We've waited long enough

by Lisa

Wow. It's been a long time, friends. Almost a whole month has gone by without us saying even a word. Is anyone still there?

I've been thinking about you, readers, and have wanted to tell you about recent adventures. A lot of important things have been happening around here. One, I made my first hummus from scratch - well, almost from scratch. (Thanks, Soofie!) Two, Steph and I finally (two years later!) made the Salmon in Lemon Brodetto with Pea Puree and had the most wonderful dinner party ever, hands down - mostly because of the creative and hilarious company. (What could be more fun than giving each other piggyback rides around a tiny apartment after eating a delicious meal topped off with chocolate pudding pie?) Three, I ventured out to Blue Bottle - what else is there to be said?


But what I come to bring you today is these to-die-for biscuits. Actually, just hours before, I had made Steph's chocolate pudding (a pot de creme of sorts), but kinda felt guilty blogging about that. It is her recipe, and she still needs to write about it; after all, who do I call every time I forget the three ingredients that go into it? I wonder: did I make these biscuits out of penance? I really still don't like to bake, even though I often get all kinds of urges to do so; where they come from, who knows. But I was kind of hungry, and it's nice to have a motivation to do something I do/n't want to do. I knew I could, for at least a few minutes, trick myself into thinking I enjoy baking if I knew I could eat the result before no time at all. That's what quickbreads are for, no?


After cutting out the shapes (hearts, I know, I'm a softie - what can I say?), I wasn't quite sure what to do with the scraggly edges that remained. I'd tuned out almost everything I'd heard about baking, but I vaguely remembered that it's not a good idea to overwork dough that you want to be flaky. So, tossing the remainders on the baking sheet along with the nicely cut shapes, my roommate Anna teases, "Wow, Lisa. You really don't have much patience for baking, do you?" Hey, hey. I'm just trying make flaky biscuits, okay?


We enjoyed the dinosaur-shaped pieces with honey, watching the pieces as though figuring out what shapes the clouds were forming. Okay, not really. We were busier consuming them than thinking up such romantic notions, but I'm a writer - I feel like I have to say idealized things like that.

But without further ado, let me give you the recipe; I've waited long enough and probably so have you. And, Stephie, I promise to make you a whole tray of them, to make up for making the pudding and these, without you here!

Heart and Dinosaur Biscuits

2 cups all-purpose flour
1 tablespoon baking powder
1 teaspoon sugar
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 stick butter (I used 1T less than a stick)
3/4 cup half-and-half (you could also use cream, buttermilk, milk)

Preheat oven to 425. Mix dry ingredients in a bowl. Cut cold butter into pieces, and using a pastry blender (highly recommended!), work the flour mixture with your hands or a pastry blender until it resembles pea-sized crumbs. (Alternatively, if you are without a pastry blender, you can use two knives, or your fingers to cut the butter into the dry ingredients.) Pour in liquid and stir a few times to mix. Turn onto a floured surface, and knead once or twice in order to bring it together. The dough should be sticky, resist the temptation to add too much more flour, but you can if you need to. Dust a rolling pin with flour and roll dough to half-inch thickness. Using a floured cookie cutter, cut biscuits. Place biscuits (and the edges, if you want dinosaurs/clouds) on a parchment paper on a baking sheet, next to each other, so that they rise up instead of out. Bake 10-12 minutes, or until the tops are golden. Makes 10-12 biscuits.

Birthdays all around

by Lisa

I don't know how it started, but last summer I made a goal for myself to learn how to cook Indian food. Maybe it started because Indian food occupies a lot of my mind space. Whenever I go see my parents, I cast my vote for Indian. It's something I grew up eating, since my family is from Malaysia and the cuisine there is almost as much Indian as it is Chinese. And it's not uncommon on the way back from class or work for me to call Naan 'n' Curry to order a piece of naan or container of rice. (Yes, they are programmed on my phone.) On top of all that, two of my good friends (one of whom also posts to this blog) wrote a song about the dreamy curry guy at the Naan 'n' Curry down the street. (It's called, well, Dream Curry Guy: The Spicy Remix.) Regardless of how it all started, the point is: I did it! I learned how to make Indian food. I shared a chana masala recipe a few months ago, and here I am back with more.


My best friend, Elizabeth, turned a year older this week. For her birthday, she asked if we could cook together and if I would teach her to make my Chicken Tikka Masala. We used to cook a lot together when we were in college (I say that like it was so long ago), and since it was something both of us missed and treasured, I happily agreed.

We actually tried making it a few weekends ago when we were at her parents' place. I looked up a few recipes and they all looked complicated. I ended up making a hybrid of a few recipes. We broiled the chicken, but in later versions, I found it unnecessary to do that; pan frying was enough for me. For me, at least, it's all about the cream sauce. My version is a little more spiceful than what I've had in restaurants. While I told you above that we ate Indian food often while growing up, I had never had Tikka Masala until I came to Berkeley. When I first had it, it didn't seem authentic to me - it seemed too starter, almost like vodka cream sauce. (Not that that's a bad thing or anything... just not authentic seeming.) So it's funny that my version is more spiceful than even I like, at least for Tikka Masala. It's just that it feels so wrong to cook something so plain. You'll have to play around with it on your own and see what you like, and/or visit the dreamy curry guy at N and C. So far we've discovered that he's most often guarding the cashier on Sunday nights.

Additionally, I recently added Making Rice On the Stove to The List of Lisa's Deviations from the Chinese Culture (the first item relating my use of a fork, and not chopsticks, to scramble eggs). I posted a recipe for spiced rice below, and you can also do it similarly in the rice cooker. And don't forget to call your local curry house for some fresh naan.

--

I came home one day and these little beauties had been baked. (Happy birthday, Justin!)


Oh, man. Is it okay for me to even like these things? I mean, I have a food blog, guys. I'll give you one if you don't tell anyone I like them. In fact, have a whole tray. (Except for the three I already ate.)


Maybe you've stuck with me so far (even through those pink things) because you're wondering what the question of the week is. It's a spin-off an icebreaker question I was asked at my work meeting. (Yes, I got a job!) I'm part of a team that addresses staff development/training at the University, so the question was: "If you could have a magical pillow for one night that could teach you anything you wanted to know, what would you want to learn? And how would your life be different after that?" So my spin-off is this:

If you could learn any one type of cuisine overnight, what would it be?

You already know mine.



Relatively Easy Chicken Tikka Masala

2 chicken breasts, diced

Marinate in:
1/2 cup yogurt
juice from half a lemon
salt and pepper
around 1/2 teaspoon each: ground cumin, coriander, tumeric, other spices as you wish (cayenne pepper, paprika, nutmeg, cinnamon)

1 medium onion, diced
1/2 inch ginger, minced or sliced
1 small jalepeno, seeded (or not), minced
2 cloves garlic, minced
1/2 teaspoon cumin seeds
additional ground spices

1 small can tomato sauce (8 ounces)
1 cup cream

Marinate chicken, overnight if possible, but while prepping sauce will be just fine. I have a hard time giving measurements, since I just grab from the spice set I got.

Heat a few tablespoons of vegetable oil in a pan (preferably not non-stick) over medium heat. Add cumin seeds and cook until they begin to sizzle and pop, a few seconds. Add the onion and saute about 10 minutes; don't be afraid to let them get a little brown/caramelized. Add jalepeno, garlic, and ginger and cook for a few more minutes. At this point, throw in any additional spices (e.g., dried ginger if you don't have fresh, more clove if you like it, etc.) and fry until fragrant.

Add entire can of tomato sauce and stir; it seems to help clean up the bits that stick to the pan. Then add cream, stir, and heat.

In a separate pan (I like to use non-stick for this part), add few tablespoons oil to pan, and heat to high. Sear the chicken cubes. They don't have to completely cook here, since they can continue to cook in the sauce; breast meat tends to overcook quickly, so don't overdo it. When the chicken is done, throw it into the sauce.

Let sauce simmer on low or medium low until ready to serve.

Serve with rice, naan, yogurt, cilantro, lemon slices, tomatoes.


Indian Spiced Rice

3 cups long-grained rice, unwashed (I use Jasmine, but would like to learn how to do it with Basmati)
5 cups water
1 cinnamon stick
1 pod cardamom
3-4 whole cloves
1/2 teaspoon cumin
1 inch ginger smashed

1 tablespoon butter
1/2 teaspoon tumeric

Combine first set of ingredients in pot. Bring to boil, covered, then reduce to low and let cook for 15-25 minutes until water is absorbed. Avoid the temptation to lift the lid and check; it needs the steam to cook, and the water is pre-measured for this. When it's finished, stir in butter and tumeric. You can also add chopped flat-leaf parsley.

The challenge

by Lisa


So, today I face a challenge. No, it's not Can I Eat More Bananas Than My Housemates? (The checker at TJ's asked me, when scanning the second batch of 12 bananas in a month, "Do you live in a zoo?" Last time I checked, no. )

No, it's a lot more serious than that. Steph emailed me yesterday morning, providing the stats on our blog. Exactly three posts every month since we launched - no standard deviation on that mean. She said, "You have two days to post. Go!" (Thank goodness for leap years.)

It didn't take long to figure what I could write about. Because most of my brain space these last few days has been occupied by another challenge I had been facing. I was asked to cook for a dinner party for seven. Not a difficult task, under usual circumstances. But when I thought about those in attendance, I realized one of them had given up meat for Lent. Not a big deal, I frequently cook vegetarian. But add to that two lactose intolerants (one of whom also gave up sweets for Lent) and another who is deathly allergic to nuts, and there go a few good stand-bys like quiche, quiche, and quiche. Also, having recently read Smitten Kitchen's gracious post, I wanted to make Rachael Ray's You Won't Be Single For Long Vodka Cream Sauce. (My two cents' on RR is, well, simply this: Steph's amazing chocolate pudding is from her.) In any case, alas - vodka cream sauce contains, well, cream. Another no-go for the attendees.


So, anyway, the dinner. I was excited about this one. On the menu was a fellow foodblogger's Accidental Chickpea Soup, a Great Big Salad with Tomatoes and Cucumbers, Dessert Stolen From Someone Who Stole It From Cesar. For appetizers, crusty bread with all kinds of yummy tapenades: roasted garlic in warmed olive oil, parsley pesto but without almonds (it's official - I'm obsessed), sun-dried tomatoes, buttered mushrooms.


The dessert idea is so killer - figs and dates quartered and arranged in a flower pattern against white dishware with a dollop of lemon zest marscapone, drizzled with honey, garnished with an almond.

And, on a whim, I decided to use the lemon curd I made the night before (which I made for no other reason than just to make it), to make a lemon tart not unlike this one. For the curd itself, I used a hybrid of a few recipes I found, and I liked how it turned out - not too much sugar so that it's tart/sour enough to surprise you but not too sourface sour, if that makes sense. Maybe you'll just have to make it yourself. I think you'll like it, too.

Of course, getting to use my cake dome was really the highlight of it all. And the new pitcher. Oh, the new pitcher.


Two other things that made smile this week:

One. At Trader Joe's they were giving away balloons to the kids. I watched as what looked like a four-year-old girl tell her two-year-old brother, "Don't let go." As though the period at the end of her sentence were a cue, the little boy released his balloon just as she finished. The green balloon floated to the ceiling. I laughed out loud.

Two. On a more serious note, the other thing that made me smile this week was the rad sunset on Tuesday night. I think God uses these to remind me that He's in control. About a year-and-a-half ago I remember watching a sunset and sensing Him say to my heart that I don't lift a finger to make such a beautiful thing happen; can I not, therefore, trust Him to make a beautiful thing of all my life?

What two things made you smile/laugh this week?


(Thank you to my dear friend, David, for taking photographs tonight when I was without Elizabeth's point-and-shoot, the only camera with which I have any amount of familiarity.)


Here's a recipe for the tart; it's very flexible, so use your intuition and vary as you go!

Tart with chocolate and lemon curd

Tart:
1 prebaked tart
a handful or two of semi-sweet chocolate chips

Curd:
5 egg yolks plus 1 egg
1/2 cup lemon juice (~4-5 lemons)
zest from lemons (~1 tablespoon)
1/2 cup baker's sugar
5-8 tablespoons of butter

In a small saucepan, whisk together eggs, lemon juice, zest, and sugar. Heat on medium heat and continue to whisk constantly for about 8-10 minutes as it thickens. At some point, switch to a rubber spatula and continue to stir until it coats the back of the spatula, or you can run your finger through and it holds.

Remove from heat and stir in butter, a tablespoon at a time. Place saran wrap directly on surface to prevent skin from forming and refrigerate.

Place chocolate chips on tart. Place in warmed oven for a minute or so until chips begin to melt. (This works well when you've just baked the tart and the oven is already warm.) Remove and spread chips into a layer of chocolate. (I just used a butter knife; a spatula will do, too.) Refrigerate entire tart for a few minutes to cool.

Spread curd on top of tart with chocolate. Refrigerate some more. Garnish and serve!

touring my City

by Stephanie

Yes, I know, I have been absent from this blog for quite some time. But it's not my fault, really it's not. It's not my fault that Lisa has all this pent-up creativity and therefore has constant material to blog about, and it's certainly not my fault that I have no kitchen facilities at this house! I was thinking about the loveiscooking title of this blog, and how I rarely cook nowadays (when I get really hungry, like tonight, I call Lisa and bug her to cook for me). So, it's almost like for Lisa, loveiscooking, and for me...loveisbeingcookedfor? I know that's bad grammar, but you should bear with me because I have some fun stuff coming up.

So this entry is definitely less about cooking and food, and more about the things that I see. I'm currently interning at the Burt Children's Center, which is this incredible place for kids in need, and I will most likely have a lot more to say about it later, but for now...a few snapshots of the City (capitalized because it's the best city in the world...that is, San Francisco). The kids live in this huge renovated Victorian house and it is just gorgeous.

(check out that blue sky!)

Just across the street is Alamo Square, this gorgeous park with amazing views.

So if you grew up in the 90's like me, you definitely remember the TV show Full House. This is the exact lawn (I think?) where they run down in the beginning sequence!



I made friends with this doggy! There's a special section in the park where you can let your doggies run around unleashed and where I can pretend that your doggies are my doggies!

And then I went to this place I've been eyeing for quite some time. As a very recent Yelp convert, I kept reading about this place, this place that draws tons of raves from people, especially people who are obsessed with coffee. And so I decided on my way back from BCC that I would stop by because I am also obsessed with coffee. In short, it was amazing. I will say that I felt more than a little out of place because I am not a thirty-something San Francisco hipster. And after being in college for almost four years, it is weird to hang out with people who are older than 20. But it is a magical place, the very newly opened Blue Bottle Coffee cafe.



So Real Good coffee doesn't actually taste bitter; the bitterness comes from all this other gunk that manages to afflict most coffee around here. Blue Bottle coffee was slightly sweet, and with a bit of half & half it managed to be almost perfect. I love how the coffee here reflects the building up above.

Now this thing was incredible. (Notice how my vocabulary does not fall outside of words like "amazing" and "incredible". If you'd like some new words, inform me please.) I had never seen one of these things before...they had them set every 3 seats or so, and it's a cream pitcher on the top and a sugar bowl on the bottom! Coffee accessories never fail to delight me.

This cafe is famous because it houses a $20,000 coffee machine. I was way too intimidated by the trendy clientele and the ridiculous luxury of this thing to photograph it, so check out the NY Times article instead.

So look forward to more of the City! I'm there every Friday until May.

Setting the record straight

by Lisa

I have a few wonderful things to tell you about today, which I think we all deserve, since it is Valentine's Day.


Tonight I started making a beef stew tonight with no one in mind to feed. All my roommates had plans and I hadn't thought ahead of time, but I went with it. It turned out magical, and even more so when a few friends showed up. (Apparently, by calling to say I had a beef stew going I caused a previous dinner engagement to be broken. But it's okay, they said - they were going to have Pasta Roni, anyway.)

It all started last week when I was craving stewy meats, Mexican style - chile verde or colorado with tender, pulled pork. But we didn't have any tomatillos or pork. What we did have, however, was beef and the leftovers from a bottle of Newcastle that Albert had brought over last night for Maria's 21st. (Don't be disappointed, Albie, because you rejected the dinner invite for chicken and waffles. So yeah. ) After searing the flour-dusted beef cubes, I used the Newcastle to scrape up the drippings. The result? Deliciousness. I cooked the beef slowly on low heat with tomatoes, onions, garlic, jalepeno, a bit of cumin, oregano and bay leaf. The wonderful secret was a the smallest sliver of butter (inspired by a tomato sauce recipe I've been wanting to make).

My mom called in the middle of it all and gave me the brilliant suggestion of serving it over angel hair - brilliant because this would be more incentive to make Ms. Steph I-love-noodles-more-than-I-do-rice Lai come over. And because for weeks I'd been wondering what to do with all the stacks of capellini we have. (Somehow I find suitable purposes for all other shapes of pasta: fettuccine for pesto, shells for saucy stuff, spaghetti for garlic and olive oil [I'll have the share the Silver Palate recipe sometime] - but never anything for angel hair.) Anyway, Mom was right. It was delicious.

And now for the almost nothing-to-do-with-food comment of the day. The man at the flower shop by my house gave me a rose this morning on my way to work - isn't he sweet? And then on my way back from work a little baguette caught my eye and so I bought that. The two were just so perfect together, and I was very content. Anyway, it reminded me of the time last week I went two days in a row to Trader Joe's just to pick up three things: baguette, brie, and 71% cacao chocolate. (Yes, I share.) 12 items or fewer line? Why don't they just open up a lane for three? Let me just say: I could be wooed with bread and cheese and dark chocolate. (Flowers would help, too.) I'm just saying.


What three things could you be wooed with?


Newcastle beef stew over angel hair

1 1/2 pounds stew beef cubes
flour, salt, pepper for dusting
1/4 to 1/2 cup Newcastle or other similar brown ale
good-quality olive oil

1 medium white onion, chopped
1 can diced tomatoes, with juices
half jalepeno, sliced thinly, lengthwise
3 cloves garlic, pressed
1/4 to 1/2 teaspoon cumin
1/4 teaspoon oregano
1 bay leaf, cracked
1 pat butter (I used less than a tablespoon, but you can't go wrong with more)

1 pound angel hair
cilantro and lime (optional)

Rinse beef and and dust with a mixture of flour, salt and pepper. Heat stainless steel pan (preferably not nonstick) on medium heat. Add olive oil to cover the bottom of the pan and increase heat to medium-high. Add beef and allow to brown. (You may have to do this in two batches, adding additional oil if needed.) Turn and sear other side. Add seared meat to another pot in which you'll cook the stew. (This recipe would do well in a crock pot.) To that pot also add the vegetables, spices/herbs, and butter. Allow this to heat up while you scrape up the drippings. While the pan is on some heat, pour the beer in, scrape up the bits, and add it to the stew. When the stew is at about a boil, turn down heat and allow to simmer for as long as you can wait - forty-five minutes to an hour and a half would be great, but I don't think even we waited that long.

Ten minutes prior to serving, drop angel hair into boiling, salted water with a few drops of olive oil to keep from sticking. When cooked, drain and serve with beef stew on top.

Also, I didn't try it this time, but I'm sure it would be great with cilantro and a squeeze of lime. I wasn't sure if it would be good to put the cilantro into cook - it probably would be good, too. And we didn't have much more than a sip of the brewski left, but I'm sure dinner would go well served with whatever beer you use in the stew.

Lastly, I found a recipe for chile verde I'd like to try sometime. There are also nice pictures, so it's worth checking out.

A brainstorm of sorts

by Lisa


Oh, no. I think I have writer's block.

-

Okay, so I just took that to my wonderful roommate Maria, and we talked it out. So here's how I feel: I have been cooking up storms and taking pictures like nobody's business, but have had absolutely no inspiration this past week to write about any of it. Sure, I wanted to show off my pictures, but, having been an English major, I sort of cringe at the idea of having no theme for my writing. At the same time, this feeling reminded me of brainstorming ideas for papers in college or high school. I would have all these brilliant ideas jotted down on sheets of unlined paper - or if I was lucky, on a huge white board (thanks, Ms. Moore!) - seemingly disparate but somehow connected. Many a time I wished I could just turn in my brainstorm, filled, as it were, with bursts of ideas - raw, distilled, and ready to be unpacked, reinterpreted, connected, extended.

So that's what I come to offer today. My raw, unedited thoughts and reflections on what has been going on in my kitchen (and beyond). Is it okay if I show off - my work and others' - in unorganized/conglomerate fashion?

Let's start simple. I've been enjoying a lot of toast and English muffins lately. When I say a lot, I mean a lot. Like I'm-not-having-lunch-but-instead-I'll-have-three-slices-of toast-with-butter a lot. (Daily bread? Um, how about hourly bread?) I think the ability to be content with this simple jewel of a food has to do with the fact that I recently added salted butter to the repository that is our fridge; usually, unsalted does the trick for all the baking that goes on around here, certainly not by me.

(Steph wants to know if anyone else eats buttered toast upside down so that the butter hits your tongue first.)

I tried to make cornmeal pancakes, like they make at Rick and Ann's, but I have yet to perfect the recipe. If anyone has ideas, please let me know!


My friend Milton (whom I had over for shepherd's pie) made me amazing chicken katsu, which is what inspired today's adventure with Stephanie. It was such a pleasant, satisfying meal - brussels sprouts gave it a spin on the traditional bed of shredded cabbage. Recipe to come soon (perhaps), along with a magic sauce. In the mean time, find yourself an old t-shirt to wear while deep-frying.


One word: quiche.


Also, I went through a phase this week when I made things from other good food blogs: curried egg salad, quick black beans with cumin and oregano, and (ahem) more of that parsley pesto. The humbling reality of it all is that I really haven't made up much myself. But that's okay, if it means I get to have Arizmendi pizza. (Steph and I are in the process of whipping out a plan to storm all the good pizza places in the area.) And I certainly don't mind the simple things like oranges and buttered toast.


I don't need to end this thing formally, do I? It is, after all, a brainstorm. Maybe I'll expand on any one of these topics someday. But until then, have a happy weekend!

I feel like breaking all the rules today and not leaving a recipe. This isn't because I don't love you, because I do. It's because I almost never write down recipes, which I know surprises people when they find out I was also a chemistry major. (I hated lab notebooks, except for finding other uses for carbon paper.) And so it's a lot of work when I write a post and have to figure out what I did and share it so you can replicate it at home. Sometimes I even do it again on my own with the measurements just to make sure it's exactly the same. (Example: tonight I tried to redo the katsu sauce and it just wasn't the same as when I did it the first time without measuring.) And now I'm tired and just want to get this post up on the web. But I'd be happy to give rough instructions for anything if you give me a ring. Or, better yet, just show up at my door and I'll make you something real quick. I may not feel like writing, but I almost always feel like cooking.

Thanks for reading!

Easy as pie

by Lisa


It has been freezing these days in Berkeley. So last Friday when I had friends over for dinner, I knew what I had to make. Of course, what I really wanted to make was Molly's parsley pesto again, which to be honest I've been making almost compulsively since we first made it last week. (Is three times in a week a lot?) But I knew I needed to have something more substantial, something warm and comforting. In the kitchen I found an unassuming bag of russet potatoes and then it hit me - those two words: shepherd's pie. It was the idea I had been looking for and didn't know, and/but heck - I'm always looking for excuses to turn on our gas oven. (It heats up our house nicely.)

It was raining (torrentially, I might add) that day, but I was not going to let that keep me from getting ground beef. Armed with an umbrella, I hiked up my jeans and headed to the store.


Actually, to tell you the truth, the whole time I had arguments with myself as to whether or not it was a good idea. Though my jeans stayed dry, my shoes and feet did not. I thought to myself, is it time to get polka dotted rainboots or fake Uggs? I hope not. But as I continued along and thought about the hot and bubbly creamy mashed potatoes on top of tasty ground beef, I came to my senses. And I'm glad I did. It truly was a good day to make shepherd's pie.

We had the pie with a salad, Greek-ish: baby greens, cherry tomatoes, red onions, and feta with a vinaigrette made from lemon zest and juice, olive oil, coarse kosher sea salt and freshly ground pepper. Of course we had a fresh warm loaf of bread, too, and I probably could have just eaten that and been content, but then again - no, the pie was to die for, even worth the cost of getting drenched in the rain.


So, whether or not it's raining today where you live, let me tell you: today is a good day to make shepherd's pie.


Okay, now that I've written you a beautiful, heartfelt post, it's time for you to send me/us some love! My shameless plug:

Our blog is powered by Blogger and your comments. Really. Comments equals love, says Stephanie. Maybe you thought you need a blogger account to comment. You don't! In fact, you don't even need a gmail account. (Though they are pretty spiffy.) So leave us some love; let us know you stopped by. Don't remain a stalker - a closet love-is-cooking-reader, if you will - like some. Ahem. (End shameless plug.)

Now for the recipe...

Shepherd's Pie

For the potatoes:
5 medium sized potatoes (peeled or not)
1 tablespoon butter
roughly half a cup of milk
salt and pepper

For the filling/pie:
1.5 pounds ground beef
2-3 carrots, peeled and chopped
1 medium yellow onion, diced
half a bag of frozen green peas
1 tablespoon oil
1 packet mushroom gravy mix (I know, most gourmets don't have this kind of stuff sitting around, but yanno. It is okay to go out in the rain for this ingredient. I promise it'll be worth it.)

Preheat oven to 400.

Potatoes. Boil salted water for potatoes. Throw in diced potatoes and boil, covered, until cooked, about 20 minutes. (I left the skins on, and some fell off while cooking, so I had about 1/3 of the skins in my mashed potatoes. This was the effect I wanted, as so really, my laziness paid off for me this time!) Drain, and to a large bowl, add potatoes (with however much skin you like), milk, butter, salt and pepper and mix with a hand beater or potato masher until smooth. Adjust milk to desired consistency. It's better to err on the wet side since it dries a bit in the oven.

Filling. While potatoes are boiling, heat oil in large pan. Add onions and sautee until they are lighter in color. Add carrots stir and cover, allowing them to cook, about 10 minutes. Set vegetables aside and cook ground meat in pan; drain if there is excess fat. Combine meat with vegetables, then add frozen peas and heat until peas are brought to the same temperature as the rest. Sprinkle mushroom gravy mix (don't add water!) to mixture and stir to combine.

Putting it all together. Spread meat mixture on bottom of 9x13 pan. Spread potatoes on top; leave it rough so that it browns nicely. Bake at 400 for about 30 minutes until warmed through and nicely browned. (Recipes online said until "hot and bubbly." I wanted mine to get bubbly, but it started getting too dark before it ever got there. Am I a failure?)

Serve with salad, bread, all the good stuff.