Combine lamb meat, water, 1 tsp salt, ½ tsp pepper, and baking soda in a bowl (it is best to use your hands to mix the ingredients). Set aside until ready.INGREDIENTS
2 lb ground lamb meat
2 Tbsp water
2 tsp salt, divided
1 tsp pepper, divided
½ tsp baking soda
7 Tbsp unsalted butter, divided
2 cups onion, chopped (we used sweet onions)
1½ cups oyster mushrooms, trimmed and chopped
1 small turnip, about 1 cup
3 cloves garlic, minced
½ cup Guinness
1 cup beef stock
2 Tbsp flour
2 tsp Worcestershire sauce
3 sprigs thyme, stems removed and discarded
2 bay leaves
2 carrots, peeled and chopped
1 quart chicken stock
2½ lb potatoes, peeled and cut into 1-inch pieces (we used a combination of russet and white sweet potatoes)
½ cup cream
1 egg yolk, large
2 Tbsp chives
DIRECTIONS
Combine lamb meat, water, 1 tsp salt, ½ tsp pepper, and baking soda in a bowl (it is best to use your hands to mix the ingredients). Set aside until ready.
In a large cast-iron skillet (we used a 12-inch pan), heat 1 Tbsp butter over medium heat. Add the onions, mushrooms, remaining 1 tsp salt, remaining ½ tsp pepper, and turnips. Cook until soft and the liquid has evaporated. Add the garlic, stir, and cook for 2 minutes. Add the Guinness, and scrape up any brown bits on the bottom of the pan. Add the beef stock, and heat liquid until it reduces by half.
In a small bowl, combine the flour and 2 Tbsp melted butter. Slowly incorporate into the Guinness liquid. Add the Worcestershire, thyme, bay leaves, and carrots. Stir.
Reduce the heat to medium-low and add the lamb meat. Use the back of a wooden spoon to break apart the meat. Cover the pan for 10 minutes until the meat is cooked. Remove the cover and the bay leaf. Stir, and drop the heat to low to simmer.
Set the oven to 375 degrees. In a stockpot, add the chicken stock and bring to a boil. Add the potatoes and cook until a fork can be easily inserted. Drain thoroughly, and add the potatoes back to the pan.
In a small bowl, combine the remaining 4 Tbsp cooled melted butter, cream, egg yolk, and chives. Incorporate the butter mixture with the potatoes using whatever technique you like—we used an emulsion blender. Do not over-mix as the potatoes can get gummy.
Add the potatoes to the top of your lamb mixture by piping it out using a plastic bag, with a corner cut out. This technique makes the process easier and presentation nicer, compared to simply plopping the potatoes on top. Use a knife to evenly spread the piped potatoes over the top. Take a fork and draw in wavy lines for presentation.
Using both hands (this will be heavy), place the pan on top of a rimmed baking sheet to prevent spillage. Cook in the oven until brown, about 15 minutes.
Well, if you’ve ever had to help a child with their history homework (seems this is how we adults get reminded of American History facts), you may have read that Benjamin Franklin was serious about his food. For a short time during his teen years, he was even a vegetarian! He was also big into native ingredients, such as cranberries and maple syrup. Good ol’ Ben was also responsible for introducing tofu to the colonies. Yup, that’s right—tofu. However, we’ll forgive him for that because he did describe it as a cheese. If you think of tofu in that way, it seems a little more palatable (apologies to the tofu fans reading this; we’re working on our aversion).
Franklin is also credited for making the potato a mainstream vegetable. Even the French deemed this root veggie poisonous (which is ironic, considering that we now call fried potatoes French fries). This prompted him to become an advocate for all foods from the colonies, and he often wrote of the New World’s fantastic edible offerings.
As if we don’t find Franklin and his love for food impressive enough, his sense of humor is even more remarkable. This is evident in a little story he wrote in 1780 called “Dialogue Between Franklin and the Gout.” Enjoy.
FRANKLIN: Eh! oh! eh! What have I done to merit these cruel sufferings?
THE GOUT: Many things; you have ate and drank too freely, and too much indulged those legs of yours in their indolence.
FRANKLIN: Who is it that accuses me?
THE GOUT: It is I, even I, the Gout.
FRANKLIN: What! my enemy in person?
THE GOUT: [. . .] While the mornings are long, and you have leisure to go abroad, what do you do? Why, instead of gaining an appetite for breakfast, by salutary exercise, you amuse yourself with books, pamphlets, or newspapers, which commonly are not worth the reading. Yet you eat an inordinate breakfast, four dishes of tea, with cream, and one or two buttered toasts, with slices of hung beef, which I fancy are not things the most easily digested. Immediately afterwards you sit down to write at your desk, or converse with persons who apply to you on business. Thus the time passes till one, without any kind of bodily exercise.
Oh, Mr. Franklin, we don’t exercise, either.
