I went for the vegetarian option with green lentils. I thought, 'oh it will be like making lasagne'.
Luckily, I thought I'd get a headstart and make it early to get it in the slow cooker before tackling the ever expanding Christmas To Do list. Thank goodness I did because it took me all ruddy day to make it. And I chose the recipe from an alleged 'easy' book which usually delivers on its promise. Unusually for me I had read the ingredient list and had everything, but I didn't read the instructions.
First: cook onions & garlic, add lentils, tomatoes & tasty stuff. Cook for ONE hour. Yep, failed to read this bit.
Second: slice & soak Aubergines (eggplant if any Northern Americans are reading) in salt for 3 minutes.
Third: peel potatoes & boil whole.
Fourth: chop mushrooms. skipped this stage as Tintin doesn't like them & I was bored by now.
Fifth: wash Aubergines, pat dry (harump) and fry the living daylights out of them.
Six: Are you still here?? Layer aubergines, lentil mix a couple of times.
Seven: slice potatoes on top. Oh what, they boiled into mush? Just wing it and pretend you can cut the moosh and attempt to get them on top.
I was soo p**d off by now, I was ready to pretend it was a casserole & serve it with rice. Sadly I had announced my intentions so had to soldier on.
Eight: melt mountain of butter with token smattering of flour.
Nine: Warm milk in yet another pan.
Ten: Add milk to butter melt. Forget to stir like crazy. Strain through sieve and start again. Stir like crazy.
Eleven: Realise this recipe doesn't put cheese in the sauce that I so adore. Its why I wanted to make it in the first place. Grate cheese and add it anyway.
Twelve: separate 2 Eggs. put whites aside to make peppermint creams with kids/husband to knock over side* (*delete as you see fit)
Thirteen: Still with me. Shhesh. I wasn't. At this stage I was getting seriously grumpy. Also Bini announces that she's poorly and starts being sick. Not in the kitchen I hasten to add. One less for dinner. Anyway, add the wretched eggs to the cooling sauce,
Fourteen: Pour the sauce on top of the moussaka and throw it in the oven in disgust.
Fifteen: Get husband to trudge through the snow to buy some garlic bread because I was fed up of cooking.
Sixteen: Go nuture ailing babe.
At this point for the first time in my ahem illustrious cooking career that I was hoping for negative reviews. I DO NOT WANT TO MAKE THIS AGAIN!
