Last week, I mentioned that I was on a family holiday with the in-laws, frolicking among fluffy sheep on the fields of England. Here are some nice pictures of us with baby animals and baby humans:
The other thing that happened was that we went to the Dartmoor Diner in Plymouth, a cozy, quaint little restaurant by the side of the road that leads into Dartmoor National Park, a windswept expanse of rolling hills, heather, and grazing farm animals. The Dartmoor Diner is amazing. It has big windows overlooking the moors, wooden tables and chairs, and, like all diners worth their muster, a counter full of desserts as big as your head by the entrance. Their desserts are no joke, and if anything are even bigger, more decadent versions of classic dinner sweet fare. As we walked past, I ogled a sky-high lemon meringue tart, a dark, thick wedge of fudgy chocolate cake, and a Maltesers pavlova brimming with candy, chocolate, and caramel. As good as the desserts looked, however, nobody even managed to get one, as we were stuffed after our meal. The Dartmoor Diner food is hearty, filling, comfort British food – full of casseroles, pies, and roast meats. Being near the ocean, there was also a substantial seafood section with fish cakes and fried shrimp.
I went for the classic fish and chips. There are foods that I absolutely must get when in certain countries, and fish and chips in Britain is one such example. This past trip, I had fish and chips twice! Now – you are thinking – the title and the pictures of this post are for moussaka. Why is this crazy lady babbling on about fish and chips?! Well, the answer is that while I was very happy with my meal, and very delicious and fresh that it was, I nevertheless suffer hopelessly from food envy, and my mother-in-law’s moussaka was singing a siren song. As good as fresh fried fish is, it is nevertheless not an ooey, gooey meat casserole. There is something endlessly comforting about a casserole in any form, with its bubbling, oozing cheese and its layers of hot, steaming, multifaceted goodness, its browned top crust and squishy interiors. It may sound crazy, but the way that my mind works is that I could not stop thinking about that moussaka! And so, as soon as I got home, as soon as I could, I made one all for myself.
Moussaka is fairly labor intensive, and requires a lot of prep and simmering. I would definitely save it for a lazy Sunday! But you can also make an incredible amount of it to eat through the week. In all my obsession about moussaka, I might have gone overboard – I made enough for four (FOUR!) meals for both James and me, and we ate it for dinner straight through from Monday to Thursday. I may have gotten my moussaka fix for the next six months. Anyway, I’m not sure that this moussaka is the most authentic, but it is a flavorful, comforting, warm blend of meat, spices, eggplant, and potato that comes out of the oven with bubbling juices and crisp, cheesy edges.
Some Notes:
We have been eating a lot of pork lately! The way I decide what to make usually goes like this… Jackie procrastinates by perusing food blogs and food magazines… Jackie is sucked in by some yummy looking food photos or tasty food description… Jackie obsesses over this recipe for the rest of the day/week until Jackie can procure the ingredients and get to cookin’… And that’s how I found myself salivating over these crispy, fatty carnitas tacos topped with spicy slaw and fresh avocado! I’ve actually made these tacos before, about three years ago, right when James and I first met. He was away in London visiting family when I made them, and I remember sending him a picture of my finished product, extraordinarily proud of the flavor and tenderness I’d coaxed from the pork meat. He sent back a sad face emoji, and some complaint along the lines of “why you making such delicious food without me?!” and I knew it was true love, because he knew that the way to my heart was endless praise of my cooking.
Now, I’ve finally gotten around to making these again, this time with James in the country, and they were every bit as good as I remember. The pork simmers down flavorful and succulent, with the citrus adding a bright, zesty zing to complement the richness of the meat. The slaw is crunchy, fresh, and spicy from the onions and serrano peppers. It’s a refreshing topping for the tacos, but I also add another scoopful as a side and eat it all on its own.
These carnitas focus on a few, quality ingredients. Use fresh everything (don’t even think about bottled lime juice), and let them cook slowly. The meat braises in the water bath to tenderize, and then, once the water cooks off, it fries in its own rendered fat, resulting in crisp, browned edges. The carnitas need a long time to cook, but other than the time factor, they are relatively hands off. The slaw is fairly easy as well (if requiring a blender or food processor), so you can easily get other Sunday jobs done while checking in on the kitchen every once in a while. You could, conceivably, even make these on a weeknight if you can get off early from work, are somehow incredibly masochistic, and don’t mind eating dinner after 8 PM. How do I know? Confession – I did exactly that. I meant to make these on Sunday, but was having too much fun, or napping too much, or went out to watch BlacKkKlansman (YES!! Please watch this movie – it’s amazing!), or… something, and didn’t manage to make any dinner that day. Oops. Anyway, this is a roundabout way of saying that I made these on a weeknight (because I could not stop my obsession – see above), but no sane person should.
However, for the chilly fall Sunday that will inevitably pop up, when the sky outside is grey and dark, these tacos will bring all the color and cheer of the tropics into your kitchen. This recipe is also great for a dinner party, as it makes a ton of tacos with relatively minimal effort from you. I’d say the carnitas recipe would make enough for at least 12 tacos, as written; I see no reason why you couldn’t also scale the recipe up. The slaw recipe will definitely provide enough slaw to dress 12 tacos, with likely also a scoop for everyone on the side. Warm some tortillas, add some avocado slices, chopped cilantro, onion, and tada! Taco parties are the best parties.
While James was reading my blog a few weeks ago (as he is my most loyal reader and proofreader), he mentioned that maybe I talk about him too much. So I went back and read some recent posts, and realized that maybe he is right?? So then I actively tried not to do that. I wrote about the food or the ingredients, or why I chose certain recipes, or other friends. But it was impossible not to mention James! Our tastes and preferences have been slowly, subconsciously merging over the past few years, and James’s likes now influence and inspire so much of what I (we) make. In discovering how much James crops up on this blog, though, I’ve come to realize that perhaps I have been underestimating the role that James plays in our kitchen life.
I think that, as a feminist living in a brave new 21st century world, I’m sometimes embarrassed by how much I love cooking and baking, because of the historical connotations. There are definitely times when I feel like a clichéd trope of a wife, bustling around in my apron and timing everything to get dinner on the table just as James comes home. To be clear, I am not disparaging or devaluing in any way any person (male or female) who chooses to focus on the household in place of formal employment, or who chooses to focus on the household as their formal employment. But these days, when the opportunities and identities available to women are more abundant, varied, and exciting than ever, from entrepreneur to movie director to presidential candidate, it’s hard to feel like I’m breaking the glass ceiling when I’m just doing in my own kitchen what women have been doing for centuries in their own kitchens, usually by obligation and very infrequently by choice.
So sometimes I project my discomfort about this particular identity onto James, when he gets home late or doesn’t help enough around dinnertime. I get anxious that James isn’t pulling his weight and we’re reverting back to traditional gender roles. But writing this blog has given me a completely new sense of how much of a presence and support James is, even though he may not be physically chopping up the carrots or stirring the risotto. He’s always interested, and he always takes me rambling on about the correct way to wash produce or the necessity of using up the celery in the fridge very seriously. Even though I do most of the cooking, he holds a number of indispensable supporting roles – as sous chef, dish washer, deputy grocery shopper, feedback provider, moral supporter, and trouble shooter. And for all of that, I’m very grateful. In short, I’m afraid chitter chatter about James is here to stay! Skip to the pictures and recipes if you don’t like the commentary!
Speaking of pictures…
The justification for the above philosophizing is that today’s recipe, cottage pie, is as British as James. You may be confused, and thinking, what is cottage pie?? Well, you may know it as its more common cousin, shepherd’s pie. However, there is actually a difference between the two, and that’s in the meat: shepherd’s pie contains lamb (which makes sense: shepherds… lambs), and cottage pie contains beef! So, what is commonly labeled as shepherd’s pie here in the U.S. is a misnomer – it’s actually cottage pie. Cottage pie is delicious British comfort food, a rich, meaty stew of minced beef, carrots, celery, and onions, stewed with plenty of herbs and spices, and topped with a creamy, cheesy mash of potatoes. It’s so unbelievably good, and freezes wonderfully, which means you can double the recipe and freeze one for later, or gift one to busy friends and neighbors. When our friends Rupa and Dave had a baby, James and I brought them a frozen cottage pie, and felt both very adult, and very suburban, toting over a meat pie.
Cottage pie is fairly straightforward to make, and requires only some basic ingredients and food preparation, but it is rather time intensive – with softening the vegetables, simmering the beef mixture, then baking the final assembled dish, just the total cooking time can take up to an hour and 45 minutes. You also have to prepare two separate components – the beef mixture and the potato mash, which is sort of annoying. Thus, it’s not really appropriate for the weeknight. James and I usually make it on a slow Sunday, or, we divide the work over two days – we make the beef mixture on Sunday, then make the potato mash and bake it on Monday. This also has the advantage of letting the beef mixture cool entirely and thicken a little, which prevents the potato mash from sinking into the gravy.
Other Notes:
Servings | Fuss Factor | Total Time | Prep Time | Cook Time |
---|---|---|---|---|
5-6 | Sunday Dinner | 2 hours 10 minutes | 25 minutes | 1 hour 45 minutes |