The Viking Roasts (Again!) - Stuffed Breast of Lamb with Minted Potatoes and Green Sauce

Another sunny spring weekend has been and gone – this time with the added benefit of two days of holiday thanks to the escapades of a man in the Middle East some 2,000 years ago – and with it came the chance to get hold of a nice piece of lamb and eat it in the sunshine.

"Seriously? What's your problem, guy?"

So, I hied my hide to the butcher and spent the princely sum (well, if the Prince in question was on a very tight budget, anyway) of £3 on a piece of lamb breast.  I walked home, the lamb weighing heavily in a plastic bag swung casually from my wrist, the sun beating down on the top of my head. 

“I’ll do a tagine,” I thought, the first few notes of a whistle escaping my lips “or a curry, something different, something that’s not a roast,” I assured myself, the spring in my step threatening at any moment to upgrade itself from ‘merry walk’ to ‘full blown skip’ – a step that isn’t lightly undertaken in South East Twenty, I can tell you.  Around five hundred feet from home, however, my plans – well laid and meticulously thought out – did gang aglay.  Someone, an inconsiderate and callous someone at that, had left their windows open, allowing the scents of their cooking to flow, unannounced and uninvited, in to the street.  Complicit in this olfactory crime was the light spring breeze that lifted the smell of roasting meat, herbs, and gravy in to my unsuspecting nostrils.  It was an assault, friends, although you will be surprised to learn, I am sure, that the Police didn’t take my complaint of “that git at number 63 put me right off making a curry” very seriously at all.  Some might say there was a degree of sarcasm in the constable’s voice as he put the ‘phone down on me.

I sat in my lounge, staring at this piece of meat, it looking back at me with a sort of embarrassed expression (which was remarkable for something that didn’t have a face), until I could resist it no longer.  Heady with the scents of rosemary and gravy and meat and mint and potatoes (from the git at number 63), I sprang to my feet and pointed accusingly at the meat in front of me. 

“I am going to stuff you!” I cried. “I am going to ruddy well stuff you full of rosemary and garlic and then I am going to roast you until you’re all meaty and tender and juicy, and how do you like that, eh?”

The lamb remained silent, although my wife did mutter something and leave the room without looking backwards.  She seems to be doing that a lot, lately.

Anyway, the lamb was suitably mollified, and I was happy that everything finally seemed to be going to well, so it was time to cook.  And, after 500 words of my rambling, I would think that you’re ready for me to get going.  So:

The Viking Roasts (Again!) – Stuffed Breast of Lamb with Minted Potatoes and Green Sauce

For this wonderful, springy offering, you’re going to need STUFF:

"Hey! HEY! Are you a leg or a BREAST man?"

- A breast of lamb (a large one should feed about four people)

- Rosemary (3-4 sprigs)

- Garlic (5-6 cloves)

- Shallots (2-3, chopped)

- New Potatoes

- Breadcrumbs (you can buy these in pots, but I used about a quarter of a loaf of day-old French bread)

- Olive Oil

- Salt

- Pepper

- Nutmeg

- Mint

- Parsley

For the Green sauce, you’ll need:

- A handful of Parsely

- A handful of Basil

- A handful of mint

- 3-4 garlic cloves, grated

- 1 tsp Capers

- Olive Oil

- Pepper

Now, I am going to experiment with something I’ve never done before.  Here is your method, numbered and everything, for your cooking ease:

1)      Pre-heat oven to gas mark 4 (180c)

2)      In a bowl, combine breadcrumbs, finely chopped (or grated) cloves of garlic, finely chopped rosemary, chopped parsley and chopped shallots.

3)      Add olive oil bit by bit (remember, it’s easier to add a little at a time than it is to take it out), until the mixture is bound.

4)      Season with a little salt and pepper.

5)      Add half a teaspoon of nutmeg and mix again.

6)      Place the lamb on to a cutting board, and spread the stuffing mix over it.

I got a little extra meat, so stuffed the meat with meat!

7)      Roll the lamb breast up, and use some butcher’s string to tie it together in three places.

8)      Place in to a roasting tin with half a cup of water in the bottom of it, cover (with a lid or with foil) and roast for an hour and a half.

9)      Uncover, and roast for another 30 minutes

10)   Place potatoes and a good handful of roughly-chopped mint in to a pan of boiling water.  Simmer for about 20 minutes, or until tender (if a fork presses easily in to the potato it’s cooked)

For the green sauce, which can be made beforehand or during the last half an hour, your method is as follows:

1)      In a blender, add mint, parsley, basil, capers, garlic, and pepper

2)      Blitz, and add olive oil a little at a time

3)      The end result should be a little thicker than mint sauce, I also quite like it when the capers haven’t been completely broken down

Now, it’s time to plate up.  Carve the breast in to nice, thick slices (you may need to use a knife with a serrated edge as this helps the meat and stuffing keep its shape).

Watch out for those tiny bones.  You need to remove them
before you start cooking...

Serve next to minted potatoes, with a drizzle of green sauce and thin gravy made from the juices in the roasting tin.  Eat, and to go with it I would recommend a slightly chilled bottle of Doombar, a most excellent ale that has particular fond memories for me as I drank about six too many of them the night before my wedding.

Potatoes can be improved by melting a little butter over the top...

The great thing about this roast is that it is fairly light, so you don’t feel like you need to have a nap for the rest of the afternoon.  And, with the weather the way it is, that means that you can fuel yourself up and get out there in to the sunshine.  Make the most of it; the summer is all too brief!

I hope that, once again, you give this a go, and let me know how it works out for you.  Last week, I got a picture of a Shooter’s Sandwich that someone made, and I am not ashamed to say that it made me quite proud.  So, get cooking, tell your friends, and I will see you again next week, hopefully with a dish that isn’t another roast. 

But I can’t promise anything!  :)

Til then,

Viking

The Viking Griddles – a Two Course Feast!

What do you do, if you’re an aspiring food blogger/writer/gastronomic whizz, and it’s your wife’s birthday, and you don’t have the necessary wodge to take her to one of London’s finest eateries?  Well, you say to her:

“Darling!  Light that is my life! As we celebrate another year of your life on this Earth, what can I cook for you for a birthday feast?”

Yes, she might question why you have to bring drama in to everything, and yes, she will probably think that you’re just looking for something to cook so you can write about it (and she’d be right, honestly).  This is probably why my wife looked at me with what we call an ‘Ancelotti Eyebrow’ and said “I’d like a steak, please.”

And lo, so it came to pass, that this week I will be writing about steak.  A good, British steaky steak from a big arsed hairy cow.  But of course, this was a birthday feast, and I’ve written about steak before – I’m sure we all remember eating Kanga and Roo from the Winnie the Pooh books, and Piglet has been done too.  I’ve only to work through Rabbit, Donkey, Owl, Heffalump, Robin and Bear and then I can cast the memory of those god-awful saccharine Disney cartoons far from my mind.  But I digress.  So this time I’ll be doing two courses for you to try out.  Yes, two!  That’s two for the price of one, and as you pay nothing to read my witterings, you’re in profit!

So.  For starters, I offer you Danish Stuffed Mushrooms.  You will need, as usual, STUFF:

- Large mushrooms, one a person

- A lump of Danish Blue.  You could use Stilton, I suppose, if you are a pervert

- Breadcrumbs (I made mine out of day old French bread, but you can buy little packets of breadcrumbs)

- 3 Shallots, chopped

- Chopped parsley

- Chopped coriander

- Salt and Pepper

- Salad

The potatoes and broccoli are for later on, I really
didn't think that photo through...

Firstly, sweat down your chopped shallots in a little olive oil...

In a food processor, whizz down your old bread to a coarse crumb.  If you've brought pre-made crumbs, skip to the next step.  Which is add the cheese, shallots, coriander, parsley, salt and pepper to the crumbs and combine together.  This should form a sort of doughy paste – not too dry, but not too wet, either.  You can combine with a food processor if you want – sadly, mine gave out after having struggled with the bread – but you can also do as I did and combine together with your hands.  You’ll have stinky cheese fingers, but that’s all part of the drama.

Now, remove the stalks from your mushrooms, rub the dome of it with a little olive oil, and then stuff the mushroom cavity with your cheese mixture.

Whack it in an oven that has been preheated to Gas Mark 3/160 C, and cook for half an hour.  Serve on a bed of rocket salad.

It might not be much to look at, but the combination of bready crunch, the herb blast from the parsely and coriander and the melty, gooey cheesiness that runs through it all is absolutely, completely and totally divine.

And now, on to the main course!  Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you Griddled Rib-Eye Steak with Dauphinoise Potatoes and Broccoli for a bit of Green.

You will need some STUFF, and woe betide you if you don’t have it:

- A rib-eye steak per person

- Potatoes, peeled and sliced

- 500ml of double cream

- Garlic cloves, grated

- Salt

- Pepper

Steak, as you may have gathered by now, is one of my favourite things.  But you can make it in to something quite special by substituting chips for posh-o dauphinoise potatoes.  They are creamy, garlicky and uncommonly good – and, as it turns out, stupidly easy to make.

Begin by prepping your potatoes.  You don’t need as many as you think, for two portions I peeled three medium sized potatoes.  Peel, and then use a mandoline or the big side of a cheese grater to slice them in to thin, crisp sized slices:

Yeah, it looks friendly enough, but it'll have
your fingers off in an instant...

Leave in a bowl and once you’re done slicing, rinse to remove all of the starch.  Pat dry, and then season with salt and pepper.  Now add the garlic, as many cloves as fits your taste – I used three, but reckon I could have got away with a bit more.  Top and tail each clove, but don’t bother peeling it.  Just run it straight through a grater – amazingly, the skin doesn't go through but all of the flesh of the clove does.  Add that in to your potatoes as well.

Now, pour in the cream and gently stir the whole mixture around, making sure that everything is covered in a nice blanket of garlic cream.

Then, layer your potato in to a dish.  Here, I have been quite cheffy and used small ramekins to make individual portions, but you could use a big gratin dish, something like that, for big giant portions of heaven.

Once you’re done, press down the mix with the back of a spoon and pour over any more cream as you see fit.  Then this goes in to the oven for 45 minutes to an hour at Gas Mark 3/160 C.

Now get your steaks out of the fridge and leave them for half an hour to come up to room temperature.  At this point, rub a small amount of oil in to each side of the steak – do not put oil in the pan.  Season well with pepper and, when you’re ready to cook, get the pan so hot it shimmers.  Drop the steaks in the pan and revel in the loud sizzle they make.

Cook on a high heat for one minute on either side, then turn the hob down to a medium heat and cook for a further 2 minutes on each side for a medium steak.  Rest for five minutes, and you’re good to go. (Obviously, you’ll need to time this so this matches with when your dauphinoise come out of the oven.)

In the meantime, you will have simmered some heads of broccoli for about 10 minutes – this is so they keep their greenness and their crunch (as well as all that irony goodness inside).  Arrange this on to a warm plate next to a hunk of steak.

If you’ve cooked your potatoes in ramkeins like me, you may want to turn them out and present them on the plate as a little pile of creamy potato.  Be really careful when doing this as the ramekins will be very hot.  Lay something flat (like a plastic lid) over the top of the ramekin, and turn it upside down.  Give it a gentle shake and lift it away – you’ll have a perfect little tower of dauphinoise.  To serve, gently lay another small, flat surface on top, and flip so that the browned side is facing upwards.  Slide on to a plate and voila!  Chef-like results in the home.

Eat.  Enjoy.  Celebrate.  That’s what this sort of food should inspire – if you make an effort beyond going down to a local restaurant for somebody’s birthday, if you give them the gift of food that is made with love and care, then they will really appreciate it.

Still, I’d get them a present too, just to be on the safe side.

And there we are again, at the end of another wee blogette.  Next week, I’ll be departing from Food Viking tradition, and posting a review of a restaurant I’m going to be eating in this weekend – I am going to be far from my own kitchen and I steadfastly refuse to cook while I’m on my mini holiday.  However, if this causes outcry, I’m sure I can do another mini-blog at some point in the week too.

I hope, as ever, that you enjoy this blog and if you do – tell your friends!  Everybody needs a Viking in their lives!

Take care now,

Viking

The Viking Experiments: Cream Cheese Chicken and Spring Veg

The humble chicken forms the base for many of the week’s meals chez Viking.  I bloody love chicken, in any of its forms – fajitas, roasted, curried, in a pie, casseroled, the list is virtually endless.  Heck, I have even been known to go weak at the knees when I walk past a Nandos and I am not sorry.

I do draw the line somewhere though.  The line I draw is at KFC.  Do you remember when it used to be called ‘Kentucky Fried Chicken’?  I do.  I’m fairly confident that the only reason they switched to ‘KFC’ was because although their product could be reasonably be described as ‘Kentucky’ and ‘Fried’, perhaps ‘Chicken’ was a little too far a stretch of the truth.  And as for their new ‘So Good’ campaign, trying to convince the public that deep fried chicken is a healthy choice, well.  I am offended by it on so many levels I’m not sure where to start.

“I’ve been working in the restaurant industry for twenty years” an earnest man tells us while he peruses fresh vegetables in a supermarket.  He goes on to inform us that in his restaurant, they only use the finest ingredients – fresh green lettuce, juicy legs of chicken (“hand breaded right here!” as if that’s some kind of high-end fine-dining thing that we’re supposed to be impressed by).  Of course, the ad then does us up like a kipper, revealing the man to be a KFC store manager and his products are, of course, ‘So Good’.  And, to be fair, they look good, too.  Crisp, dry, fried chicken sits in a bucket next to a legion of golden brown french fries.  Coleslaw on the side appears zingy and crunchy with carrot and mayonnaise.  You’re almost fooled, until you walk past a KFC.  Firstly, your nose is assaulted by a spicy, greasy smell.  Looking through the window, you see hordes of people troughing greasy piles of putrid mess in to their faces – and this is not the crisp golden feast you saw in the advert.  You realise, in that moment, that KFC, and its products, is not only an offense to the human digestive system (not to mention the all-out warfare that it starts on the coronary system), but (more importantly) is an offense to the poor chickens that gave their all-too-short lives to end up in a greasy box.

KFC must be stopped.  Or at least their misleading advertising campaigns should be.

So you’re sitting there thinking “Okay Viking.  We get that you hate KFC, but what else is my choice?  I want a quick dinner that is tasty, filling and healthy.”

Well.  I may not be able to provide you with fried chicken, but boy – have I got a recipe for you this week.

Cream Cheese Roast Chicken with Spring Vegetables

“What!” you’re crying “I thought you said this was healthy?  What’s cream cheese doing in there?”

Relax.  It’s only a teaspoon or so per bit of chicken, it’s not going to kill you.  So, anyway, you’re going to need STUFF:

- Chicken thighs or legs (depending on preference – I find that two thighs is enough per person, or one leg.  I like the thigh of a chicken, it’s cheap, tender, and very good to eat)

- A handful of bacon lardons (or chopped bacon)

- Boursin cream cheese (I used the garlic and herb variety)

- 3 leeks

- 3 carrots

- 1 or 2 red onions, quartered

- A few cloves of garlic, whole

- A few sprigs of thyme

- Salt

- Pepper

- Tabasco Sauce (optional)

-Olive oil

OK, let’s get prepped. Preheat your oven to 220c/gas mark 7. Top and tail your leeks, peel, and then roughly chop.  Top and tail your carrots, peel, and split into quarters, lengthways.  Peel and quarter your onions.  Peel your garlic cloves and give them a light press with the back of a knife to get them releasing their oils.  Place all of your veg in to a roasting tin, drizzle with olive oil, season with salt and pepper (and, if you like a bit of spice, a healthy dash of Tabasco sauce) and roast for 15 minutes.

Easy!

While that’s roasting, use for fingers to gently pull away the skin from the meat of the chicken.  Take a small amount of cream cheese and make it malleable with your fingers.  Hold the skin of the chicken back with one hand and use the other to spread the cheese over the meat.  This gets messy as the cheese sticks to your fingers, but the end result is well worth it.  Grind a bit of black pepper over the skin of the chicken, and set aside.

Then, in a little olive oil, fry off your bacon until cooked.  Place on a piece of kitchen paper to soak up the fat it releases and pat dry.

By now you should have used up the fifteen minutes of roasting for the vegetables.  Remove from the oven and arrange your chicken pieces overt the top of the vegetables.  Scatter the bacon around the dish generously, drizzle with a little more olive oil and then return to the oven for 45 minutes, or until the chicken is cooked through (poke the fattest part of the meat with a skewer or long fork.  If the juices run clear, your chicken is cooked).

Spoon a big helping of vegetables in to a bowl, top with chicken, and eat.  The cream cheese helps the chicken to retain its moisture – you’ll find a crispy, golden skin wraps a deliciously tender pieces of meat that has taken on all of the garlicky flavours of the cheese, but is not greasy in any way.  The vegetables will have a vibrant colour – the greens of the leeks, the purples of the onions and the orange of the carrots will be beautifully offset by the pink of the bacon lardons.  It’s one of those meals that makes you happy, and on a lovely spring or summer evening you can take this in to the garden with a glass of crisp, dry white wine, sit in the sun, and be glad that you’re alive.

You’ll notice that, at the bottom of your roasting tin, there will be a lot of meat juices and fats from the cooking process.  You can keep these for the next day, add them to some chicken stock with some vegetables, and make a nice chicken soup (made even better if you have any meaty leftovers!)

And there we are, the end of another entry and (as far as I remember) the first one about Chicken, too.  I’ll be back next week – I’ve no plans for what to cook for you as yet, but I’m sure I’ll come up with something. 

‘Til then, folks!

Viking

The Viking Pies - Pig and Potato Pie!

If someone said to you, completely out of the blue: “Hey, what’s mankind’s greatest ever invention?” you might panic and, without a moment’s thought, reply “The wheel!” or “The telescope!” or “The Internet!”

You would, on all three counts, be wrong.  Very wrong.  I am about to demonstrate why.

As early as 589 BC, humans had invented something so incredible, so beautiful in its simplicity, so mouth –watering that it has endured to this very day.  Sure, it’s not particularly fashionable – but in terms of taste, texture, variety and sheer culinary wizardry it beats almost all comers.  When you’re down, eating a few of these can make you feel happy, when it’s cold, they can make you feel warm.  Greek philosophers have written plays about them.  Civilisations from all over the world have had their own kinds – from China to Europe to the Americas and probably even the Moon.

I present to you the humble Sausage – mankind’s greatest invention.

The sausage can be so much more than just lips, bumholes and trotters.  It can be so much more than a hog tube slopped next to lumpy mash.  It doesn’t have to be a rancid pink tube filled with the cast offs of the farmyard’s most noble beast.  If you take time, and pick carefully, you too can have a sausage that is meaty, herby and divine – the delicate skin of the casing bursts against the press of your teeth, releasing coarse, tender, flavourful chunks of lovingly crafted sausage in to your gullet.  Make no mistake, despite the £1-for-six supermarket abominations, sausage making is an art form and one that I intend to take up before the year is out.  In the meantime, I am prepared to spend a few pence more and get something of really high quality, to turn out everything from the classic British “Soss, eg ‘n chips” to Toad in the Hole to Sausage and Leek Risotto.  I am particularly partial to a Cumberland Ring, myself, but every butcher has their own specials.  There’s a butcher in Essex around the corner from my Mum (http://www.iessex.co.uk/profile/292124/Chelmsford/C-Humphreys-and-Sons/) that does the best ever sausage – Beef, Mustard and Guinness.  I had better carry on before I hurry away from my desk and by a load of them.

So this week, I present to you Pig and Potato Pie with Spring Veg!

Firstly, you will need STUFF:

- Good quality Cumberland sausages (about three per person should do it)

- Mushrooms, quartered

- A couple of carrots, chopped

- 5/6 shallots, peeled and halved

- 1 or 2 red onions, peeled and quartered

- 1 chilli, chopped

- 2 cloves of garlic, chopped

- A pinch of cayenne pepper

- Potatoes for mash

- Kale

- A knob of butter

- A splash of milk

- Mustard – good, fiery, English mustard!

- Beef stock – half a pint to a pint – enough to make a good gravy with

- BOOZE!  I used half a pint of Guinness, but a good ale or a glass of red wine would be just as good.

Firstly, gently sweat the shallots, carrots and garlic in a pan until softened.  Then, add the quartered onions until they gain some colour.  Finally, add the sausages and fry them off for about 10 minutes until they are brown and nearly cooked.  Depending on the amount of sausages you’re using, you may need to do this in batches.  Once you have done this, remove the sausages and place to one side on a plate.

Now add the chilli to the shallots, carrots, onions and garlic and cook for a minute over a medium heat.  Then add your stock, booze, and a generous pinch of cayenne pepper and bring to the boil.  When boiling, add your sausages back to the pan, and bring the mixture down to a steady simmer, making sure that the sausages are completely covered by the gravy.  Try to reduce the gravy so it thickens, but not too much.  Cover with a lid, and turn your attention to the potatoes.

Bring them to the boil, and then simmer for around 20 minutes, or until you can prick them with a fork.  Meanwhile, wilt some kale (my ingredient of the moment) in a pan.  When the potatoes are done, mash them and stir in the kale with a generous helping of mustard, depending on how fiery you like it.

Spoon the sausages and vegetables in to a ovenproof dish, taking care not to add too much gravy – you want some, but you don’t want the potato to get sloppy.

Once that’s done, use a couple of spoons to dollop the potato on top of your filling.  Whack the whole lot in to an oven that has been preheated to 220c/Gas Mark 7 and leave it for half an hour, or until the potato topping is golden brown.

There is no neat way of presenting this.   Spoon out even portions of potato, sausage, gravy and veg in to bowls or deep plates.

Serve with a big grind of black pepper on the top, a nice bottle of Hopping Hare by Badger Brewery (trust me, you’ll want wine but this beer is the Bees Knees and its distinctive, hoppy flavour lends itself really nicely to these herby sausages…  Give it a go!) and sit back and revel in the contended munching sounds your guests will invariably be making.  Sheer, utter bliss.

And that’s it, the end of another blog.  Once again, be sure to give this a try, and let me know how the results are.

The Viking Roasts - Slow Roast Spring Lamb with North African Spices

So, looking out the window it appears that Spring has finally sprung.  Daffodils are in bloom, people are smiling again, and the first signs of hay fever are already beginning to show.  How better to celebrate the arrival of the best time of year, then, than to grab a cute little critter like this:

"Pardon me?"

…and eat it?  There is no better way, this I can promise you.  So this week I am going to do yet another roast, but this time with a North African flavour.  I love a simple roast leg of lamb as much as the next Viking, but if you really want to show people that you really paid attention during River Cottage, then this is the meal for you.

Firstly, let’s talk meat.  Try not to think of the little lamb, happily gambolling through the fields, generally being happy and enjoying life.  And, if you must think of that, at least be content in the fact that this gorgeous little beast gave its life for a higher purpose.  You could make this dish with a leg of lamb if you were so inclined, but I think that the shoulder is by far the best cut, for several reasons.  Firstly, the meat is so very tender, meaning that when it comes to carving you won’t even need a knife, you’ll just be able to pull the meat off of the bone with a couple of forks.  Secondly, the flavour of the meat in the shoulder is so deliciously sweet and fresh that as soon as you bite in to it you could very well convince yourself that you’ve landed up in heaven.  Thirdly, the shoulder of lamb is a much cheaper cut than the leg – and that can’t be a bad thing.

Shouldering the responsibility of a good roast...

So, get yourself down to the butcher, or a local supermarket with a good meat counter.  I can’t emphasise the following enough, though: if you have a local butcher, use them.  Butchery really is a dying art form in this country, and the Supermarkets aren’t going to suffer if you spread your business around a bit more.  Please try and support industries like this, because having a local supplier (be it of meat, vegetables, or anything else) who has expert knowledge built up over years of working with the product is invaluable, and it would be a crying shame if we as a nation were to lose this expertise just because a Supermarket can supply produce at a marginally cheaper rate.  Also, buying your meat from a butcher helps to support the farmer – Supermarkets (some of them anyway) have an atrocious record of following the consumer and not the supplier, and that’s wrong.  It’s offensive to us as consumers (after all, wouldn’t you pay a little more for your meat and know that both animal and farmer have been well looked after) and, moreover, it’s offensive to the animal that you’re about to eat.  But anyway, rant over.  Anyhow, once you’re there, a whole shoulder will feed four people well, and you’ll still have enough left over for a meal in the week.  A half shoulder will feed two hungry people quite comfortably.

You’ll also need, for the spice paste:

- Coriander seeds

- Fennel seeds

- Black Peppercorns

- Rock salt

- Cayenne pepper

- Paprika

- Rosemary, leaves of 2 sprigs, chopped

- 2 cloves of garlic, chopped

- Olive oil

Other things on your grocery list should be:

- Potatoes

- Parsnips

- Broccoli

- Carrots

- Lamb stock

- A glass of red wine

- Bisto

The Usual Suspects

A lot of that you might have in your store cupboard already, and if you do have to go out and get some then at least you will have some left over for more deliciously spiced recipes.

You’ve got all of your STUFF, then, so first you need to make the spice paste.  You can do this on the day, but as this is a long, slow roast you might not want to get up ridiculously early in the morning to make it if you’re aiming for lunch.  I made my paste the evening beforehand.  So, in a hot dry pan, toast a couple of teaspoons worth of coriander, fennel and black peppercorns for about a minute until they are fragrant.

Empty in to a mortar and pestle, and add two teaspoons of paprika, a nice large pinch of cayenne, two teaspoons of rock salt and your chopped rosemary and garlic.  Add two tablespoons of olive oil, mix thoroughly, and you’re ready to go. 

TOP VIKING TIP: You might not have a mortar and pestle.  I don’t, despite repeated requests.  So here’s an easy way to make your own, makeshift spice crusher.  Get some good, strong tin foil and tear off a piece about A4 size.  Fold in half, and then double fold along the edges so you have a little pouch.

Put your spices in there, and then double fold the top so that it’s sealed.  Place on a sturdy chopping board, and find yourself something heavy like a rolling pin.  Apply lots of pressure and roll the pin across the parcel – you’ll be able to hear the seeds and corns breaking and it’s very satisfying.  Then, summoning up all of your stress, rage, fear, hatred of that guy on the tube and Justin Bieber, hit the parcel with the rolling pin.  Hit it again and again and again.  Hit it like Nora Batty hits Compo.  Enjoy the noise and release of tension.  When the parcel is flat, ta da!  You have ground spices!

The foil I used this week wasn't quite as strong as I needed...

Now you have your spice paste, lightly score the skin of the lamb with a sharp knife.  Massage the spice paste in to the lamb, top and bottom, making sure you get a nice even covering.

If you’re doing this the evening before you intend to cook, place on a board and cover with foil, and store in the fridge overnight.  Remove the meat from the fridge 30 minutes before you start cooking on the day to allow the meat to come up to room temperature.  If you've got the time you should definitely try this method – having the meat marinade in the spices overnight really adds to the depth of flavour you’re creating.  If you’re doing this on the day, transfer the meat to a roasting tin and you’re ready to get cooking – don’t worry, you’re still going to get some really good flavours out of this dish!

Preheat your oven to 220c/gas 7.  Once hot, place your lamb in the oven, uncovered, on the middle shelf.  Cook for half an hour and then turn the oven right down to 120c/gas mark ½ - if your oven has a slow cook setting use that.  Add a cup of water to the pan, cover with foil, and then cook for at least five hours – six ideally.  So go out, have a run, walk the dog, sneak off to the pub, whatever you want to do – these six hours are yours.  Just make sure you have:

- Potatoes peeled and quartered ready for roasting (in water)

- Parsnips peeled and halved (in water)

- Broccoli prepped (in water)

- Carrots scrubbed and washed (in water)

After the cooking time is up, remove from the oven and uncover.  Your lamb will be cooked; you’ll be able to tell just by looking at it.  The bone will be protruding from the meat, and if you use a couple of forks the meat will tear apart beautifully.

The temptation to forget veg entirely and whack this straight
in to a crusty loaf with some mint sauce is almost - almost - unbearable

Cover again, and leave on the side.  Turn the oven right up to 220c/gas 7 again and put a roasting tin with a good slug of oil in the oven for your potatoes and parsnips.  Once the oven is to temperature and the oil is good and hot, add the potatoes and parsnips to the roasting tin making sure they all get a good covering of oil.  Season to taste, then roast for 45 minutes, turning half way through.  Carrots and Broccoli need no more than 10-15 minutes at the simmer so they retain their colour and, more importantly, crunch.

You might want to return the lamb to the oven for a few minutes to heat it through again, but it’s not really worth it – if you have covered it with a reasonably tight seal it will hold the heat from its cooking while the potatoes are doing.  If it needs a quick heat up, give it ten minutes in the oven on the bottom shelf, and time it so that the meat can come out ten minutes before your potatoes are ready.  Once you’re happy, place the meat on a chopping board to rest.  Skim the fat off of the juices in the roasting tin, and place on the hob.  Add a pint of lamb stock, a glass of red wine, and some bisto or plain flour for thickening.  Bring to the boil, and then return to the simmer until everything else is ready.

Using the two fork technique, shred the shoulder up to in big chunks, and serve with a big fruity red wine or, as I did, with a lovely cold bottle of Hobgoblin Ale. 

Mouth-wateringly tender meat...

Shown sans gravy, but still a beautiful sight...

Sooner or later, you will have meaty juices running down your chin, you’ll be talking and laughing with your companions and you will know, as you take another sip of beer to wash down that lovely tender meat, that you have made something that is truly wonderful – a brilliant, North African twist on a classic British mealtime.  If you want to forego the British element, drop the gravy and the vegetables and serve with a big old pile of spiced couscous for a more authentic African flavour.

I do hope that this recipe, and the accompanying pictures, has got your saliva glands working overtime.  Why not get out there this weekend and give it a try?  You won’t be disappointed.  Please let me know if I’m writing about roasts too much – they’re something that I really care about and what they represent to me is very important…  the coming together of family and friends around a dinner table to share good food, good wine, and each other’s company.  There’s very little in this life that is more important than that. 

Have a great week, and a brilliant weekend.  I’ll see you next time with more big flavours, impressive food, and minimal faffing.