Leg Of Lamb

This Flintstonian cut is impressive, and the bone lends flavor as the meat braises. But if you prefer, a boneless tied leg of lamb is a little more manageable and cooks more quickly.

Lamb is a classic at Easter, particularly leg of lamb. Increasingly, though, lamb legs are sold boned, or even better, boned and butterflied, which makes them ideal for summer grilling. But for Easter, a boneless lamb leg (readily available at the big-box stores) becomes something irresistible to stuff, and because there's no bone, it's a dream to carve. Here, we season the meat all over with a garlicky, lemon- and oregano-scented paste, then spread a flavorful, wilted-arugula filling over the lamb and roll it up. Don't be dismayed by the ragtag appearance of the uncooked roast. Just tie it securely and you will be amazed at how delicious it looks when it comes out of the oven. The vegetables surrounding the lamb not only absorb some of the lamb juices but also create a complete and nutritious meal in a roasting pan. Editor's Note: This recipe is part of Gourmet's Modern Menu for Easter. Menu also includes Frisée, Radicchio, and Fennel Salad with Mustard Vinaigrette; and Lemon Pudding with Strawberries and Meringue Cigars.

I really prefer the texture of fresh pappardelle with the savory lamb stew; it just seems to absorb the flavors better. If you can’t find fresh pappardelle, though, the dried kind is perfectly acceptable, and it’s good to have on hand to toss with any leftover braised meats and their braising liquid for a quick, warming meal.

Until fairly recently the best lamb was a luxury that could be found only in spring. Today, modern farming techniques make such lamb available year-round, although many of us still keep to tradition, preparing a roasted leg of lamb on Easter or Passover. The term “leg of lamb” generally refers to the hind leg and hip of the animal. Though the cut can be pricey, it is very straightforward to prepare, even for the novice home cook. For this recipe, the lamb is “larded” with slivers of garlic along with fresh rosemary and thyme, to infuse it with flavor. The pan sauce is flavored with Dijon mustard and red wine, then thickened with a paste of equal parts softened butter and flour. This classic thickener is called buerre manie, and is often used to thicken stews and braises, including the cider-braised pork on page 183.

Butterflying a leg of lamb produces a more uniform thickness, furthered by pounding, so the meat cooks evenly from end to end. It also creates more surface area for grilling, so that more of the meat takes on a charred taste. In this recipe, the lamb is marinated to infuse it with herbal flavors, but you could simply season it with no more than salt and pepper before grilling.

Large cuts of meat are often stuffed after being boned. Here, fresh mint, pistachios, and lemon juice bring Middle Eastern flavors to lamb.

The stew can be made without dried limes or lime powder; just use the 1/2 cup lime juice called for as a substitute for the powder.

This great-tasting dish from Joanne Weir takes you back to medieval times and spit-roasting at the hearth. You can also roast it over a grill or roast in an oven. This version is flavored with Greek herbs and served with a yogurt-cucumber sauce. Accompany with Pita Bread (page 44).

The hefts of lamb, perfumed with aromatics and roasted over a wood fire, speak of a primordial innocence. Make a feast of them. Bake some pettole (page 153) and offer a great wedge of young pecorino and a jug of honest red wine.

La Coscia della Sposa (The Bride’s Thigh). Once upon a time, the panarda was a rustic sort of feast hosted by a farmer for his neighbors and friends, for his tribe. A feast whose substance was bread and lard—pane e lardo—the words meshed, dialectically, as panarda. Lard was a precious comestible, a potent winter fuel that could keep a body whole up there in the mountains. Thus, if a family had a pig to slaughter, it was a family blessed. And if this family was wont to share its sainted beast, even if only the herb-scented renderings of his fat spread on a trencher of honest bread, it was a festival cheered. Time and greater plenty swelled the proportions of the panarda, it growing into a flushed reveling, a Pantagruelian episode staged by one who desired to give thanks for some plague disarmed, some spiritual wound soothed. The panarda became a gastronomic pageant, a devout rite of Christendom quickened with mystical invocations—a duality, then and now, with which the Abruzzesi are at their ease. A wake, a wedding, a generous harvest, an homage—all these became motives to unfurl the festival, to illuminate, throughout its thirty courses, the inextinguishable Abruzzese ebullience. So fraught is the feast with the host’s honor and the honor of his forebears that guests at his panarda must take to heart the intricacies of the culture into which they have entered. He who does not is imperiled. Stories are recounted of one or another unwitting stranger, who, by the twenty-fifth or twenty-eighth plate, begged his leave from the table. It was then that the barrels of primitive muskets were leaned against the temple of the blunderer, these inspiring, pell-mell, the rediscovery of his appetite. Still, today, when one sits at a panarda table, one is bound to partake of any and all that is set before him. To this, I make personal testimony. Our induction into the rites of the panarda was at a country wedding near the city of L’Aquila, its thirty-two courses presented to nearly two hundred celebrants. Here follow the two dishes I loved best, the first for its straightforward symbolism and display of the ticklish Abruzzese humor, the second for its pure, seminal goodness.

This gutsy lamb dish pays homage to two camps of Latin cooking: Mexico and Spain. The lamb is stuffed with a mixture of toasted breadcrumbs and a fresh, spicy Mexican sausage called chorizo. Traditionally stirred into scrambled eggs or used as a filling for gorditas, the chorizo infuses the stuffing with its piquant character. The Spanish accents come from the olives and the romesco, a classic Catalan sauce of puréed chiles, garlic, tomatoes, nuts, and fried bread. Just as the lamb absorbs the spiciness of the chorizo stuffing while it roasts in the oven, the robust romesco saturates the potatoes as they sauté.

If you like to wow your friends with your backyard cooking prowess, this is one showboatin’ dish you’ll want to try out. I like what happens when you marinate lamb in yogurt. The enzyme action in the yogurt does something special to the meat, tenderizing it and giving it an exotic allure.

Eduardo Pria, a 2002 Workshop participant and Mexico City native, is probably the most passionate chef we have ever had at the Workshop. He was overjoyed to be at the winery and expressed it with frequent hugs for all, usually coupled with an enthusiastic “I love you, man!” The Argentinian chimichurri sauce that Eduardo made for Don Watson’s lamb was as exhilarating as he is. Brian has used the sauce frequently over the years, adapting it along the way. Prepared quickly in a blender, it is a vivid emerald green and like pesto in texture, with a fresh, zingy taste. It complements almost any grilled red meat—from leg of lamb to hanger steaks, flatiron steaks, or pork chops. Add roasted fingerling potatoes and Blistered Cherry Tomatoes (page 157) for an ideal summer meal. We also like chimichurri with grilled summer vegetables, such as zucchini, eggplant, and peppers. You can make the sauce a few hours ahead, but plan to use it the same day. It loses zip with time. Note that the lamb needs to marinate for at least two hours.

Marinating is a wonderful way to tenderize leg of lamb and other less expensive (and tougher) cuts of meat before grilling or broiling. Grilled lemons and lemon orzo complement the robust lamb.

THIS RICH LAMB STEW is perfect for cold winter nights. It leaves out the traditional potato in favor of mushrooms and oregano, which provide a wonderful earthy flavor. A final twist comes in the addition of soy sauce, which intensifies the taste of this satisfying dish.

GOOD TO KNOW Kebabs are a good way to incorporate vegetables into from-the-grill dinners. They also allow you to use a small amount of a high-fat food, such as the chorizo in the pork kebabs, to maximum effect. If using wooden skewers, soak them in water for thirty minutes before grilling.

Leg of lamb cooks well either on the bone or boned. The price per pound will be more when boned, but the advantage is that it makes it very easy to slice and carve for serving. Have it tied by the butcher, or do it yourself at home. Roast lamb is traditionally served with beans, such as green flageolet or cannellini, and for a very good reason: They are a perfect combination.