes well (which is actually pretty frequent), the terror returns and remains because the next addition of color, the next creative choice could screw it all to hell. I tell myself I shouldn't care. It should be about the process, not the product, but at heart I don't believe that. I tell myself that if I really loved to paint as much as I think I do, it should be easy to get up and do it. But it's not. Just because you love something doesn't make it easy. So painting starts sit for months and sometimes years before I finish them because mustering the courage to push them through the next step is so hard and requires so much emotional energy. (For example, I started Little Bird, the painting at the beginning of this post, five or six years ago and only finally got around to finishing it last September.)

Starting this year, I plan to do better. (I also plan to be more understanding toward my boy.) I've figured out ways to trick myself into running even when it's cold or hot as hell, I'm sore and tired, and I really don't feel like it. Surely I can trick myself into painting and writing more?

In the meantime, while I was avoiding the hard work, I made this shepherd's pie, which turned out to be a huge hit. Inspired by my friend Jeff, who made a shepherd's pie using cauliflower mash instead of mashed potatoes a few weeks ago, I decided to try replacing some of the mashed potatoes with cauliflower. The cauliflower adds a nice, light sweetness to the mash, but is a bit more watery than potatoes are. I may try replacing the potatoes with cauliflower altogether sometime soon, but if/when I do, I will probably need at least two heads of cauliflower and less half and half. I also used a combination of ground beef and loose pork sausage, but you can use any combination you like. And even though I made this meal in part to avoid work, don't be fooled: It's a somewhat time- and labor-intensive recipe, so don't plan to make it on a weeknight. (Unless you have a snow day.)

Shepherd's pie, ingredients

• 1 large head cauliflower, broken into florets
• 6 medium yellow potatoes (use any potatoes you like; I just like yellows better)
• 1/4 cup half and half
• 1 Tbsp butter
• 2 Tbsp olive oil
• 1 lb ground beef
• 1 lb loose pork sausage
• 1 large onion, chopped
• 2-3 cloves garlic, crushed
• 1 14 oz. can of diced tomatoes, fire roasted is nice but not necessary
• 2 Tbsp tomato paste
• 2 cups water
• 1/4 cup ketchup
• 1 tsp Dijon mustard
• smoked paprika, salt, and pepper to taste
• bread crumbs (optional)

Instructions

1. Peel the potatoes and boil them in salted water until tender, about 30 minutes.
2. Steam the cauliflower until tender, about 15-20 minutes depending on your steamer (test the cauliflower with a fork).
3. Using a ricer (which will make your life easier, I promise), rice the cauliflower and the potatoes into a bowl. Add the half and half and butter and some salt and pepper and stir together until you have a nice even(ish) mash. Taste the mash to make sure you've added enough salt and pepper. Set the mashed potato-cauliflower mixture aside.
4. In a large saute pan, heat the olive oil. Toss in a sliver of onion to test the heat. When it sizzles, add the rest of the onion and cook it for about two minutes. Then add the sausage and the ground beef. 
5. Cook the meat and onions until the meat is no longer pink. If the meat has some brown bits, bonus! Drain most of the fat from the pan. 
6. Add the garlic to the pan and let it cook for about a minute (do NOT let it burn). 
7. Add the tomatoes, water, tomato paste, ketchup, mustard, and perhaps a teaspoon of salt and half a teaspoon of pepper and smoked paprika to the meat in the pan. Stir everything together. Over medium-high heat, let the mixture cook down to a loose mass (the pan should contain some liquid, but the mixture should not be watery). Taste the mixture and add salt and pepper until you like it.
8. Next, assemble the pie. Pour the meat mixture into a large, oven-safe baking dish (mine is about 13 in. by 9 in.). Shake the dish gently to make sure the meat is somewhat evenly distributed. Then place big spoonfuls of the potato-cauliflower mash over the meat mixture and using the back of a spoon spread it out somewhat evenly. (It's a "rustic" dish; it doesn't have to look perfect.) If you want, spread some bread crumbs or Panko over top of the mashed potatoes. (At this point, you can set aside the pie for a few days and bake it another day.)
9. Bake the pie for 50-55 minutes in a 450-degree (F) oven. Eat. Enjoy. Try to do the hard things.      

Keeping it simple: The perfect burger

First, a confession. Last week was Australia week on the "Grand Tour" with my son. I did a lousy job. We talked a bit about marsupials, got a video from the library about how kids in Australia live, and drew a flag, but I lost focus. I never got around to getting vegemite (which is apparently huge in Australia), and I never made the pavlova I intended to make (thanks to Kendra and Sabrina for the suggestions though). And I never tried making meat pies, which I think would be pretty delicious. My apologies to Australia: I didn't teach my boy enough about you.

But I am anxious to do better this week, which is USA week in honor of the 4th of July. After spending a little time learning about the Declaration of Independence and the Revolutionary War and drawing the flag this morning, dinner tonight was cheeseburgers, which definitely rank high on my top-ten American foods list.


Like most people in America, I have had all kinds of burgers: beef, turkey, veggie, lamb, with all kinds of toppings and all kinds of qualities (dry, juicy, flavorless, delicious, weird). Of course, burger preferences like all food preferences are subjective, but one of the keys to a great burger is juiciness. Don't get me wrong, great flavor is also important, but if your burger isn't a mess, with juices dripping off your hands as you eat it, then you are missing something fundamental about a burger: It's supposed to be a mess. If it isn't, you are doing it wrong.  


So how do you make that happen? Well, first and most important, you have to choose the right meat. I know really pure purists would probably have you grind your own meat from a particular cut but that's more ambitious and equipment-intensive than I am prepared for. I think it's probably OK to get ground beef from a vendor you trust, for example, from a farmer at the farmers market you feel good about or another trustworthy source of grass-fed beef (on grass-fed I will not compromise; it's better for the animal and for you). 


Another important feature of the meat is fat content. You can't have a burger made from lean meat. So put down that package of 95-5 beef, or even 90-10. Get the fatty stuff. Why? Because the fat is where the juiciness comes from. And it just plain tastes good. (Furthermore, I am not convinced that a  low-fat diet is all it's cracked up to be in terms of keeping you healthy anyway. This article from Mark Bittman raises this topic.)


All right, so now that you have some good, grass-fed ground beef with a fat content of at least 15 percent, you are almost done with making your burger. Because the success of this food hinges entirely on doing as little as possible. Sprinkle salt and pepper on the burger, but nothing more than that. Place it in the pan, but then leave it alone. Heck, walk away for a few minutes so you aren't tempted to fuss with it. Drop a little tasty cheese on it before serving, if you are so inclined. Serve it with salsa, guacamole, mayonnaise, whatever you want and have. But the important thing is to get the basics down. If you can't make a good burger completely undressed, you aren't really making a good burger. You are making good toppings. 


Ingredients*

• 1 lb ground beef, at least 15 percent fat
• salt and pepper
• vegetable oil for the pan
• cheese of your choice (optional; I used an excellent local blue cheese)
• 4 toasted burger buns
• a little butter

Instructions

1. Divide the meat into four equal portions. Gently shape the meat into patties between a quarter inch and a half-inch thick. (Manipulate the meat as little as you possibly can. The less you mess with it, the juicier the burger will be.)
2. Salt and pepper both sides of the burgers liberally. 
3. Let the burgers come to room temp before cooking. 
4. Heat the oil in your grill pan to medium-high heat.
5. Add the burgers to the pan. Set the timer for five minutes and don't touch the burgers again. 
6. At the five-minute mark, flip the burgers and set the timer for another five minutes. Place the cheese on the burgers. 
7. Butter the toasted buns. 
8. When the patties are done, place them on the toasted buns and serve.  (Next time I make these, I am going to make them with cheddar cheese and salsa. That's going to be good.)  

* Adapted from Bobby Flay's perfect burger.

Swedish meatballs: A classic dish for the Grand Tour

Because this Friday is Midsummer Night's Eve in Sweden, I decided this week would be a great time to teach and learn more about Sweden during my son's and my Grand Tour summer project. Obviously I know a lot about Sweden, having spent much of my childhood and some early adulthood there, but it's always valuable to approach your own country or city as though you were a tourist and knew nothing about the place. You can often learn things that you never knew before. And it can be a lot of fun.

So I started doing some planning and research, trying to figure out what to serve for Midsummer, but also what we were going to eat throughout the week. Swedish meatballs were one obvious choice (who doesn't think of Swedish meatballs when they hear the words "Swedish food"?). 

Now, Swedish meatballs is one of those dishes that every cook does in his or her own way. Similarities exist among them all (they are all recognizably Swedish meatballs), but each recipe has its own tweak. In some cases, meatballs are served with a creamy brown sauce, as I have done here. Some people prefer a thin beef broth with some chopped onions. And sometimes the meatballs aren't served with any kind of sauce at all, which is usually the case at a smorgasbord (cleaner to snag one with a toothpick that way).

And the accompaniments vary a bit as well. Boiled potatoes are definitely typical. (By the way, I learned a nice tip about adding dill to the cooking water from this Swedish food blog.) Many serve their meatballs with lingonberry sauce, which is very good. But I usually prefer to serve mine either with pickled beets or with Swedish cucumber salad. The acidity of the pickles combines so well with the richness of the sauce.

Most Swedish meatball recipes start with a mix of ground beef and ground pork, but I don't see any reason to get too hung up on that. If you've only got some ground beef, use that. Heck, I am sure that the addition of ground lamb would be tasty too.

Ingredients

• 1 lb ground pork     
• 1 lb ground beef
• 1 egg
• about 1/4 cup bread crumbs
• 1 chopped onion
• 2 tsps salt
• 1/2 tsp white pepper
• 1 Tbsp dried parsley (or 1-2 Tbsp chopped fresh, if you have it)
• 2 Tbsp butter
• 2 Tbsp all-purpose flour
• 1-1 1/2 cup beef broth or stock 
• 1 Tbsp red wine vinegar
• 1/2 cup heavy cream or half-and-half
• Additional parsley, salt, and pepper to flavor the sauce

Instructions

1. Combine the ground meats, egg, bread crumbs, onion, salt, pepper, and parsley in a bowl. Have a plate ready to receive the prepared meatballs. 
2. With clean, bare hands, knead the ingredients in the bowl until they are just evenly incorporated. There should be no major clumps of ingredients, but you don't want to overdo it either. 
3. Roll the meatballs by picking up about one heaped tablespoon of the meat mixture (or thereabouts) and rolling it between your hands until it comes together into a ball. Once again, don't overdo this step. They don't have to be perfect and the more you work them the drier the meatball will be. Make sure your meatballs are pretty even in size.  
4. Continue rolling until you have run out of meat mixture, and you have a plate full of meatballs. 
5. When you have finished rolling your meatballs, heat the butter in a large pan over medium high heat. When the butter is foamy and starting to brown a bit, add half the meatballs to the pan. Roll them around from time to time, cooking them until they are brown all around and no longer pink in the middle (check by cutting one of them open). (Should take about 10 minutes.) 
6. Remove the first batch from the pan (either set these aside for another time and purpose, such as a meatball sandwich, or add them back to the sauce at the end). Repeat the cooking process for the second batch of meatballs. 
7. When the second batch is cooked through, add two tablespoons of all-purpose flour to the pan. Roll the meatballs in the flour until it soaks up the grease in the pan and let it cook for a minute or two. (This is probably weird, but I love the smell of hot flour in a pan.) 
8. Add the beef stock and the vinegar. Lower the heat if it boils up too fast. Let the sauce cook until it's quite thick. If it gets too thick, just add a little more broth or cream. 
9. Lower the heat and add the cream or half-and-half to the sauce. Taste the sauce and add salt, pepper, and parsley as needed. Add the first batch of meatballs back in at this point if desired and incorporate them into the sauce. Serve with potatoes and pickled beets, Swedish cucumber salad, or lingonberry sauce (if you can find it).      

Papa rellena: Peruvian stuffed potatoes

The potato. Such a humble root, with such vast potential both in cooking and in feeding the planet (see what Charles C. Mann, author of 1493: Uncovering the New World Columbus Created has to say about it in this Smithsonian Magazine article). The summary? The potato fed a lot of people and may have driven some of the world's population explosions and subsequent political restructurings. Ah, the historicopolitical impact of food. 

The potato might be my favorite vegetable (or starch, however you want to view it). I like them mashed, baked, boiled, fried, gussied up, or plain as day. (Always cooked though, of course; raw potatoes contain toxins that can make you sick.) 

I am not alone in loving potatoes. When I was growing up in Sweden, we got lots of potatoes with just about every dish, and, though others were more excited about rice, I was always happy to see those friendly yellow spuds on the dinner table. I once spent an hour with a friend from Ireland, raving about the delights of the potato. (I know, I am a weird geek with weird geek friends.)

In Peru, love of the potato is fundamental. Thousands of potato varieties exist, each one adapted to different microclimates and different storage and nutritional requirements. Some potatoes must be eaten with a specific type of clay to not be poisonous. Some are meant to be frozen and mashed. The variety is so great that Peruvian people who eat only potatoes still get all the nutrients they require. This kind of variety is very different from what we are used to seeing in American markets, even at farmers markets, which are far more likely to showcase oddball varietals of fruits and vegetables (one of the many reasons I love shopping at farmers markets).  

As part of Peru week (read more about the Grand Tour here), I knew dinner was going to feature a lot of potatoes, and the Peruvian dish I decided to try this time was papa relleno. It is a mashed potato ball (more like a football, actually) stuffed with a tasty ground meat filling and deep fried. They are fun to make and, as my son said, "Yummy!" My husband described it as being a little like a mini deep-fried shepherd's pie. 

The ground meat filling I made is somewhat unusual for me. For instance, I used raisins, which I would normally never do because I dislike raisins. But I decided to give it a try and was very pleased with the result. The flavor of raisin didn't come across, only a bit of sweetness that balanced the salt and sour of the other ingredients. So if you don't like raisins and don't like much fruit in savory food, I recommend giving it a try anyway. You may find yourself pleasantly surprised. Other additions I saw in various fillings were chopped hardboiled eggs and chopped black olives. Feel free to mix it up. 

The only trouble I had with this dish was the deep frying, which is a technique I have yet to fully master. I recommend checking out this article to get some tips on deep frying (such as don't skimp on the oil, let the oil get very hot, don't crowd the pan, and cook your food in batches).

Ingredients

• 3 lbs yellow potatoes, peeled
• 1 egg
• 1 onion, chopped finely
• 3-4 cloves of garlic, crushed
• 1 lb ground beef (or ground pork would also be good)
• 1/4 cup raisins, chopped
• 1 16-oz can crushed tomatoes
• 1-2 Tbsp chopped fresh cilantro (or you can replace with parsley)
• 1/2 teaspoon ground cumin
• salt and pepper
• all-purpose flour
• vegetable oil (both for making the meat filling and for deep frying, so you will need a lot)

Instructions

1. Boil the potatoes in salted water until you can easily poke them with a fork. 
2. Drain the water and mash the potatoes in a bowl with salt and pepper to taste. (A ricer is a piece of kitchen equipment that you should really invest in if you make a lot of mashed potatoes. Totally worth the cost and space.) Set aside the potatoes until they are really cold. (Overnight would be fine, just cover them with plastic so they don't dry out.)
3. In a frying pan, heat about 2 Tbsp oil until it shimmers. Add onions and garlic and cook until shiny and a little brown. (Smells good, huh? Frying onions is one of my favorite smells.)
4. Add the ground meat to the pan and cook until the meat is browned and cooked through. 
5. Add raisins, crushed tomatoes, cilantro or parsley, cumin, salt, and pepper, and about a cup of water to the pan. Let the mix cook until most of the liquid evaporates and you have a loose mass in the pan. (Don't forget to taste it for salt and pepper, but don't add too much salt early because evaporation will concentrate the salt.) Let the mixture cool. (Once again, you can do this a day ahead.)
6. When you are ready to start shaping the papa rellena, add 1 egg to the mashed potatoes and mix until completely incorporated and smooth. Put a couple of handfuls of all-purpose flour on a plate for rolling. 
7. To shape the papa rellena, pick up about 1/4 cup of the mashed potatoes and create a dent in the middle. Place about 1 Tbsp meat filling in the dent and mold the mashed potatoes around the filling. Patch any holes with additional mashed potatoes. Form the mass into a potato shape (the first few won't look great, but you will get the hang of it very quickly.)
8. Roll the "potato" in flour and set it aside while you shape the rest. You should get about 12-14 papas.
9. When you have finished rolling them all, deep fry the papas in batches. They will be done when they are golden brown and crispy. Keep them warm in a 200-degree oven until you have finished the remaining batches. 
10. Eat! Enjoy.