Shepherd’s Pie: How I Make This Cozy Classic at Home

Let Me Tell You About My Shepherd’s Pie Habit

Alright, so here’s the deal—I’ve been making Shepherd’s Pie since before I could properly mash potatoes (which, honestly, is harder than TV chefs make it look; my first attempt was basically lumpy wallpaper paste). If you’ve never tried making it yourself, mate, you’re in for a treat—there’s just something about bubbling gravy and crispy-mashed spuds that makes it my go-to comfort dish. The smell alone takes me straight back to Sunday evenings when Mum would be wrestling the family into the kitchen, yelling about everyone washing their hands first. I never did, and somehow, we survived.

Oh, and once I tried to turn it into a vegan pie for my mate Dave. Let's just say lentils are not always the answer. Lesson learned.

Why I Keep Coming Back to This Pie

I make Shepherd’s Pie when it’s raining outside (which, if you live where I do, is most of the time), or when my family is being picky and I want zero arguments about dinner. My dad used to say it’s the only way he’d eat peas, and he was right—there’s something magic about how it all comes together. Plus, if you’re like me and you’re not always perfectly organized, this is forgiving; I’ve swapped out half the veggies for whatever was getting a bit dodgy in the fridge. And I honestly think it tastes even better the next day—assuming there is any left to reheat, which, in my house, is rare as hen’s teeth.

Stuff You’ll Need (And What Works in a Pinch)

• 500g ground lamb (sometimes I use beef if that’s what I’ve got—don’t tell my Irish gran)
• 1 large onion, diced
• 2-3 carrots, chopped up small (or just a hefty handful of frozen peas and carrots; no shame)
• 2 cloves garlic, minced (though I’ve used garlic powder when feeling lazy—don’t judge me)
• 2 tablespoon tomato paste (ketchup actually works, if you’re desperate)
• 1.5 tablespoon Worcestershire sauce (my grandmother swears by Lea & Perrins, but honestly, the supermarket stuff is fine)
• 1 cup beef or chicken stock (or a stock cube and hot water, which I’ve done more times than I can count)
• 1 teaspoon dried thyme or mixed herbs
• About 1kg potatoes, peeled and chopped for mashing
• 2-3 tablespoon butter (salted is fine—no need for fancy stuff)
• ⅓ cup milk (I’ve used oat milk before, and it’s actually not bad)
• Salt and pepper, to taste
• Handful of grated cheese (optional, but I love the crispy top it gives; use mature cheddar if you want a bite)

How I Actually Make This (Not Always Pretty, But It Works)

1. Potatoes first! Get your potatoes boiling in salty water. You want them fork-tender—around 15-20 minutes. While that's going, let's start the meat.
2. Brown the lamb. In a big-ish pan, cook the lamb over medium heat till it’s crumbly and browned. (This is where I sneak a taste—just a bit, to check seasoning. Or maybe because I’m impatient.) If there’s too much fat, spoon some out, but leave a bit for flavor.
3. Add the veg. Toss in the onions, carrots, and garlic. Cook until the onions go soft and you’re getting that great smell—about 5 minutes, give or take. Don’t panic if your carrots are still a bit crunchy, they’ll soften up later.
4. Tomato paste and sauce. Stir in tomato paste and Worcestershire sauce. Let that cook for a minute. Then, pour in the stock and dried herbs. Simmer for 10-12 minutes, until it thickens up. If it’s looking thin, I sometimes mash a bit of potato into the sauce (a trick I stole form an old friend, thanks, Jamie!). Season it well.
5. Drain and mash your potatoes. Add butter, milk, and some salt. Mash until smooth-ish. If it’s lumpy, don’t sweat it! Rustic is in. Actually, I find I like a few chunks for texture.
6. Assemble! Spoon the meat mixture into a baking dish. Dollop the mash over the top and spread it out. (I use a fork to make ridges—it helps the cheese get extra crispy.) Sprinkle cheese on top if you want.
7. Bake. Into a hot oven (about 200°C or 400°F) for 20-25 minutes. You want the top golden and bubbling at the edges. If you see any gravy escaping—don’t worry, that’s the good stuff. Let it sit for 10 minutes before attacking it; trust me, molten mash is brutal on the tongue.

What I Wish I’d Figured Out Sooner

• Letting it sit before serving stops it sliding everywhere. Ask me how I know.
• Don’t go nuts with milk in the mash, or you’ll get potato soup on top (and yes, it’s happened).
• Using a fork for the mash topping is not just for looks—it really crisps up nicely. I used to think that was just for show.

Things I’ve Tried (Some Worked, Some Not So Much)

• I once swapped half the potatoes for sweet potato. It’s actually tasty, but my youngest wasn’t impressed. Orange mash is apparently alarming to some.
• Adding frozen corn into the meat layer—surprisingly decent.
• Vegan version with lentils: no one liked it... but maybe you’ll have better luck?

Do You Need Fancy Equipment? Absolutely Not.

If you don’t have a masher, use a fork or (carefully!) a mug. I broke my masher ages ago and survived. Baking dish? I’ve used a roasting tin, and once even a cake pan—no one noticed.

Keeping Leftovers (If There Are Any…)

Stick leftovers in the fridge, covered, for up to 2 days—they reheat beautifully in the oven or microwave. That said, it’s rare for a slice to survive overnight at my place. I personally think it tastes richer after a day in the fridge, but maybe that’s just me.

How I Like to Serve It (Your Mileage May Vary)

We usually eat Shepherd’s Pie with boiled peas or a simple green salad. My sister swears by a squirt of brown sauce on the side, but I think she’s a bit odd. Thick slices of crusty bread for mopping up the gravy is also ace (I recommend this easy bread recipe if you fancy baking your own). And a cuppa tea if you’re feeling full-on British.

Stuff I Learned the Hard Way

• Don’t rush the simmering—once I did, and the flavors were all over the shop. Give it time, it’s worth it.
• If you try to spread the mash before the meat cools a bit, it’ll sink in. Not the end of the world, but a bit messy-looking.
• Experiment but don’t go wild first time round. I got cocky and dumped in hot sauce once—regret.

Real Questions I’ve Been Asked (And My Real Answers)

• Can I freeze Shepherd’s Pie? Yep, just wrap it tight. It might get a bit watery when reheated, but it’ll still taste grand. I like to reheat in the oven rather than microwave.
• Isn’t it supposed to be made with lamb? Officially, yes. But if you use beef, you’re making Cottage Pie (which is just as good, honestly, and sometimes cheaper).
• Can I skip the cheese? Of course! It’s totally optional. But why would you?
• Can I add more veg? Absolutely. Chuck in whatever’s about to turn (parsnips, swede, even mushrooms). Or check out this variation I like for inspiration.
• What if my mash is runny? Let it cool a bit, then spread it on gently. Or just go with it—it’ll still taste great, just won’t win any beauty contests.

One last thing: I once had to make this without any potatoes and used thick slices of white bread as the topping. Not traditional, but, you know, not awful either. Sometimes, you just have to make do with what’s in the cupboard. (Speaking of cupboards, I keep meaning to clean out that top shelf. Maybe next week.)

There you go! Shepherd’s Pie, the way I make it—real, a bit messy, and always satisfying.