Let’s Talk About Why Vegetarian Shepherd’s Pie is a Winner

Alright, so pull up a chair because this recipe for Vegetarian Shepherd’s Pie actually has a fair bit of history in my house—okay, not that old but it’s definitely become the one I make when it’s cold out or, honestly, when I can’t figure out what to do with a half-bag of carrots lurking in the fridge. I think the first time I made it was after totally butchering the meaty version and realizing—wait, plant-based can be amazing if you stop trying to copy beef perfectly. Also, I always end up with way too many potatoes at the end of the week and this, my friend, is potato paradise.

Side note: One time my friend Callum came over just as I pulled this out of the oven and he said it looked like a “giant savory cake”. (Still undecided if that’s good or not. But he ate two helpings, sooo…)

Why You’ll Love This—And Actually Want to Make It Again

I make this when the weather goes grey and the only thing that sounds remotely appealing is something warm and a bit nostalgic. My partner goes absolutely bonkers for the mashed potatoes (there’s always a minor spat about who gets the last crusty bit on top). And you know what, it’s weirdly relaxing to assemble—you get to layer stuff like you’re building a cozy edible blanket. There’s something *so* satisfying about smoothing out mashed potatoes and feeling like you’ve got life somewhat together, even when your counters look like a tornado rolled through.

Also, when you do it right (which, confession, took me three tries), that savory filling and fluffy, potatoey top—ah, magic. And for all those times you mess up and the mash is slightly lumpy? Nobody’s going to notice. Seriously. It’s topped with cheese anyway, which covers a multitude of sins.

What You’ll Need—And What I Sometimes Sub In

1.5kg potatoes (any variety, but Yukon Golds are lush; I’ve used cheap old russets before, it’s fine)
2 tbsp butter or vegan margarine
1/4 cup milk or unsweetened plant milk (when I’m out of dairy, oat milk works well—my gran swears by the full-fat stuff, but I go with whatever’s in the fridge)
Olive oil—a glug
1 onion, diced
2 cloves garlic, crushed (sometimes 3 if I’m feeling bold)
3 large carrots, diced
2 stalks celery, diced
3/4 cup frozen peas (I’ve tried fresh. Not worth it, honestly.)
1 zucchini, chopped pretty small
2 cups mushrooms (ANY kind; white ones are fine, portobello are fancier)
1 tin (14oz/400g) lentils, drained (brown or green; I sometimes use kidney beans in a pinch but it’s not the same)
2 tbsp tomato paste
1 tbsp soy sauce or tamari
1 cup veggie stock (cube, powder, or the boxed kind, whatever)
1 tsp thyme (dried or fresh, either works)
Black pepper and salt to taste
Optional but so good: a handful of grated cheddar for on top (vegan cheese works, but goes weird if you broil it too long—just watch it)

How To Actually Make It—The Way I Do It (Mess Included)

Start the spuds: Peel your potatoes (or don’t, if you’re in a mood for rustic), chop them, then shove ’em in a pot of salted water. Bring to a boil and as soon as they’re soft—like, you can poke ’em with a fork and they want to fall apart—drain.
Mash town: In the same pot (because who wants to wash another bowl?), add butter and milk. Mash it up til it’s as creamy or as lumpy as you like. Salt and pepper. Taste. Taste again. You earned it.
Veggie business: Heat a big pan with olive oil. Chuck in onions, garlic; let ’em sizzle until soft-ish. Then toss in carrots, celery, zucchini, mushrooms. Cook until everything starts to look a bit golden and, let’s be honest, your kitchen smells glorious. Don’t worry if the pan seems crowded—these veg shrink like a wool jumper in a hot wash.
Add tomato paste, soy sauce, thyme. Stir for a minute, let it all mingle. Then add lentils, veggie stock, peas. Bring to a simmer, then lower and let it bubble for 8-10 minutes. It should thicken up—if it’s too runny, let it go a bit longer. If too thick, splash in a bit of stock or water. This is where I usually sneak a taste and add more pepper.
Crank the oven to 200°C (or about 400°F).
Assembly time: Pour the veggie mix into a big baking dish (13x9in or so, but honestly, any casserole pan will do). Dollop the mash on top in big blobby scoops, then smooth it so it mostly covers everything—don’t stress if there’s a gap or two, those get extra crispy. Sprinkle cheese on if you like.
Bake for about 25 minutes. If you want extra crunch, broil for 2–3 mins at the end (but keep an eagle eye—it can go from lovely to charcoal in seconds, trust me, ask my smoke detector).
Let it sit for 10 minutes before digging in. It’ll help the filling set and, not to be dramatic, might save your tongue from certain doom.

Notes From Battle—A Few Discovered the Hard Way

Actually, I find it works better if you season the mashed potatoes generously from the start—don’t try to fix it later.
Don’t skip resting—it really does help, as impatient as I am. Otherwise, you’ll be chasing filling around your plate like a cat with a laser pointer.
Mushrooms: as much as I love button mushrooms, sometimes I use leftover roasted veggies from the night before (roast pumpkin is great)—just toss ’em in.

If You Like to Experiment—What Has and Hasn’t Worked

Once, I tried topping with sweet potatoes instead—incredible (bit of brown sugar in the mash makes it pop!)
I threw in some chili flakes once for a kick, and my family looked at me like I’d set the Ottoman Empire on fire—but I liked it.
Swapping out lentils for tinned chickpeas gave a weird texture; wouldn’t recommend, but you know, maybe you’ll love it?

Equipment—And What to Do if You’re Missing Stuff

A deep casserole dish is ideal, but last week I used a random roasting tin lined with foil because all my others were in the sink (don’t judge). Potato masher is handy, but a sturdy fork gets the job done. If you don’t have an oven, I’ve heard you can use a covered skillet on the stovetop until it’s piping hot and then try sticking it under the broiler/grill for a bit. No guarantees, though!

Storing Leftovers—If There Are Any

This keeps surprisingly well in the fridge for up to 3 days, maybe 4 if your fridge is as icy as mine gets. But honestly, in my house it never lasts more than a day! I think it tastes better the next day—maybe I’m imagining it? Reheats wonderfully in the microwave—just cover it so the potatoes don’t dry out. Oh—and don’t freeze it if you can help it, mashed potatoes can get a bit weird and crumbly.

How We Like to Serve It at My Place

I almost always serve this with a mountain of steamed greens (broccoli’s my go-to, just cos I can never kill it, ha). Sometimes, on a Sunday, we have it with mushy peas and a splash of brown sauce, “proper” northern style. My younger cousin likes ketchup with it—can’t convince him otherwise. (To each their own…)

Lessons Learned—Pro Tips I Didn’t Find in Cookbooks

I once tried rushing the mashing step. Not worth it; lumpy potatoes made my grandmother’s eye twitch.
If you use store-bought stock, taste it before salting—one time I went ham with seasoning and paid for it. Still edible, just salty enough to summon rainclouds.
And don’t layer the mash too thin! It needs a good, hearty layer for best results.

FAQ—Stuff People Actually Ask Me

Can I use canned lentils instead of cooking them?
Sure can! Life’s too short sometimes. Just drain and rinse them first though or you’ll end up with weird beany mush (speaking as someone who forgot once… oops).

What if I hate mushrooms?
Honestly, skip ’em or swap for more zucchini or even eggplant. It’ll change the flavor but still be lush. Actually, one mate of mine uses chopped walnuts for crunch instead!

Is this freezer friendly?
Sort of… If you have to, go for it, but on second thought, thawed mashed potatoes aren’t really at their peak. But it’s not the end of the world.

Can I make this vegan?
You bet. Use vegan butter and cheese, and plant milk. Easy as pie—ha, see what I did there?

One Last Rabbit Hole, Just For Fun

While prepping this pie I often throw on a playlist—something like the BBC Sounds kitchen playlist or a random food podcast. Gets me in the zone. Oh, and if you want to geek out over potato varieties, Love Food Hate Waste is a cracking resource for what to do with leftovers (who knew?).

Anyway, if you make this, do let me know how it turns out—or if you just end up with flour on the dog, which has happened here more than once. Good luck, mate!

Vegetarian Shepherd’s Pie: My Go-To Cozy Comfort Dinner