Recipe: Empanadas (my way and a FAIL)

Warning: The following is not going to be pretty. It happens. The point to keep in mind is that everything tasted super yummy, so please don't be distracted by the failure of an empanada crust.

Carry on.

Start with one pound of lean ground beef. Saute it up. Get it nice and crispy. Mario Batali insists that ground meet is supposed to be well done, and I believe him.



Chop up some red onions and green olives. Mine have pimentos.



Start mixing up your crust. I used my standard oil pastry recipe.

Two cups of flour.



1 1/2 tsp salt. Give a gentle stir.



1/2 cup vegetable oil...



combined with 5 tbsp ice water.



Add the liquids to the flour and salt and mix together until you get a nice ball of dough. Cover with a damp paper towel until you're ready to roll it out.



In the meantime, your meat should be all nice and cooked, so toss in your onions and olives.



I added a packet of taco seasoning and 2/3 cup of water as directed, and then let the mixture simmer.



Hello, again.



When the meat has finished cooking, you can add some shredded cheese to the mixture. I don't know that it's the technical thing to do. I do know that I like cheese.



So here's the bad news. Something funky happened to my pie dough. Maybe my kitchen was too warm. Maybe I mismeasured something. I don't know. Normally, it's beautiful and smooth and rolls out just fine. This was ... well, anything but.

I cried for a minute.

It was frustrating.

Somehow, I managed to get a few misshapen rounds out of the dough. It would do. I placed them on a baking sheet lined with parchment paper.



Place a heaping scoop of the meat mixture on each "round."



Then cover with a similar round and crimp the edges. Bake at 375 for 15 minutes.



I had one leftover premade pie crust in the fridge, so I decided to make use of it, in light of the great fail.

Just so you could get the idea of what it might look like for realsies.



While these babies baked, I chopped up some green onions for garnish.



Mmmm. Hot empanadas. Let's call them rustic, shall we?



Served with sour cream and a scatter of scallions.



And a side of peas. Yum.



Don't let the appearance fool you. The crust was light and flaky, and the filling was delicious.