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Vegan Shepherd's Pie — When You Need Something Between You and Whatever's Coming

Memorial Day is coming. I've been thinking about my father, which happens every May with the reliability of the lilacs blooming along the fence. Edward Bergstrom, World War II, the Battle of the Bulge, seventy-three years old when his heart stopped on a Tuesday in 1995. He never talked about the war. I never talk about mine. The silence is inherited, like the farmhouse, like the sugar maples, like the particular way Bergstrom men clear their throats when they're feeling something they'd rather not name.

I made New England clam chowder. Not the Manhattan kind — that's tomato soup with identity issues. Real chowder: clams, potatoes, onions, cream, salt pork. Thick enough to hold a spoon upright, which is the only test that matters. Helen says I make chowder like I'm fortifying against a siege. She's not wrong. Chowder is a defensive food. It's what you make when the world is uncertain and you want something between you and whatever's coming.

David called Wednesday. He's been promoted at the Agency — something to do with budget oversight, the kind of work that makes the state function and puts everyone to sleep at dinner parties. David doesn't mind. He's a Bergstrom. We don't need applause. We need the thing to work. Karen is well. The kids are well. Teddy is finishing second grade and reading above his level, which David mentioned with the specific casualness of a father who is very proud and has been told not to brag.

I walked to the cemetery on Saturday. Stood at my parents' graves. Left a jar of syrup on Edward's stone, as I do every Memorial Day and every April 17th. The ritual makes no sense and I have no intention of explaining it and I will keep doing it until I can't walk to the cemetery anymore, at which point David will do it, because David understands without being told, which is the most Bergstrom quality a person can have.

The lilacs are in full bloom. Purple, fragrant, ridiculous in their generosity. Helen cuts them and puts them in every room, and the farmhouse smells like May, like memory, like the particular sweetness of a thing that only lasts two weeks and knows it and blooms anyway. The chowder is on the stove. The lilacs are in the vase. The dead are remembered. The living eat.

Helen pointed out, not unkindly, that clam chowder is harder to share — that not everyone keeps salt pork on hand, and that some people we know have stopped eating meat entirely without making an announcement about it, which I respect. So here is the other thing I make when the calendar turns heavy and I need a dish with weight to it: Vegan Shepherd’s Pie. Same principle as the chowder, different materials. Layers of lentils and root vegetables under a thick cap of mashed potato, built to hold together, built to last. The dead are remembered. The living eat. This feeds them well.

Vegan Shepherd’s Pie

Prep Time: 25 minutes | Cook Time: 45 minutes | Total Time: 1 hour 10 minutes | Servings: 6

Ingredients

  • 2 tablespoons olive oil
  • 1 large yellow onion, diced
  • 3 cloves garlic, minced
  • 3 medium carrots, peeled and diced
  • 2 stalks celery, diced
  • 1 cup cremini mushrooms, roughly chopped
  • 1 1/2 cups green or brown lentils, rinsed
  • 2 1/2 cups vegetable broth
  • 1 cup frozen peas
  • 2 tablespoons tomato paste
  • 1 tablespoon Worcestershire sauce (vegan)
  • 1 teaspoon smoked paprika
  • 1/2 teaspoon dried thyme
  • Salt and black pepper to taste
  • For the topping:
  • 2 pounds Yukon Gold potatoes, peeled and cubed
  • 3 tablespoons vegan butter
  • 1/2 cup unsweetened oat milk or plant-based milk
  • Salt and white pepper to taste

Instructions

  1. Cook the potatoes. Place cubed potatoes in a large pot, cover with cold salted water, and bring to a boil. Cook 15–18 minutes until completely tender when pierced with a fork. Drain and return to pot.
  2. Mash the topping. Add vegan butter and oat milk to the potatoes. Mash until smooth and creamy. Season with salt and white pepper. Set aside.
  3. Build the filling. Heat olive oil in a large oven-safe skillet or Dutch oven over medium heat. Add onion and cook 4–5 minutes until softened. Add garlic, carrots, and celery and cook another 5 minutes, stirring occasionally.
  4. Add mushrooms and paste. Stir in mushrooms and cook 3 minutes until they release their liquid. Add tomato paste and cook 1 minute, stirring to coat the vegetables.
  5. Simmer the lentils. Add rinsed lentils, vegetable broth, Worcestershire sauce, smoked paprika, and thyme. Bring to a boil, then reduce heat to medium-low. Simmer uncovered 20–22 minutes, until lentils are tender and most of the liquid is absorbed. Stir in frozen peas. Season with salt and pepper.
  6. Assemble and bake. Preheat oven to 400°F. Spread mashed potatoes evenly over the lentil filling in the skillet. Use a fork to score the surface. Bake 20–25 minutes until the potato topping is lightly golden at the edges.
  7. Rest before serving. Let stand 5 minutes before scooping. Serve directly from the pan.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 420 | Protein: 18g | Fat: 9g | Carbs: 68g | Fiber: 14g | Sodium: 540mg

Walter Bergstrom
About the cook who shared this
Walter Bergstrom
Week 113 of Walter’s 30-year story · Burlington, Vermont
Walt is a seventy-three-year-old retired high school history teacher from Burlington, Vermont — a Vietnam veteran, a widower, and a grandfather of five who cooks New England comfort food in the same kitchen where his wife Margaret made bread every Saturday for forty years. He lost Margaret to a stroke in 2021, and now he bakes her bread himself, not because he's good at it but because the smell fills the house and for an hour she's still there.

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