Ian and I have been quite the holiday jet setters since our inception as a couple. We have spent holidays in West Palm Beach, Asheville, North Carolina, good old Brooklyn, and even Mexico (ah Christmas in Mexico, hands down the BEST trip I have ever taken, details for another time, another blog entry). Strangely, we have not been able to head back to my roots, Kenosha, Wisconsin (a medium size “suburb” of Chicago right over the Wisconsin/Illinois border) for a holiday since we’ve been together.
My family is big on tradition. Mom and Pop sill decorate our Christmas tree not with fashionable color coordinated tinkling ornaments, but with cardboard evergreens pasted with cheerios painted red and yellow (Liesl and my handiwork from many moons ago), psychedelic colored wooden ornaments my parents painted on their first Christmas married, and, well, you get the sentimental picture. We have “normal” traditions like watching A Christmas Story on Christmas Eve, and not so normal ones, like giving blood at the local blood center Christmas Eve day. What we don’t have is a specific food tradition on Christmas Day. So, this year, I decided to take a cue from Ian’s family and make the famous Ogden Family Leg of Lamb.
Drama #1: Ordering the Meat
In New York City, in large part, we live like Europeans - food shopping wise. We don’t have the space for expansive grocery Mega-marts. So, instead we have small grocery stores that have staples (but are not necessarily known for their meat, produce or fish), outdoor green markets, small butcher shops, fish mongers, cheese shops, candy stores, and the like. It’s all very continental. However in Kenosha, Wisconsin they have the Mega-most of mega-groceries stores, Woodman’s. . .and that’s where you get everything. And in their football field upon football field expanse, it does seem like the really do have everything. However, if you want a specific kind of large cut of meat, you generally have to call ahead to get the exact cut and size you want. I put this mighty task in Mom’s hands. Let’s just say she was bamboozled. The probably well-meaning grocer she spoke to decided that she needed a partially-boneless leg of lamb, not an actual whole bone-in leg. Well, that’s just plain blasphemy to any chef. Why would I EVER want to get rid of a perfectly wonderful flavor packed bone for holly’s sake? And even if I did want to take a bone out of something, by Scrooge, I can do that my self, thank you very much.
Luckily, I caught wind of the folly before it was too late, made a call myself, and gave that grocer what for. Well, actually, I just calmly told him we wanted the full bone-in leg and he said sure, no “what for” was really necessary.
Drama #2 Will there be enough?
Now, judging the amount of lamb for the traditional Ogden Family Leg of Lamb is quite similar to judging the amount of turkey you need for Thanksgiving. The actual amount you calculate is needed to eat at the big holiday meal is really only about 30% of the meat you actually need to order. For, of course, there are sandwiches. Lamb sandwiches made late Christmas night, the next day, the next, and so forth, hopefully, can arguably overshadow the big meal itself. There is a specific way to make them, and they are sublime. You must cook chunks of lamb in a sauté pan in butter until they are heated through with a little color on the outside. Pile these warm scrumptious pieces on whole grain sandwich bread with mayo and raw sliced red onion. Enjoy easily one of the best sandwiches you will ever have.
Drama #3 Will it, could it, ever really be as good as grandma’s/mom’s?
I’m sure Jacques Pepin and Thomas Keller don’t cook as well as their mothers and certainly not as well and their grandmothers. Maybe that’s not entirely true, but I’m positive there is at least one dish passed down through the generations that try as they might they just can’t quite do as well as their maternal linage. My grandma’s ace in the hole is pork roast and gravy, and my mom’s cheese pie is impossible to replicate. So, could I hope, even with years of culinary curiosity and my recent culinary training, I could even come close to those hallowed legs of the Ogden family’s past?
Well, it was delicious. The lamb was succulent and the potatoes that cook along with the roast were lusciously rich. All in all, it was a success. My family was all compliments, as was Ian. I have a sneaking suspicion though, knowing what I know, what I’ve come to terms with, it was not quite as good as the Ogden women’s. I’m o.k. with that. I have to be. . .
Ogden Family Leg of Lamb
Whole leg of lamb
Fresh Garlic, chopped fine (as much as you can stand, don’t be shy)
Dried Rosemary (fresh really doesn’t work)
Paprika
Small, waxy potatoes, such as Red Bliss, peeled and cut in quarters or thirds
Olive oil (not extra virgin) or Neutral oil (canola, etc.)
Preheat the oven to 325
Rub the lamb with oil. Rub the lamb with lots of garlic, a sparing amount of rosemary, plenty of salt and pepper (make sure to salt it well, it is a big piece of meat), and dust with paprika. Place lamb fat side up in a roasting pan (without a rack) and cover the pan with foil. Roast the lamb for about 30 minutes per pound until thermometer inserted in the meatiest part of the leg reaches 165.
While roasting, parboil the potatoes until they are about ¾ of the way done (remember always start potatoes in cold water and just add a little salt to the water-the salt can break down the potato). Drain the potatoes and set aside to fully dry. In the last hour of cooking the lamb add the potatoes to the bottom of the pan, rolling around in all the juices. Also, at this time, take the foil off the roasting pan. Every 15 minutes in this last hour turn the potatoes so each side gets covered in the juices. For the last 30 minutes of cooking, if the lamb is not sufficiently browned, turn the oven up to 400 to brown the meat. When the lamb reaches 165 and the potatoes are tender, take the roasting pan out of the oven. Take the lamb out of the pan to rest 15-30 minutes before carving (leave the potatoes in the pan and cover with foil to keep them warm). Carve in the lamb in big chunks, not slices.
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