Carrot Goat Cheese Shepherd’s Pie

I’ve made this shepherd’s pie before. For my friend Emma. We ate it. I forgot to take photos [so typical] and let’s be real — shepherd’s pie really isn’t the most photogenic thing in the world. Yet when I made it again, I wanted a photo so I could tell you about it. No one wants to hear me drone on and on about goat cheese without a photo.

It really is amazing what goat cheese can do to elevate some mashed potatoes. I’d take these over most mashed potatoes almost any day of the week. I’ve seen mashed potatoes with sour cream or creme fraiche for a tangy addition, but the goat cheese trumps it all. The carrots add a hint of sweet but it’s mostly muted but the goat cheese. The color though. That’s what the carrots do more than anything. Or I just have a tendency to have buy the boring bland carrots. Maybe both. Probably both. Making it with the mixture of pork and sirloin is worthwhile. Lamb would be lovely as well. This recipe is perfect for annoying the guys behind the meat counter by asking for small amounts of everything. It’s becoming a favorite pastime of mine. Usually I’m met with disappointment when I only pick up one thing, like a pound of pork, but I make their day for about three seconds when I ask for 1/4 pound of pork after getting the ground sirloin. It’s the little things.

Brussels sprouts are such a good addition to the pie. They’re made deliciously tender and pick up the flavors of the other ingredients. It reminds me of the bubble and squeak at Radar. I would have no shame smothering the pie with gravy. Why isn’t that a thing?

Carrot Goat Cheese Shephards Pie

Inspiration: A Cozy Kitchen


  • 1lb russet potatoes, peeled and diced
  • 8 carrots, peeled and diced
  • 6 brussels sprouts, quartered
  • 1/2 yellow onion, diced
  • 1 garlic clove, minced
  • 1/4lb ground pork
  • 1/2lb ground beef
  • 3 tablespoons butter
  • 3oz goat cheese
  • 2 teaspoons whole milk
  • 1 tablespoon flour
  • 2 teaspoons tomato paste
  • 1 cup beef broth
  • 1 teaspoon Worcestershire
  • 2 rosemary sprigs
  • olive oil
  • salt and pepper


Place the potatoes and half of the carrots in a pot and cover them with water. Bring the water to a boil and then reduce to a simmer. Simmer until they are super soft. You should be able to crush them with a fork. It should take about 15-20 minutes. Drain the pot and add the vegetables back to the pot. Add the goat cheese, butter, and whole milk and mash everything together. Taste for salt and pepper and set aside.

While the potatoes are boiling, preheat the oven to 400°. Heat a tablespoon of olive oil to medium high heat in a large skillet. When the oil is hot, add in the brussels sprouts, the remaining carrots, and onion. Saute. After about five minutes, add in the garlic. Stir often to keep it from burning. Add in the pork, beef, and about 1/2 teaspoon of salt and pepper. Stir to break up the meat. Once it’s browned and cooked through, add the flour and stir to combine. Add in the broth, tomato paste, Worcestershire, and rosemary. Bring the broth to a boil before reducing to a simmer. Simmer for 10-12 minutes so the sauce thickens.

Spread the meat mixture in a 8×8″ pan. Top with the goat cheese mash. Spread it as evenly as possible, covering the meat mixture entirely. Bake for 25 minutes. If the potatoes don’t start to brown, you can place it under a broiler to get some color. Remove from the oven and let the pan cool for 15 minutes before eating.

Pumpkin Pie Snickerdoodle Bars

More pumpkin! Contain your enthusiasm.

Before we get into the awesome that are these cookie-pie-bar-things though, we need to talk about my [new?] favorite pizza in Portland. Tastebud isn’t new by any means, but the restaurant in Multnomah Village is. They had a location years ago on the east side that touted an all-you-can-eat pizza night on Sundays that made me weak in the knees. The pizza [and bagels, don’t forget those bagels] had me hooked. Then the shop disappeared and they focused primarily on their bagels and mobile pizza cart. They would pop up at the Wednesday farmers market by the office office, and I would make sure to get some nearly every week. The wood fired oven makes not only great dough but does magical things to vegetables. I highly suggest veggie pies even if they arent your normal thing.

Now Tastebud is back in brick and mortar fashion. They’re busy on a Sunday not long after they open. We waited about 30 minutes, and it was well worth it. Get the kale salad. The anchovy aioli does magical things to kale and the bagel chips are the perfect crouton substitute. Then pick a pizza. Any pizza. It’s not traditional thin crust, but it’s still on the thinner side and the ends are so pillow soft with a hint of wood fired char. My mouth waters at the thought. The mozzarella is applied liberally but it’s high quality and doesn’t turn into a cheese brick. It’s exceptional pizza. There were no leftovers. I don’t think there will ever be leftovers.

These cookie/pie bars are a hybrid of delicious proportions. They are more than worth the idea of using pumpkin outside of pumpkin season. The Snickerdoodle base comes together easily without cream of tartar or anything fancy. Mix and spread. Easy. The pumpkin pie tastes just like the real thing. I’m sure if pumpkin pies came with a Snickerdoodle crust, they would easily be the best pies of all time. Before eating them all, they came with me to a party because who doesn’t want treats at a party?

Go ahead and leave them in until that toothpick comes out clear. These are a dense, moist bar. I love raw dough as much as the next person, but these are better if you wait it out. The consistency becomes much more sturdy and bar-like.

Pumpkin Pie Snickerdoodle Bars

Inspiration: Plain Chicken


  • 4 cups all-purpose flour
  • 3 teaspoons baking powder
  • 2 teaspoon salt
  • 2 cups packed brown sugar
  • 1 cup + 2 tablespoons sugar
  • 1 1/2 cups room temperature butter
  • 4 eggs, room temperature
  • 1 tablespoon vanilla
  • 2 tablespoons +1 teaspoon cinnamon
  • 1/4 teaspoon ginger
  • 1/4 teaspoon nutmeg
  • 1/4 teaspoon allspice
  • 1 can pumpkin puree


Preheat the oven to 350° and lightly grease a 13×9 pan.

In the bowl of a mixer, add 1 cup of butter, 2 cups brown sugar, 2 eggs, and 1 tablespoon vanilla. Beat the ingredients together until light and smooth. Stir in 3 cups of flour, 2 teaspoons baking powder, and 1 teaspoon salt. Don’t over-mix and then spread the base layer into the bottom of the prepared pan.

Clean out the bowl and then beat together the remaining butter and 1 cup sugar. Stir in flour, 1 teaspoon baking powder, 1 teaspoon salt, cinnamon through allspice, and the pumpkin puree. Spread that layer over the cookie layer.

Combine the remaining two tablespoons of sugar and two tablespoons of cinnamon, and sprinkle that as evenly as possible. Bake everything for 35-40 minutes. A clean toothpick means you’re in good shape. Let it cool at least 15 minutes before cutting into it so it maintains integrity.


Pumpkin Chickpea Stew with Browned Sage

This pumpkin chickpea stew is brought to you by a break in-between study sessions.

Pumpkin in January isn’t that weird, right? You’ll probably have a better time finding cans of it this time of year anyway. Actually, maybe not. Does anyone know where they keep it when it’s not on end-caps or in towering pyramids at the front of the store? I kid. The pumpkin puree ends up being a thickener more than a flavor profile, so take that as it is.

Everything I’ve been making lately tends to fall into the cozy camp — soups, stews, shepherd’s pie, pasta, baked goods. It’s as if it’s been cold and damp or something. There has also been an obscene amount of Thai basil pork being made too, but it’s spicy so that counts towards cozy in my book. My parents gifted me a cast-iron wok for Christmas, so using it coupled with the ease of the recipe means I’m making it a lot.

Is cozy a food group? It should be. It’s a quality I immediately gravitate towards. Salads, unfortunately, have a hard time making the cozy cut, unless they’re warm and nutty like the brown rice salad at Picnic House. Roasted yams, carrots, arugula, asparagus, toasted almonds, and a hazelnut vinaigrette over brown rice. See? Comforting.

The last few recipes made me laugh because they were that bland color, and this really isn’t that much different. There’s more of this color to come, my friends. More pumpkin, too. Apparently I’m a creature of habit.

This stew turned a little soupy on the first round, but thickened considerably upon cooling. By the next day, the liquid was gone and an amalgamation of pumpkin-y chickpeas and orzo remained. Still totally edible. It’s like two different meals for the effort of one. The flavor the browned sage’s earthiness brings nestles right in there with the sweetness of the pumpkin and carrot. Chickpeas seem to serve mostly as protein that matches the consistency of its fellow ingredients. They take on whatever flavor you want them to. The whole thing comes together really quickly, taking up just about as much time as it takes you to chop up the onion and carrot.

Pumpkin Chickpea Stew

Inspiration: Food52


  • 2 tablespoons olive oil
  • 1 can chickpeas, rinsed and drained
  • 1 can pumpkin puree
  • 1 carrot, chopped evenly [feel free to peel it if that’s your style]
  • 1/2 onion, chopped evenly
  • 6-8 sage leaves, halved
  • 1 quart chicken broth
  • 1 1/2 cups orzo or other small pasta


In a large sauce pan with high enough walls to hold all of your liquids, heat the olive oil on medium high heat. Add the carrot, onion, and sage. Stir occasionally until the carrot and onion soften and the sage starts to brown, about 5-7 minutes. The smell is heavenly.

Add the chickpeas, pumpkin, and broth. Use your spoon to deglaze any of the onion bits off the bottom of the pan and stir so the pumpkin is broken up into the broth. Bring the broth to a boil before adding the orzo. Reduce heat to a simmer and cook the orzo for about 8 minutes. It should be al dente.

Caldo Verde – Portuguese Green Soup

Be still my heart. I miss Portugal. This soup makes me realize just how much I miss it. Travel planning is in full force around here. I don’t want to jinx where we think we’re headed yet, but once I know for sure, you’ll know. I promise.

Sidenote: I’m in love with the idea of making the other soup we had in Porto, papas de sarrabulho, but the odds of me actually cooking with pork entrails and blood are next to none. Maybe the one Portuguese restaurant in Portland will make it one of these days. I would be all over it.

[The brown theme rages on]

Caldo Verde Soup

Inspiration: Food52


  • 2lbs cauliflower florets
  • 1 teaspoon cumin
  • 1/2 tablespoon smoked paprika
  • 2 tablespoons olive oil + more for roasting
  • 1 yellow onion, chopped
  • 4 garlic cloves, minced
  • 1 teaspoon red chile flakes [more or less depending on your tastes]
  • 8 cups chicken stock
  • 1/2lb smoked kielbasa, sliced in 1/4″ rounds
  • 1 bunch of mustard greens, rinsed, drained and shredded
  • 1/4 cup parsley, chopped
  • 1/4 cup cilantro, chopped
  • 1 tablespoon lemon juice
  • salt and pepper


Preheat the oven to 450° and line a baking sheet with parchment or a Silpat. In a large bowl, toss the cauliflower florets with a olive oil, cumin, paprika, and salt and pepper and spread them out in a single even layer on the baking sheet. Place the pan in the oven and roast the cauliflower for a good 30-40 minutes. It’ll be tender and starting to char on the outside. Remove the pan from the oven and set aside.

In a Dutch oven or your soup pot of choice, heat the olive oil on medium high heat. Sauté the onion until it starts to brown. It’ll be soft and translucent at this point. Add the garlic and red chile flake. Stir constantly for about 30 seconds to allow the garlic to get fragrant and brown but not burn. Burned garlic is the worst. Pour in the chicken stock and cauliflower and bring everything to a boil. Reduce the heat to a simmer and let the mixture cook for about an hour. The cauliflower will be really tender. Remove from the heat and puree either in a regular blender or in the pot with an immersion one.

Pour the soup back to the pot if you removed it and put it on low heat. Add the sausage and cook for 10 minutes. Add the shredded mustard greens and parsley and cook for another 10 minutes. Stir in the cilantro and lemon juice. Taste for additional salt, pepper, and lemon.

Whatever you don’t eat the day of will thicken up considerably when you eat it the next day. It’s almost a glorious stew.


Porter Braised Chicken Thighs

A lot Some of the things I eat won’t win any style points. There are all of these studies and diets about eating the colors of the rainbow. What about brown braised chicken in a brown sauce with mostly brown vegetables? Brown food = comfort food. Fact. I sometimes consider whether I should post some of these less-attractive things, but c’mon. This is real life.

Braising isn’t something I do often, at least not consciously. I don’t really think a whole lot about cooking methods in general [unless it’s sous-vide or deep frying, then pass]. End results only. Cooking with beer is also something I don’t do very often, and the idea of cooking with a porter of all things is particularly intriguing. Dark beers are generally my favorite beers. The lower the IBUs the better. Braising some skin-on thighs and some root vegetables seemed like a logical choice to create a pot of comfort. The sauce that is created at the end is slightly sweet on top of already sweet root vegetables. I highly suggest taking the time to get a crusty sear on the thighs. No, seriously, do it. Mine turned out a little less so, and then turned soft after all the braising. The texture turned out only ok. I couldn’t help but wonder just how much better the chicken would have been. They are thighs so they can take the abuse of longer cooking times that breasts can’t. Also, this was one of the first times I’ve cooked with a celery root. I’m a fan. You can give me just about any root vegetable and I’ll be happy.

The full-size recipe is below. I reduced it by about half when I made it because we’re only two people and I couldn’t possibly fit all those thighs in the Dutch oven without making batches. Who has time for that? Not me.

It is definitely a solid and comforting recipe, but the odds of me making it again are probably slim. I would rather roast the root vegetables until they’re crispy on the outside and tender on the inside, then pan sear the thighs and call it a day. It probably would have been prettier, too. Assuming I cared about such things.

porter braised chicken

Inspiration: Williams-Sonoma


  • Four skin-on bone-in chicken thighs
  • 2 tablespoons vegetable oil
  • 7 tablespoons butter, room temp and separated into 2 + 5 tablespoons
  • 1 large yellow onion, rough chop
  • 2 carrots, chopped
  • 2 red potatoes, chopped
  • 1 celery root, peeled and chopped
  • 2 bottles of porter
  • 2 cups of chicken broth
  • 2 tablespoons brown sugar, packed
  • 2 tablespoons dijon mustard
  • 2 teaspoons tomato paste
  • 1 teaspoon dried thyme
  • 1/3 cup all-purpose flour
  • salt and pepper


Pat the chicken dry. Even if it seems dry already, do it again. This has been huge to my cooking successes lately. Season liberally with salt and pepper. In a large Dutch oven, heat the oil on medium high heat. Let the oil get really hot. Sear the chicken on all sides. Work in batches. Crowding the pan does nothing for a good sear. When they’re brown, remove the chicken to a paper towel lined plate/pan to rest.

Drain the rendered fat from the pan and add two tablespoons of butter. Once it’s melted, add the chopped onion. Sauté for several minutes until the color is glossy and golden. It’ll take at least 5-7 minutes. Add the remaining vegetables, porter, chicken broth, sugar, mustard, tomato paste, and thyme. Stir until everything is well combined. Make sure to scrape up some of the goodies from the bottom of the pan that have collected from the chicken and the onions.

Nestle the chicken thighs into the pot. Try to submerge them as much as possible. Bring the liquid to a simmer. Cover the pot and allow the mixture to simmer for about 30 minutes. When you’re approaching the 30 minute mark, mash together the remaining five tablespoons of butter with the flour in a large bowl that can hold at least 3 cups of liquid. The butter/flour mixture should look like a thick paste. Add two cups of the braising liquid to the paste and whisk to combine. Add this mixture back to the pot. Stir well and simmer for another 10 minutes. Taste the braising liquid for additional salt and pepper before serving.