Showing posts with label lamb. Show all posts
Showing posts with label lamb. Show all posts

Sunday, 2 February 2014

Suggestibly Yours - Baked Greek Lamb & Orzo Stew

As I'm sure my nearest and dearest, and especially Andy, would tell you, I am incredibly suggestible. Dangerously, flittingly, skittishly so.  And not just about the little things, like which dress to buy or what colour to paint my nails - although definitely about those things too - but sometimes, often, other stuff too.  I'm genuinely embarrassed about just how many of the big decisions in my life have come about because somebody just happens to mention something casually in passing.  I'm not complaining, you understand - my life would be much worse if a friend hadn't spoken to me on the phone one day late in 2005 and mentioned "you should think about going backpacking" - but, at the other end of the scale, my whole misguided attempt at a corporate life started at the moment someone said to me while I was at university "I think you'd be good in Human Resources".  I don't know if it makes a difference that I like and respect the first person; I neither liked nor respected the second, and I suspect it says more about me that I listened to both of them, but the fact of the matter is, other people have affected my life path more than they will ever realise, or I will ever acknowledge.

And obviously, obviously, the same goes for food, too.  Whether that suggestion comes from a non-connected place (when I read A Fine Balance a few months back I cooked my way through the India of my memory as I sobbed my way through that book), or something more tangible like a new cookbook (see my recent obsession with Jerusalem as an example), it's to my cookbooks and to my kitchen I will head, until circumstances and funds let Andy and I head off for more adventures.  So when somebody mentioned to me that there was a Greek Food Festival in Wellington this weekend, there was two places I was heading.  One was to the festival on Hania Street to stuff myself full of Bifteka and Dolmades, the other was to my bookcase.

I've cooked this before, but using a larger leg of lamb which falls apart as it slowly bakes in the tomatoes and gentle spices, reminiscent of so many sunny days.  This time, though, cooking for just the two of us, I used lamb chops, slow cooking them still, and then breaking them up through the pasta at the end.  The orzo is beautifully silky, and makes a real point of difference from rice.  Served with sharp, salty feta crumbled over, this is Mediterranean comfort food and might, just might, stave off the old backpacker's itchy feet for a while.



Baked Greek Lamb & Orzo Stew
Adapted from Tessa Kiros, Food From Many Greek Kitchens

4 large lamb chops

1 lemon
4 tablespoons olive oil
0.5 teaspoon paprika
2 garlic cloves, finely chopped
4 spring onions, roughly chopped
1 tin crushed tomatoes
1 teaspoon dried oregano
1 cinnamon stick
Salt and pepper
200g orzo
Feta, to serve.

Preheat your oven to 180C.  Squeeze the juice from the lemon, half the oil, paprika and garlic over the lamb and rub it in well, making sure it's all covered.

In a large, ovenproof pan, pour in rest of the oil, followedd by the lamb.  Add the spring onions, tomatoes, oregano and cinnamon, and sprinkle over some salt.  Put in the oven for 30 minutes.

Add 250ml of hot water (if you had any lamb stock, that would be a good substitution) and cook for an hour.

While this is cooking, bring a large pan of salted water to the boil and cook the pasta according to the packet instructions until it is al dente.  Drain well.

When the hour is up on the lamb, stir the pasta through the sauce with 375ml hot water.  Return to the oven for another 10 minutes, until the pasta is completely reheated and has absorbed most of the sauce.  Using a fork, remove any bones that were in the chops, and gently shred the meat into large chunks.

Serve, with ground pepper and crumbled feta over the top.

Serves 4


Tuesday, 28 January 2014

A Random Recipe: Beef & Lamb Meatballs with Broadbeans & Lemon

I made these with a hangover.  It's the one problem with food planning, I find.  Unpredicted hangovers.  At the start of last week I was all, Monday: Pasta Bianco.  Tuesday: Pasta Bianco (oh yeah, I totally give in to my obsessions).  Wednesday: Out for a friend's birthday.  Thursday:  Beef & Lamb Meatballs with Broadbeans & Lemon.

In fact, it should have read blah...obsessive pasta...blah.  Wednesday:  Out for a friend's birthday.  Plus pre-meal drinks.  Plus after-meal drinks.  Plus staying out till 12.30am on a weeknight (you crazy cat).  Thursday:  YOU WILL WANT TO SLAM YOUR HEAD IN THE DOOR TO TAKE AWAY THE PAIN OF A HANGOVER. WHY IS EVERYONE SHOUTING?

But - and here's the really fun bit - I'd already taken the minced beef out of the freezer, meaning I had to use it that night, or lose it forever.  And as much as the thought of having to stand upright for as long as it took to make these was pure pain, so was the thought of not eating at all that night - remember, feed a hangover - or throwing good money after bad and not using up the beef.

So.  I made these, hungover and no doubt somewhat delirious.  They took a smidge longer than I daresay they would have done if I were in the prime of health, and they had a few more steps than were ideal in my delicate state but, still easy enough to do and, as always with Ottolenghi, his spices were bright and unusual enough for me to sit up and take notice.  And, please somebody pass me a medal, I even double-podded broad beans.  Heroic, undoubtedly, but also very worth it to get the contrast between the two kinds of beans.  It fed my hangover perfectly - the meatballs were substantial enough that it was just the right level of dense protein hit needed for a hangover, and the broad beans and lemon nudged any vitamin buttons I felt I was missing that day.

This is my entry into this month's Random Recipe challenge, hosted by Dom at Belleau Kitchen.  It came from my Christmas present from my lovely and generous inlaws, a book I've mentioned my love of already, Ottolenghi's Jerusalem.  I've also noticed it's my second Ottolenghi meatball recipe, but that's the joy of a truly random recipe.  Will it replace those lost brain cells?  No.  Will I make it again?  For sure.  Will I get hungover on a weekday again?  Who am I kidding?  Luckily I've now got some of these in the freezer for next time.



Beef & Lamb Meatballs with Broadbeans and Lemon
Adapted from Ottolenghi, Jerusalem

For the meatballs:
300g minced beef
150g minced lamb
1 onion, finely chopped
120g breadcrumbs
Handful each fresh parsley, coriander, mint, dill, chopped
2 cloves garlic, crushed
1 tablespoon baharat spice mix (shop bought is fine; I used a bargain buy I'd got a few months ago called 'Persian Spice Mix' which had mostly the same ingredients in - otherwise, look at those ingredients and DIY)
1 tablespoon ground cumin
2 teaspoons capers, chopped
1 egg, beaten

For the sauce:
4.5 tablespoons olive oil
350g broad beans, fresh or frozen
4 thyme sprigs
6 cloves garlic, sliced
8 spring onions, cut into 2cm slices
2.5 tablespoons lemon juice
500ml chicken stock
salt and pepper

For the meatballs, put all the ingredients in a large bowl and mix until thoroughly combined.  Form into 20 balls, each about the size of a ping pong ball.  This is easier if you divide the mix in half, and then into half again, and aim to get five balls out of each section.

In a pan large enough to later take all the meatballs, heat 1 tablespoon of the oil.  In two batches, fry the meatballs so they are browned on the outside, a few minutes for each batch.  Remove from the pan.

While they are cooking, blanch the broad beans in boiling salted water for 2 minutes.  Drain and let them sit under the cold tap for a minute, to cool them down.  Double pod about half of them, by pressing gently on each one until the skin splits and removing the bright green beans from inside.  Discard the empty skins.

In the meatball pan, heat the remaining oil.  Add the thyme, garlic, spring onions and fry gently, stirring all the time, for a few minutes.  Add the unshelled broad beans, 1.5 tablespoons of lemon juice, and just enough stock to cover the beans.  Cover the pan with either a lid or with a double thickness of tinfoil, and cook gently for 10 minutes.  Return the meatballs to the pan, stir gently, then add the remaining stock.  Cover the pan again and cook for 25 minutes, when the meatballs should be hot all the way through.

Just before serving, add the remaining lemon juice and shelled broad beans.  Serve immediately.

Serves 4



Thursday, 9 May 2013

Indian Summer

Eating out at great restaurants is, to my mind, one of the best value ways to pass the time in New Zealand.  I don't necessarily mean it's cheap, mind you; just that, comparatively speaking, restaurants that are truly world class are more affordable than elsewhere in the world.  One of my absolutely favourite restaurants, not only in Wellington, not only in New Zealand, but anywhere, is the legendary Logan Brown.  We have been lucky enough to go a few times now and, while it is definitely a special occasion date for us, we've always been welcomed in a charming, relaxed way that speaks volumes about the refreshing lack of snobbery in this country.  One tip I got before I went was to order the Paua Ravioli, if it was on the menu, and it was so amazing I still dream about it now.  Light, citrussy, buttery - perfection.  I'm never going to attempt to recreate it, as it would surely end in disappointment.

One of the founders of Logan Brown, Al Brown, has just left Wellington (he lived in the same bay as us - it's magnetic, this place) for Auckland, but his legacy lives on - in this house, at least - through his recipes that he writes for Cuisine magazine.  During the summer, I cooked a barbecue regularly for a local pub, and was always on the lookout for interesting food that I could serve up, and when I saw this recipe for an Indian Burger, courtesy of Mr Brown, I knew it sounded like a winner.

He recommends serving it with an aubergine chutney - which really, really, works - but the second time I made these, I had no chutney, no raita, and so made a simple ratatouille.  Confusing my culinary cultures, I know, but think about the ingredients and there really are no clashes at all.  Just garlicky, really tasty goodness.

We are sadly past barbecue season here in Wellington, so I offer this up to those of you lucky enough to be facing summer in the northern hemisphere.  Wish I was there.



Indian Lamb Burger
Adapted from Al Brown, Stoked, via Cuisine Magazine

1kg minced lamb
1 egg
1 onion, finely chopped
2 cloves garlic, finely chopped (I use the microplane fine grater)
1 cm root ginger, peeled and finely chopped or grated
1 teaspoon ground turmeric
2 teaspoons ground cumin
2 teaspoons ground coriander
2 teaspoons garam masala
pinch chilli powder
salt and pepper
oil

Mix all the ingredients very thoroughly in a large bowl, until it starts to come together.  Divide into six equal portions.

To make the burgers, take each portion and flatten it slightly - don't overwork it or the burger will be tough.  Make a slight indentation in the middle of each burger - this will rise up as they cook and ensure even cooking.

Put in the fridge to set for at least an hour.

To cook, preheat a barbecue or cast iron griddle pan to searing hot.  Brush the burgers lightly with oil and then cook until done - obviously this depends on how thick your burgers are, but about 5 minutes per side should do it.

Ratatouille

2 onions
2 cloves garlic, crushed
1 aubergine
2 courgettes
1 capsicum
4 large tomatoes
6 tablespoons olive oil
1 teaspoon coriander seeds
Flat-leaf parsley

Peel the onion and cut it into half moons.  Slice the courgettes.  Quarter the aubergine lengthways then cut into slices.

In a large, heavy pot on a medium heat, cook the onions until soft but not brown.  Add the aubergines, courgettes, garlic and capsicum.  Stir for a few minutes.  Add the tomatoes and give another good stir.

Turn the heat down, put a lid on, and cook gently for about 30-40 minutes, stirring occasionally to make sure that the bottom doesn't stick.

Add the coriander, salt and pepper to taste, and stir in a handful of parsley.

This keeps really well in the fridge and is an incredibly useful bowl to have hanging round, if only for eating on toast for breakfast.

Serves 6

Monday, 8 April 2013

Lamb Rogan Josh

My oven burns hotter than the hob of hell, and is definitely one of the things I won't miss about moving (what? I haven't bored you enough with our housing woes? We STILL haven't found anywhere to move to). After numerous cakes ruined, dinners burned, and tearful toddler-style tantrums, I eventually invested in an oven thermometer.  We used this to figure out that our oven - and this is no exaggeration - heats at 50 degrees C over what it should.  So to cook something at 200, we need to put it on 150, use the bottom shelf, and even then we still can't relax.  It was only recently that I figured out I should have used all of our two years here to be making awesome pizza, which needs a scorching hot oven, but I'm not that smart and keep torturing myself with slow-cooked food.

Including our lamb on Easter Sunday.  "I will do slow-cooked shoulder!" said I.  I couldn't find shoulder, so bought a leg.  "I will do slow-cooked leg!" said I, with visions of melty, garlic-and-rosemary-studded glistening, succulent meat.  But no, our oven had other ideas, ignoring the lowest setting I'd put it on, and cremating the lamb to within an inch of its poor young life.  Even with good sides - the creamed spinach was delicious ("the best you've ever made" said Andy between mouthfuls) it still made me sad, and feeling like I needed to perform a serious rescue mission.  And I knew exactly the woman to bring along with me on this mission.  Madhur Jaffrey.

This curry is a way of transforming even the most dry leftover lamb.  It has such an affinity with warming Indian spices - in fact, most of the meat curries I ate in India were either sheep or goat - the generic 'mutton' being much used and, in fact, referring to both these animals, so who knows?  Curry roulette.  It infuses the meat with spiced, perky liquid and is such a triumph in itself that you forget all previous disasters.



Lamb Rogan Josh
Adapted from Madhur Jaffrey, Indian Cooking

3cm chunk fresh ginger, peeled
4 cloves garlic, peeled
1 cup water
2 tablespoons vegetable oil
450g leftover lamb, cut into chunks, or fresh lamb shoulder, cut into chunks.
5 cardamom pods
1 bay leaf
3 cloves
5 peppercorns
1 stick cinnamon
1 onion, peeled and finely chopped
0.5 teaspoons ground coriander
1 teaspoon ground cumin
2 teaspoons paprika
0.5 teaspoons cayenne pepper
1 teaspoon salt
3 tablespoons plain yoghurt
0.25 teaspoons garam masala
ground black pepper

Put the ginger, garlic and 2 tablespoons of water in a food processor, and blitz until it forms a paste.  You might need to add more water to get it all to combine smoothly.

In a big, heavy-bottomed pan, heat the oil.  If you are using uncooked lamb, brown it in batches then set aside.  (If you are using leftover roasted meat, ignore this step).

Into this hot oil, put the cardamom, bay leaf, cloves, peppercorns and cinnamon.  Leave for a few seconds until it gets really aromatic and the cloves start to swell.  Add the onions and cook, stirring frequently, for about 5 minutes, until they start to get tinged with golden brown around the edges.

Add the ginger and garlic, cook for about a minute, then add the coriander, cumin, paprika, cayenne and salt.  Add the meat, and any juices that have run off it.  Gradually stir in the yoghurt until smooth, then cook, still stirring, for another 2 or 3 minutes.

Add the water, bring to a boil, then reduce to a low simmer, scraping all the tasty browned bits from the sides and bottom of the pan.  Cover, and cook for about 1 hour if you are using uncooked meat, and about 30 minutes if you are using pre-cooked meat.  Stir a few times, and add a bit more water if it looks like it will burn.

When it is tender, take off the lid, turn the heat up to medium, and stir through the garam masala and black pepper.

Serve with steamed basmati rice and a sense of redemption.

Serves 2, generously.