| Sumer is icumen in, Lhude sing cuccu! (13th Century traditional English round) |
Summer has not quite come in but should you have a desire to sing “cuckoo” rather loudly for some reason, don’t worry, it’s just round the corner which is why last week I thought I had better start getting ready for it, so I cleaned the barbecue. It didn’t take long but when I’d finished, I felt a bit more prepared for the lazy al fresco lunches and starlit dinners that are part of our ever-glorious summer (yeah right.) and of course Christmas is now within a countable number of sleeps. Being English, I admit that after many years I still haven’t quite got used to a summer Christmas but I have always done what I can, without pining too much for yuletide cold and drizzle, to embrace the local traditions of sunburn, Santa in shorts and barbecued Christmas dinner.
With turkey now available year-round it doesn’t seem as special as it once did, so quite apart from even thinking of cooking a bird that size on a barbecue, I prefer to cook something else over the coals (or the gas). I still like the idea of carving at the Christmas table; I think it adds to the sense of occasion with everybody there and waiting to enjoy the meal together, so things like steaks and chops are out and if there must be sausages let them be for garnish only.
We decided that lamb would be sufficiently special, no longer being affordable to most as the weekend roast and the cut should be a butterflied leg. A decent sized leg will serve from six to eight people with other dishes, with the advantage that if there are any leftovers they will probably be good for one light meal rather than the days and days of turkey this and turkey that. If you buy the lamb from a butcher rather than wrapped in label and logo laden plastic from a supermarket, you will be better able to see and choose the leg you want to buy, rather than the one the supermarket wants to sell and of course the butcher can butterfly and trim it for you; you can even keep the bone.
I don’t have one of the ox-capable outdoor kitchens on wheels with auto-calibrated multi-burners, NASA designed thermo-reactive hood and turbo rotisserie and separate his and hers wok rings, that is the modern barbecue, just a flat grill, but that is all this recipe needs.
Cracker Lamb
1 butterflied leg of lamb (1.25kg finished weight)
4 tbsp olive oil
3 spring onions
1 tbsp fresh thyme leaves
1 tbsp fresh rosemary leaves
½ cup fresh mint
1½ tbsp soft brown sugar
Zest of ½ lemon
Juice of a lemon
1 tsp salt
A good grinding of black pepper
Place the lamb in a stainless steel, glass or ceramic dish, large enough for it to lie flat.
Put the other ingredients in a processor and blend until smooth. Pour this paste over the lamb ensuring that it is coated all over. Cover with plastic wrap and store in the refrigerator to marinate overnight.
Remove the lamb from the fridge an hour before cooking. When the barbecue is hot, remove the lamb from the marinade, shaking off any excess. Place flat on the barbecue, keeping the marinade. Grill the lamb over a medium-hot barbecue for about 30 minutes for medium rare, turning occasionally and basting with the marinade and dealing with the inevitable but undesirable flare-ups with a squirt of water.
When cooked, transfer the lamb to the cutting board, cover with foil and leave to rest for 15 minutes before carving. It is delicious with a spoonful of homemade aioli or garlic mayonnaise.
Serve with asparagus, sliced fennel and some courgettes halved lengthways, all brushed with oil and grilled; new potatoes either steamed/boiled and buttered or parboiled for 10 minutes, tossed in a mix of olive oil, lemon juice and wholegrain mustard and placed on the grill for about 15 minutes, while the meat rests, until they are cooked and golden and a simple spicy salad of watercress, slices of red onion and capsicum and crisp radishes with a vinaigrette dressing.
If the weather doesn’t allow for a barbecue, this can easily be cooked on a ridged grill pan on the cooker (turn off the smoke alarm first) or even in the oven. As for the turkey, well, there is always mid-winter, isn’t there?