k. rang me last week while I was cooking dinner. I told her I was making shepherd's pie. She disputed that this could be true since I was making it from beef mince and not from the lovely flaky leftovers of a lamb roast. k. said I needed to call if beefherd's pie. We agreed this was better than my suggestion of stockman's pie, which sounded too much like some crappy pie from any of a number of crappy pie makers.
Though let me pause here, dear reader, to say that among the many happy memories of my youth is that of coming to the end of a long hot day spent at the beach being sandblasted and sunburnt and heading to the corner deli for a pie. QEII, for it was often she who was my companion, and I would sit outside in the pink sunset light, our backs resting against the wall of the deli while people passed in and out through the plastic strips hanging in the door, eating a Four 'n' Twenty pie, drinking a Coke and following it up with a peppermint truffle. Afterwards QEII would generally produce another two peppermint truffles which she'd stolen while the deli owner was getting our pies. I was scandalised but I'd eat one of the truffles anyway.
Here's my point: I'm going to stick with calling it a shepherd's pie.