Today we have a dish that Keith Floyd once called a Greek shepherd’s pie, and he’s right! Only this shepherd is a veggie... It’s Moussaka time. Aubergines are still at their best and cheapest this time of year, so give them a little Grecian comfort in the form of a potato bed and lentil blanket.
One of the most important stages of this recipe is allowing the dish to rest upon removal from the oven. I’m an impatient person at the best of times, but even I sit on my hands for those extra minutes. Because if there’s one thing I’ve learnt, it’s not to strike while the Moussaka’s hot.
This dish is a little timely to put together, but it’s not complicated. Besides, maybe you’ll enjoy losing yourself in the frying of aubergines, and the whisking of béchamel?
I like making my Moussaka with both potatoes and aubergine, because being at the bottom of the dish, the spuds give it a little structural integrity and soak everything up properly. The most important element, in my opinion, is the topping. It should be light and moussy and well-seasoned. We will not be skimping on that. You can make it with 2 eggs or 1 (2 will be poofier). Kefalotyri cheese has that lovely tangy sweetness but if you can’t find it (try Lidl or a TFC), Parmesan, Pecorino, Manchego or a Wensleydale would do the trick to be honest.
Vegetarian Moussaka
Olive oil
3 aubergines, sliced lengthways about 1cm thick
2 medium Cyprus potatoes, peeled and sliced into discs, about 1cm
2 onions, finely chopped
2-3 garlic cloves, minced
½ tsp ground cumin
½ tsp ground cinnamon
1 tsp paprika
A splash of wine (optional)
500g green/brown lentils, cooked (2 tins if you’re using tins)
1 tbsp dried oregano
1 tin of tomatoes
1 tbsp tomato purée
A handful of chopped parsley
For the béchamel
600ml milk
60g butter
60g flour (about 3 tbsp)
A grating of nutmeg
1-2 eggs
1/4 tsp white pepper
100g Kefalotyri or another hard cheese
Parboil the potatoes until just tender (about 11 minutes). Brush the aubergines with olive oil and fry them until golden in batches. Season with salt. Once cooked, I like to leave them in the oven dish I’m going to use for the moussaka so that they grease it for me.
For the lentil sauce, fry the chopped onion with a pinch of salt until golden (about 8 minutes), then add the garlic. Cook for 1 minute then add the tomato purée and the spices, bay leaf and oregano. Stir, and when it smells good, add the tin of tomatoes and a splash of wine if you're using it. Finally stir the cooked lentils through the sauce and sprinkle in the chopped fresh parsley. Season with salt and pepper.
To make the béchamel, warm the milk gently in a microwave or pan. Melt the butter, then add the flour and stir until the mixture bubbles and looks a little like lace. Whisk the warm milk through until everything thickens, then take off the heat. Whisk in the grated Kefalotyri, nutmeg, plenty of salt and white pepper. Allow the sauce to cool for 5 minutes, then whisk in the egg/s. It will make the béchamel poof like a soufflé in the oven and give the moussaka its signature burnished top. Turn the oven on to 200°c.
Stir a spoonful of béchamel into the lentil mix. Then layer up the moussaka. Remove the aubergines from your oven dish, then add the cooked potatoes in a single layer, and sprinkle with a little salt. Follow them with half of the aubergines, half the lentils and one more layer of aubergine and lentils. Finish with ALL of the béchamel on top. Bake for 45-50 minutes or until browned. After removing from the oven, allow it to cool for 20 minutes before serving. It will sink into itself and come together to a lovely eating temperature. Enjoy!
As a nation, Britain seems obsessed with reminiscing on food from times gone past. Perhaps we find comfort in culinary callbacks to childhood, which provide welcome distraction from the bleak reality that is 2022?
Norman’s (the Tuffnel Park cafe of which I’m a megafan), taps into such sentimentality with a menu of greasy-spoon classics. The café is holding a ‘residency’ at Seed Library, a swishy Shoreditch bar, with extremely low lighting and extremely chic interiors. What does a breakfast joint have in common with a hip cocktail bar, you ask? It’s a good question.
Me and my boyfriend Charles were lucky enough to be invited to go down and visit. The drinks, a coriander seed gimlet and a purple shiso martini, were really impressive. As a lover of the Norman’s menu I was ready to be in 7th Heaven, and the nuggets were sizeable and texturally spot-on. We did wonder why they came with some kind of plummy chilli sauce instead of the ketchup we would have preferred. A cod’s roe dip was creamy and rich and decidedly fruity from strong olive oil, and Frazzles were a perfect scooping tool. There was only really one disappointment: the cheese and onion toastie, which arrived well and truly under-Brevilled. Should have gone for the chip butty. Should always go for the chip butty.
Charles didn’t enjoy the food as much as me, preferring Norman’s café fare to their school dinner nostalgia - even wanting to swerve the smiley faces. Me personally, I will lap any fried, orange food up quite happily.
The prices are not crazy, in true Norman’s fashion (each item being £3-8). And that’s why we love them, and will forgive them a limp toastie, isn’t it?
See you in October!