Goodbye, Shepherd's Pie!

I hate shepherd's pie. I have always hated shepherd's pie. It's like the radio love songs say, “I've loved you forever. I loved you before I met you. I loved you before the beginning of time.” Just replace “loved” with “hated” and “you” with “shepherd's pie”. These pop music sentiments may seem impossible - outrageous hyperbole inspired by too many nights alone with too much to drink - but in the case of my aversion to shepherd's pie, I suspect there may be an actual genetic predisposition. They say that human beings crave sugar, salt, and fat because they have been scarce for much of our evolutionary history. Thus, in order to ensure that we eat them at every opportunity, our taste buds tell us that things like Ben & Jerry's, cheesecake, and chocolate covered pretzels are delicious. My forebears lived primarily in the British Isles, where shepherd's pie (at least the meat and potatoes part) was so abundant that my body weight is probably 75% water and 25% shepherd's pie. No wonder my taste buds tell me not to eat it. Given my genetic history, eating shepherd's pie in this lifetime would be like eating another turkey dinner the day after Thanksgiving.

Various people have tried to convince me that I should like shepherd's pie. Do you like ground beef? Yes. Do you like potatoes? Yes. Do you like corn? Yes. So what is there not to like? They're all things you eat. I like ground beef in hamburgers. I like potatoes as french fries. And I like corn on the cob. That doesn't mean that if you mix them all together I will like it. Give it a chance. Don't say you don't like it before you've even tried it. Of course you're going to hate it if you expect to hate it.

I wanted to give this beast a fair chance. I thought that if I scraped off one of the layers, the remaining two might taste better. Unfortunately, meat and potatoes taste like shepherd's pie without the corn. Meat and corn taste like shepherd's pie without the potatoes. And corn and potatoes taste like shepherd's pie without the meat. Trying to solve the problem of shepherd's pie with meat, potatoes, and corn does not work. As Einstein warned, “No problem can be solved from the same level of consciousness that created it.” The solution to shepherd's pie is not a little more meat, a little less corn, or a layer of ketchup. The solution might be shrimp, mushrooms, and tomatoes in a curry coconut milk sauce over pasta. The solution might be a salad of spinach leaves, walnuts, bits of apple, and dried cranberries.

The meat, corn, and potatoes all begged me to give their dish another chance. What if we make it with fresh corn instead of canned? We'll serve it with a “luna llena” stout from Beer Factory. It's delicious with a little bit of grated cheese sprinkled on top. Have you tried eating it with a spoon instead of a fork? What if you only had to eat it once a week? And what if you only had to eat half as much? And what if you ate it under a tent with fried dough for dessert? It would be like a carnival! You could wear a costume, whatever kind of costume you want. And we'll pay you to do all of this. How much do you want? We just want you to be happy and tell everyone how much you love shepherd's pie!

No, no, no! Don't you get it? I hate shepherd's pie. Call it whatever you want. Dress it up however you like. Tell me why I should like it, why I need to like it, why even if I don't like it that's actually a good thing because it will make me a stronger person. Give me less to make it more palatable and try to wash it down with beer and cash. It's still shepherd's pie. And I'm not eating another bite. I am old enough to know how to feed myself. I quit shepherd's pie.

Also, shepherd's pie = my job.