Chop, Chop!

When I think of lamb chops, three things come to mind. First, of course, is how wonderful they taste and how pleased I was with this week's take on lamb chop marination. The juice of one lemon, a splash of balsamic vinegar, a clove of crushed garlic and about three sprigs of minced rosemary marinating for half a day lends wonderful ruffles and flourishes to one of my favorite meats. Grill just until it's deeply pink and you have a heavenly meal.

But there are a couple of other mental associations I make with lamb chops. One such was the wonderful '60s puppet, Lamb Chop who always made me laugh. I don't think there's a more talented ventriloquist than Shari Lewis was. Her routine with the Baby still cracks me up.

Perhaps my favorite memory involving a lamb chop happened back in the '70s and it's a favorite because it's dramatic but it has a happy ending.

One of the most wonderful people I have ever known was a lovely woman named Bobbie Davenport. Small and slender, but with a vavavoom sort of figure, she wore 4" heels and a mink coat when she was dressed to go out on the town but was just as comfortable in jodhpurs and boots, or a pair of baggy shorts and a bra on a hot summer day.

Although she was of my parents' generation, she insisted on being called "Bobbie," rather than "Mrs. Davenport." She was Butchie's wife and a wonderful woman in her own right. Not only did she produce four marvelous kids, she also rode horses, rescued all sorts of wildlife, raised many generations of kittens that all found good homes or never left, recorded books on tape for people with limited sight, volunteered in the library at her kids' school, cooked like a dream although she didn't really like to eat, and grew flowers and vegetables like a pro despite the depredations of several determined generations of woodchucks. She had an ongoing war with the woodchucks, muttering darkly when they raided her garden and threatening to get out her shotgun and send them to hell. Of course, she'd never have done such a thing - she loved all wildlife - so we always laughed out loud at her threats.

She was forthright, tough as nails, fair-minded and loving. She listened to Beethoven, Cole Porter and Petula Clark with equal appreciation, enjoyed a spirited political discussion and smoked a rhinestone-sprinkled pipe when she ran out of cigarettes. Bobbie opened her home to all kinds of strays and waifs, be they animal or human, including me on numerous occasions. If I didn't already have a terrific mother, I'd have been tempted to trade mine in for Bobbie. I loved her dearly for all these reasons and many more. I felt an immediate bond with her because we were both animal lovers and neither of us has ever fit into any pigeonhole.

One afternoon, Bobbie had used the oven and, when she was finished, cracked the door open to let the oven cool off. One of her many Burmese cats used that opportunity to climb inside where it was toasty warm to have a nap. That evening, lamb chops were on the menu; Bobbie closed the door and turned on the broiler in preparation, not knowing the cat was in the oven. Here's the happy ending - Bobbie heard the cat's wails, threw open the door and out flew the cat, only slightly singed in the fur department. The almost-broiled cat was fine and, ever after, we called her Lamb Chop.

When I grill lamb chops, all sorts of associations add to the pleasure of the meal. If Bobbie is up in heaven having a cocktail with Butchie, Shari Lewis and my parents at the end of a celestial day, I hope they are having marinated lamb chops for dinner.

Yikes, Stripes!

Now that spring has sprung

And the grass is riz,

I began to wonder where

The green garlic is.

Green garlic makes me wax poetic.

When I spotted some at our local farmer's market, I happily stuffed two bunches in my basket and brought them home in triumph, feeling like the original gatherer-woman.

It was marinated for a few hours in an equal mixture of red wine vinegar and olive oil that was flavored with a little salt and pepper, along with a lamb London broil that absorbed some of that great garlic flavor. Briefly grilled indoors (it was cold again and windy outside - spring is so fickle!), it relaxed and donned stripes. Still a little crunchy, it was mild and not at all hot as garlic is wont to be later in the season. Inspirational.

Cherry tomatoes are red,

The beanies are green,

Spring lamb is lovely,

With garlic that's green.

Feeling Like Spring

Oh, that first really warm spring day!

We had waited far longer than normal around here for that day. Then, after weeks of gray skies and rain, here comes a giddy gift of a day when the sun shone from sunrise to sundown, nonstop! The kind of day when flipflops or sandals are de rigueur.

It's the kind of day when even I, not the world's most dedicated salad lover, makes a salad just to celebrate.

So, here's my grilled lamb salad on romaine lettuce, drizzled with a tart lemony-creamy dressing and showered with an aged Andante dairy goat cheese called Etude. I love the simple tang of this easy-peasy salad dressing and the Etude added a little quiet funk to the whole thing.

The last time we had lamb London broil, I had forgotten that it's a pretty tough cut, so this time I sliced it thinly across the grain after grilling and resting - a good move! The whole salad sang with flavor. I opened every door and window in the house, inviting in the fresh air and sunshine of spring.

Spring Salad Dressing

1 Tbs mayonnaise (I use the stuff in the blue jar)

1/2 lemon, juiced

Freshly ground pepper

A generous grating of Andante Etude aged cheese (or you could use good Parmesan, if you can't find the Etude)

Whisk together the mayo and lemon juice. You can use pepper if you like but the cheese is salty, so hold off on the sodium chloride until you have tasted. Add the cheese to the dressing, or simply grate it over the dressed lettuce.

Lambasted

I'll bet you think that looks like a big mess of bacon, don't you? You'd be right, except the rashers are small and slender - it's lamb bacon.

I had never heard of such a thing before taking a pleasure trip out to Point Reyes Station and stopping at Marin Sun Farms for a dozen of their amazing eggs. One of the meats they had on display was the lamb bacon. Irresistible!

We crisped it as you would regular bacon and served it alongside half a bagel and a couple of those sunny yellow eggs. You can tell how nearly orange the yolks were before scrambling by the color they retain after. They look like I touched them up on Photoshop but, uh, no. We basted the bottom of the pan with a little of the lamb fat rendered from the bacon for a little extra flavor before we poured in the eggs.

The bacon tasted smoky and salty at first, as one expects from bacon, but after a couple of chews, here came that distinctive, dark lamb flavor almost as an aftertaste. There was no sweetness, which I liked given the strong flavor of the lamb. My Beloved wolfed down his portion and looked so longingly at mine that I took pity on him and gave him a couple of strips. I think he would tell you he loved having his innards lambasted.

Again With The Coffee?!

Again with the coffee??

Well, uh, yes. We've been doing all kinds of experimenting with our coffee essence, from desserts to main dishes to quick breads as well as iced in a glass. Coffee, it's not just for breakfast anymore.

This is a lamb loin roast, marinated for about five hours in thinned coffee essence, 2 cloves worth of minced garlic and a big pinch of mixed dried herbs. Then thrown on the barbecue grill over gray coals for 10 minutes on the first side and 6 on the second side. Let it rest for an additional 10 minutes before slicing.

It was amazing. The temptation to overeat was palpable - I had literally to leave the table and go into another room while My stronger-willed Beloved put it away. He may have snagged an extra taste on the way to the fridge, too.

Rich and deeply flavorful, we could taste the garlic but not really the coffee. It was there as an undertone but didn't intrude - a well-dressed bouncer at an upscale night club that you don't notice until the patrons get rowdy and you need the muscle. To say we recommend this method of preparing meat is a gross understatement. Try it. You must try it. Try it now. You can thank me later.

Just Plain Panzanella

Just look at that. So simple, so humble, so tasty!

Bread salad with lamb chunks, marinated artichoke quarters, ripe tomatoes and romaine.

Early in the day, I cut the bread cubes from a leftover sour baguette and left them to dry. When it was dinner time, I sautéed them lightly in olive oil in which I had softened two minced cloves of garlic. Set them aside and raised the heat and added some fresh thyme to the pan to sear bite-sized chunks of lamb steak quickly in the same pan so they were caramelized but still very pink inside. Set them aside. Piled the lettuce, tomato wedges and artichokes in a salad bowl and tossed with some balsamic vinaigrette thinned with an equal amount of lemon juice, then added the lamb, the juice from the pan and the bread to toss it all together.

Presented in a wide pasta bowl, it was hearty, chewy and filled with flavor. When the ingredients are good, food like this doesn't need to be fancy. It can be humble and simple and yet still pack a mighty delicious punch.

Cora's Temptation

We brag quite a bit about our wonderful rescue dog, Cora. We feel we can do that since she came to us at around 2 years of age, already sweet, loving and partially trained. Since we didn't make her this good, we feel we can brag without seeming boastful.

Even in restaurants, Cora is remarkably well-behaved. After an initial tail-wagging for the wait staff and perhaps a pat from that friendly person at the next table, she usually settles quietly down under the table and goes to sleep. No drooling on one's shoes; no begging, hopeful eyes. So, when we took her to Murray Circle to sit with us on the porch while we ate a delightful lunch, we weren't prepared for the antsy, nose-in-our-plates nuisance she turned into.

She was great during the soup course - apparently sweet pea gazpacho and Vichyssoise don't tempt her palate - but when my lamb canneloni with Parmesan sauce and green salad showed up, it was a whole different story. I kept finding that long, quivering nose poked tantalizingly close to my plate with some serious sniffing going on. She was never so rude as to actually lick the plate or try to seize the canneloni but you could tell it was taking every ounce of her self restraint not to. It was hard to scold her, too, as it really did smell wonderful. The taste was hearty and rich, from lamb that had been cooked low and slow, then wrapped in pasta and clothed in silky, cheesy sauce.

If I could have figured out how to save a bite of that marvelous meal for Cora, I would have given her a taste after we left the table. As it was, all she got was a tempting sniff and a whole lot of "Sit!"

Springing Surprises

When My Beloved's daughter Katie came over the other day for her birthday celebration, she sprang a surprise on us - a diamond engagement ring! We were both floored and delighted. We have always approved of her taste in boyfriends but this last one has been the best of all. He did a good job with the proposal, too - romantic setting, fine champagne and a ring he designed himself. We like this guy. Happy news, indeed.

During the celebratory evening, Katie dropped another little idea bomb for me - as we were enjoying the rack of lamb I prepared for her birthday party, she mentioned that she had made risotto with lamb broth. Lamb broth! My imagination was already tasting that risotto.

I collected all the bones from that rack and from the one we couldn't finish that night to make lamb broth, which I did a few days later in preparation for making the risotto. I simply covered the bones with water and simmered them for a couple of hours, removed the bones, and refrigerated the resulting broth to skim the fat the next day.

On Risotto Day, I assembled about eight beautiful fresh green asparagus spears, cut into 1" pieces; a handful of crimini mushrooms; 1/2 onion, chopped; 1/2 cup of white wine; fresh chives and oregano; 3/4 of a cup of arborio rice; 1/3 cup of freshly grated Parmesan cheese; and about 2-1/4 cups of the lamb broth. Arborio, vino, herbo cipolina, cipolla, oregano, crimini, Parmesano Reggiano, agnello - isn't Italian a wonderful language? I love all those vowel sounds.

Anyway, I started by setting the broth to warm on a separate burner, then sautéing the onions in about 2 tablespoons of butter until they were clear, then adding the sliced criminis (stems removed - their stems are tough) to sauté for a few more minutes before adding the rice to cook in the butter with the flavorings until it showed a white center. I poured in the wine and stirred over a medium heat; once the wine was absorbed, I began adding the warm lamb broth a ladle at a time, stirring after each addition.*

As the rice neared the finished state, I added the asparagus, the chopped oregano and continued cooking and stirring until the asparagus were brightly green and just tender, then added the cheese and chives to stir in before serving in shallow bowls. I didn't add any salt as the cheese can be salty but we each sprinkled a little salt and pepper once we had tasted; it needed a little more. Spoons work better than forks for risotto.

This meal seems like the essence of spring - the bright asparagus, the herbs just heading to flowering, the rich, silky rice. It was a lovely surprise, too, to have the lamby undertones to what is usually a chickeny sort of dish. We like all the surprises Katie brings to our lives, especially this fun guy.



*Some recipes say that you must stir constantly but I find that stirring after each addition of broth is plenty - just keep an eye on the pot as you don't want to burn it.

Lemony Cheesy Oniony Ricey

My Beloved did the grocery shopping this week and he always comes back with stuff I'd never think to ask for. Lamb burgers for dinner tonight! I should send him more often.

Alongside the lamb burgers, I needed a little something and I had a some Massa brown rice left over so I decided to doctor it up a bit.

The shallow tub of lemon quark in the fridge seemed promising, so I stirred about a tablespoonful into the warming rice, squeezed in half a Meyer lemon to augment the lemon flavor, and added a chopped green onion. Quark has a texture like fine-grained ricotta The cheese got all melty in the warm pan and the lemon flavor bloomed nicely with the mild onion. As an impromptu side dish for a dinner My Beloved chose, this was pretty darn good. I should send him more often.

Muscleman Soup

Brawny. Vigorous. Hearty. What are the best words to describe soup made with lamb sausages, cranberry beans and assorted tasty veggies? Whatever the word, this soup is it.

My Beloved and I made it to the Marin farmer's market last Sunday for the first time all summer - we had been taking advantage of having our own small market in our little town. Now, that market has packed it up for the winter so we need to go farther afield. What a pleasure it was, too, as the Marin market is much, much larger and more varied than our local one was, with all kinds of interesting victuals available. It was also a lovely, crisp fall day and early enough in the morning that the pushiest of the goal-oriented Marinites were still abed.

Our first stop was at the Prather Ranch booth where we scored some lamb sausages. I was already dreaming of this soup as I left the booth. After a really good cup of coffee and a shared Belgian waffle at a little table in the sunshine, we collected veggies to go with the sausages and headed home via the park where we walked an excited Cora along the lake, actually less of a walk than a constant battle to deny her to either a swim in the water or an invigorating chase of the waterfowl. After that much unexpected exercise, hearty soup is just the ticket.

At home, I squeezed little lamb "meatballs" out of two of the sausage casings and browned them in my soup pot with a little olive oil, poured off the excess fat, then added chopped celery, onion, carrots, anise and fresh corn cut off the cob to cook in the same pot until they were softened. I added a quart of organic tomato soup that I had in the pantry and two cups of water, s & p, and about two cups of Full Belly Farm cranberry beans and brought the whole gmish to a boil. Once the boil was reached, I lowered the heat to a simmer, clapped on the lid and left it all to get acquainted for a couple of bubbly hours.

I always think soup is best the next day, so we waited to taste it until the following lunch. Brawny. Vigorous. Hearty. Deeply, deeply satisfying, it fueled all kinds of muscular activities around here from laundry and dog walking to sales calls and painting touch ups.

Spoiled

Grilled Greek lamb kabobs and corn on the cob. Steamed chard with garlic chips. All lovingly cooked and presented by My Beloved and all I had to do was whine a little bit about how tired I was after a day of laundry, vacuuming and dog walking without even an afternoon nap.

The kabobs were really delicious, steeped in yogurt and lemon juice at the store before he purchased them. The corn was fresh, firm and slicked with butter - and the grilling gives it an almost nutty flavor. This is his patented Swiss chard preparation, the one he used to introduce me to this wonderful veg many years ago. All he did was melt some butter, gently sauté the garlic in it, then add the chard with the water from washing just clinging to the leaves, put on the lid and wait about five minutes - it is always delicious. And revivifying. I may summon enough energy now to carry our dessert down the hall and settle in in front of the television, right next to the sweet guy who spoiled me so nicely today.

Experimintal Sauce

Shoulda known that package had four lamb sirloins in it rather than two but I froze the whole thing together. When I defrosted it for dinner last week, I found we had an embarrassment of riches in the lamb department, enough meat for two meals.

I barbecued all four at once, saving the extra two for another night. Buoyed by the success of the previous night's simple sauce, I made another variation of it, this time also using Greek yogurt but mixing in a chiffonnade of fresh mint.

Absolutely killer with the lamb. Not sweet like mint jelly but minty, yes, and tangy to cut the richness of the meat. Highly successful experimint.

Chiffonade To The Rescue

Sometimes, things just work out for the best. Last Sunday, it was fully noon before I remembered that I had not taken anything out of the freezer for dinner. Nothing edible in the fridge; there weren't even eggs in the house.

I could have faked it by announcing brightly to My Beloved that salad with canned tuna on top is the latest foodie rage. I could have batted my eyelashes and asked to be taken out for dinner. I could have had a shower and gone to the store for provisions. Instead, I rummaged once more through the freezer drawer and ¡hallelujah! I found a lovely, local rack of lamb hiding underneath the soup stock containers.

Rack of lamb, in addition to being on My Beloved's All-Time Hit Parade of Favorite Dinners, thaws in just a few hours. *Whew!* I browned it in a wide frying pan before roasting it for about 30 minutes in a 375 degree oven. Perfectly pink and juicy after letting it stand for the five minutes it took to warm the last of the leftover beans and to cook the peas.

Diving into the fridge for a snack before dinner, I found a rib of celery and happened across some fresh mint, too, so I made a quick chiffonade of celery and mint leaves together to complement the lamb (worked with the peas, too). There it is, nestled at the top between the two chops.

As I said, sometimes, things just have a way of working out for the best.

Lamba-Lamba Ding-Dong

To top off daughter Katie's birthday weekend of merriment, her Mom gave a party for the family on Sunday night. The menu included all kinds of goodies but the hands-down, hooray standouts were the lamb burgers topped with goat cheese and a chiffonade of fresh mint, served on rosemary and thyme split focaccia "buns." Expertly grilled to medium rare perfection by My Beloved and served with tiny artichokes and a caprese salad, they were truly to die for.

I have a new summer grilling favorite; these are tailor made for the barbecue!

Stirred, Not Shaken

Whenever I have a fridge full of a little of this and a little of that, I think "stir fry!" Nothing except soup combines diverse elements into a cohesive whole quite so nicely as a stir fry.

This time, we had a slice or two of lamb left from Easter dinner, still pink the way we like it, and a whole bunch of veggies in the fridge. A tumble of broccoli florets plus the peeled, sliced stem, a few mushrooms, two cloves of garlic, minced, half an onion, two sticks of celery and a handful of cashew nuts.

Even the rice was a motley mixture of the ends of two packages, a tad of the red rice from our CARE package and enough of the sublime Massa brown rice to fill the cup the rest of the way. I sliced the lamb into mouthfuls and sauteed all the different ingredients in order of their density so they'd all be done at the same time, including just a brief sizzle for the lamb and a drizzle of shoyu plus lots of fresh black pepper.

The result was a deeply satisfying dinner that felt healthy while still delivering a rich flavor punch and ready in less than an hour (the Massa rice is more than worth the 50 minute cooking time). I sometimes forget how much fun stir frying is - and love rediscovering it each time!

Pretty Sweet Little Stew

You may recall that we had a little lamb left from the shanks that simmered all day in our crock pot - I was planning to make curry with it so I saved the meat and the rich brown goozly broth from the bottom of the pot.

I wanted to make something similar to a Thai curry, thick with chunks of potatoes and carrots like they served at the Thai restaurant near my workplace; now that I'm retired, what I miss most aside from my students and coworkers is the variety of restaurants nearby. I had a couple of fresh carrots, half an onion and two big red potatoes but, when I opened the vegetable drawer, I noticed that I had half of a small kabocha squash as well, and to my combination of parsimony and taste memory that sounded pretty good.

I peeled and chunked the veggies and coarsely chopped the lamb and plopped them all back into the goozle, warming the meat and simmering the veggies. When I lifted the lid to add the curry part I was struck by the beauty of the stew with its fall colors, and the scent that wafted up was pure winter heaven. It smelled richly of lamb and sweetly of onion and squash. I decided not to mess with perfection.

I just scooped it all into bowls, added a few slices of sour baguette, and called it dinner. My Beloved and I had one of those moments where we taste, meet each other's eyes and grin. Pretty sweet little stew, indeed!

The Essence of Slow Food

The Slow Food movement just got a lot slower at our house. Digging through my china closet I discovered, wedged in the back on the floor behind a box of glasses I rarely use, the crock pot I bought for $2.00 at a garage sale years ago and had never used.

I confess that I've been somewhat skeptical about crock pots despite several friends who swear by their virtues. I bought this one on the recommendation of my pal Sari who has a plethora of crock pots in her kitchen, more than anyone else I know.

Having recently scored two beautiful locally grass-raised lamb shanks at the Paradise Market in Corte Madera, it seemed like a fine idea finally to try out this bargain basement purchase.

Loading the crock pot with the shanks and some aromatics was the work of a moment - the recipe didn't even call for browning the shanks first - so I clapped on the lid, set it to "high" and, sure enough, in just a few minutes, steam began to collect inside the clear plastic lid, reassuring me that my garage sale find was indeed functional.

After an hour or two, we noticed a rich lamb smell in the house and that Cora had positioned herself within sight of the crock pot. What emerged nearly 8 hours later were really delicious lamb shanks, so tender that the meat was literally falling off the bone as I lifted it gingerly out with tongs. The carrots, onions, garlic, rosemary, mustard, wine and shallots had flavored the meat and their relaxed remnants made a nice, soft accompaniment to it. All I added to the contents of the crock pot was a spoonful of bright green peas. We sat down to dinner with candles and the rest of the bottle of wine that I used in the pot, and ate a leisurely meal in true Slow Food tradition.

Braised Lamb Shanks with Garlic and Rosemary by Lora Brody in Slow Cooker Cooking

Click on the link above for the recipe I used, with a few tweaks. I chose it mainly because I had all the ingredients on hand but I'd make it again in a heartbeat (or rather in 6 hours of heartbeats). The author claimed that there would be no leftovers but, in our case, there were. Two hefty lamb shanks is too much for us. I'm planning to make curry with the rest of the meat and with the juices left in the bottom of the crock pot.

Here are my tweaks: I used less garlic and added shallots, because I had less of the former and more of the latter. I also cooked it for less time than the recipe called for and, honestly, I think it would have been mush had I held out for the full 12 hours, at least in my crock pot. In fact, next time, I will try cooking it on high for 3 hours, then on low for 3 - I'm pretty sure that would be plenty.

I was on board with the Slow Food idea long before I tried cooking lamb shanks in a crock pot but I'm even more of a believer now.

Another Brown Meal

Last Friday, I got a hot tip about an artist's talk in the city from Nancy who writes Chez NamasteNancy, a fun blog about the arts scene in San Francisco. After an excellent artist's talk by Ala Ebtekar, a student I met when I worked at the San Francisco Art Institute, at the wonderful San Francisco Center for the Book, My Beloved and I met our friend the Evil Empress and her Guy at Lulu's for a bite to eat. MB and I shared this dish, Lamb Bolognese, a rich concoction of braised lamb chunks over pappardelle pasta and topped with soft, fresh cheese.

It was delicious. It was brown. But the very best thing about it was the noodles, as thin as our wallets in a Bush administration and oh-so-delicate, they were downright silky and gently flavorful. I could eat noodles like this forever. A great evening made up of equal parts of aesthetic appreciation, good friends and killer noodles.

Monday Night Bargain

Returning from our trip to the East coast, My Beloved and I were not in the mood to cook that evening, so we strolled down to the Hotel Mac, a landmark in our little town of Point Richmond, to see if they would make dinner for us.

It was a Monday evening and we discovered that not only would they cook for us, they have bargain dinners on Mondays. Each entree was 15-50% less than it would have been any other night of the week. Needless to say, we stayed!

This picture represents less than half of the dinner they served to me. When the menu reads "Rack of Lamb," know that they serve each person an entire rack, plus greens and roast potatoes. Regularly $32.00, it costs $24.00 on Mondays.

We had ordered the potato cake you see here and a (huge) dish of mushrooms thinking that there were no veggies offered with the meal - when the full plates arrived, we asked the waiter to bring us a doggie bag even before we started eating - there was no way we could eat all we had ordered! Even without the extra side dishes, we'd have been pressed to finish the generous servings. We filled four doggie bags.

The Hotel Mac serves good, solid American food choices with some elegance, a nicely quiet atmosphere and attentive service. My Beloved and I plan to extend our weekends with Monday night dinners at the Hotel Mac from now on because it means that Tuesday night's dinner is covered, as well, and possibly lunch on Wednesday. If you're looking for a sumptuous dinner at a reasonable price, we can highly recommend the Hotel Mac Mondays!

Stoup

Too chunky to be soup and too juicy to be stew, this is what I made from the lamb scraps left over from "Frenching" a rack of lamb.

After gleaning all the good meat from the scraps, I browned the lamb in a pot 'til it was well caramelized, then added chopped green garlic, mild Maui onion and fresh thyme from the garden, cooking until the garlic and onion were soft. Added a cup of homemade chicken stock and stewed it for a little while, then dropped in the Full Belly Farm cranberry beans that I had soaked overnight and boiled for about half an hour. During the last five minutes I added about a cup of frozen peas and pearl onions, simmering just until the peas were done but still brightly green. A final seasoning with salt and pepper before ladling it into stoup bowls.