Recipe Thursday: Roasted Lamb (Moroccan Mechoui) Over the Fire

Ok, this is really an inspiration from a mash-up of 2 Paula Wolfert’s recipes from her Mediterranean Claypot Cooking book. I have been a massive Wolfert fan for years and years (I’m sure I tell you this all the time) and have collected a few of her intense tomes. The Slow-Mediterranean Cookbook is really stunning but generally out of my financial reach (as many reductions call for as much food as to feed a family of 5, only to be thrown out after reducing), but I find a lot of gems in Mediterranean Grains & Greens and I couldn’t survive without my copy of CousCous.

And I do this sometimes, I think my best artichoke/spinach/crab dip recipe are the 2 (and sometimes 3) consequetive recipes for such things in The Joy of Cooking, all of them, together. This one is like that — where I have a bit of this, a bit of that, the cooking is from one, the method from the other, and the two were handfasted and now reside on my plate. So, this below is the lovechild of Tile-Roasted Lamb Shepherd’s Style and Moroccan Mechoui…I chose to head it under the latter since it covers the cut of the meat and the stronger spices.

We also really really wanted to start our Summer goal of cooking over the firepit — we put up (freezing, canning, fermenting) so much last year we need to eat it down in order to get ready for this year’s harvests, which we’re using this method to get through. We have a tripod to hang a pot (or piece of meat over a pot), or a cauldron, or a big pot you can put right into the coals (we recommend cast iron, it gets hot but bakes/roasts pretty evenly), and a grill over it so there are many options to cook over a fire. Josh loves the added elemental flavor, the extra grittiness to the dish — it feels real, and connected, and frankly, freaking delicious. We are also trying to get through the last of our lamb from the Winter, and have the big bits and the weird bits left. Cooking over a fire makes all this possible in easy ways. We highly recommend it!

Moroccan Mechoui

Serves 6

  • 1 bone-in Lamb Shoulder (about 5 lbs), trimmed of excess fat & scored
  • 1 Garlic clove, minced
  • 2 tsp Sea Salt
  • 1 Stick of Tbsp Unsalted Butter, 4Tbsp at just room temp, and 4Tbsp cut into pats
  • 1 1/2 Tbsp ground Coriander
  • 2 tsp ground Cumin
  • 1 tsp Smoke Paprika (sweet or hot, your desire)
  • 1 tsp freshly ground Black Pepper
  • 2 tsp Greek Oregano
  • 2 cups (or more if desired) of Fregola, cook as directed (2 cups of water to 1 cup of Fregola), alternatively potatoes or bread or classic Couscous
  • 2 Medium Vidalia Onions (or 3 Med Shallots, or 2 Med Leeks, even frozen), chopped coarsely
  • And then clear out your frozen/canned veggies: we used a bag (1/2#) of frozen Scapes, and 3# of Whole frozen Tomatoes (they freeze great whole! or we slice them/roast them with garlic, olive oil, and herbs and then freeze them);

Last year we did this and also threw in that random bag of Zucchini (doesn’t freeze that great), canned Green Beans, frozen Pell Peppers, and chopped fresh Potatoes (unless using couscous, which I guess you could still throw in potatoes, especially if you have a crowd to feed)…we’ve also tossed in (generally with the tomatoes, they make a nice liquid to not burn everything) frozen and fresh Kale and the incessant bags of kale stems that I keep, all kinds of stuff you think will roast up nice in a tomato stew, essentially. It becomes like a decadent Ratatouille. Or medium button size Mushrooms, whole.

A few hours before cooking: Take all the spices and the 4Tbsp of room temp butter and combine (best with your hands or a fork) and rub into the scoring of the Lamb (it’s fine to put it into the pot you’re going to cook in and let rest for a couple of hours if you can.

Set up the tripod or grill and the fire, get it to where there are nice slow coals so you can bank them up or remove them when needed. When ready toss in remaining butter (in pats) and chosen vegetables, set the lid all the way on if you are putting in the pot or hang meat with a meathook from the tripod over the vegetables (then either on a grill above the fire or hanging from the tripod). At this point we put the Lamb in the pot with the veg and hung over the coals on the tripod, you could equally put the whole pot into the fire and keep coals low and slow (and can even put them on the lid in the right cast iron pot) and cooked over the fire for 2-3 hours (depending on how slow your coals are, we could’ve probably gone a little slower but it turned out extravagent, nonetheless). You only need an inner temp of 140degreesF on the meat which you will probably get pretty easy, if it cooks slow enough it will keep the meat soft. Keep an eye on the liquid, you need enough so as not to burn the veggies or the meat and then as much as you want it to be stewlike, we chose a thick sort of stew to stir into the fregola…turn the meat occassionally to test its tenderness.

Remove from heat. We didn’t cook the fregola as per directions but threw it into the pot with extra water to absorb but leave a little movement (I might recommend 3:1, liquid to fregola). Or serve with bread/wide egg noodles/couscous, etc. And serve with a vinaigrette or lemon green salad or fresh pickles to brighten the unctiousness.

This is going to be a very good Summer.

The Happenings on Tuesday: Redeux

We’re getting to a place where we need to rethink our systems. Pretty much all of them: homesteading, parenting, the shop, our creative endeavors, our eating habits…what we thought was a goal is now either satisfied or will not come to be. I’m not one to think of success or failure as measures — the practice is the key, if we choose to acknowledge what we have learned from it, it’s all good. And it is good to reevaluate. Our needs change, so should the way we go about them.

So, we’re tweaking all of the things. Some changes to the way we view how we want to work with the world — the shop is about community-building so we will add to our partnerships, pare down extraneous busyness and complication (I prefer complexity over complication), and keep trying to work with folks who want to work with us. The homestead has proved to be challenging in ways we weren’t expecting; I can’t spend the time or energy in growing everything and it obviously wants to grow what it wants when it wants, so we will be more subject to the things that are favorable to the changing conditions here (blackberries, grapes, perennial herbs, small mixed gardens — not apples, not elderberries, not pumpkins, not corn) and more foraging opportunities. No laying chickens for now (perhaps more meatbirds next Summer) and we are converting the coop to a garden shed. I don’t feel like we are failures, we are just adjusting our expectations and designing better outcomes for us at this time.

Meanwhile, the Sage blooms, the late Lilac entices the Swallowtails, the Peas grow, the Peonies open, the Multiflora Rose hedge gets ready for its yearly debut (only lasting for a week) and I will get the rest of the Beans in today, the Pepper plants, seed the Tatsoi/Pak Choi bed, put up some more Tomato buckets (going for buckets this year, we’ll see), plant the rest of the Calendula, the Dahlia, the Strawflowers, Celosia, Gomphrena, Poppies, and whatever else I have as little babies (many herbs: Horehound, Basil of 6 flavors, Ashwaganda, Feverfew) and seeds (Sunflowers, Chamomile, Thyme).

And we’ll just see. We’ll see what sticks when we reassert some interest and change.

Duendesday: end of Spring fun

{life with a curious and crazy almost 14 yr old}

Yes, the weather says it is Summer but if we named things by how the weather changes we would miss the planetary, solar, and lunar alignments and that is important, too. And we would be naming a lot more things (though, I do like randomly naming things just for the heck of it but it drives me a little crazy every year when people call the Solstice midsummer, which is in August and a very important celebration for us) but it is still Spring, at least for a couple of weeks. The Summer Solstice is a lovely time to feel the lushness of the days.

As we lead up to it, Duende has been out and about more. Rollerskating, of course, on Tuesday-delivery-day (though she misses her old roller skating partner at the park), badminton and archery in the backyard (though she needs an actual bow, she has a little handmade one but she’s too big for it now, but not yet big enough for Josh’s, though she does her best), and the other day J and she busted out the old bikes from the garage to start working on them (she has some detailing dreams now). Today she is mowing and making bracelets (she even made herself a platform with hooks to help her, and now she’s adding beads and buttons). She found a splash pad, a sprinkler, and Betty’s kiddie pool to get a little water play in, too. Then Betty came by to cool off!!! It was as if she invoked her; my wonderful little wytch.

She was happy to hit the Ice Cream Shoppe in Randolph for a first ice cream cone out of the season (though I don’t know who she is kidding, she gets ice cream cones from Goldfinch Creamery & Cafe all the time now but it’s a tradition we go out for family ice cream from time to time by the river).

I’m going to guess this Summer will be more of the same though with a visit from Grammy, a birthday by the end of the month, and a camping trip after true Midsummer.

The days were made for playing.

Tuesday Happenings: Planting

Working on getting the garden going some more (putting many beans and peppers and flowers in, tilling and putting corn in a new stretch, settling on a hops fence which also shapes a new garlic bed and will get us to remake the white grape fencing by Fall), potting my tomatoes this year (I will have a year without hornworms!!!), and converting the chicken coop into a garden shed. I’m jealous of all the lovely sheds I’ve seen lately (living in the fantasy world of #shedlife) and having laying chickens again, as much as I miss them, is more work than I need to do (though I’m already planning on a batch of meat birds next year). We interrupted some daft little Song Sparrows nesting in the grass next to the garden the other day — little fledglings running for the trees!! I suppose that’s what they get for nesting there (ha!, no, I was worried all day after).

Also, working on the lovely board of the Good Life Center, the educational homestead of Scott & Helen Nearing, and feeling positive about getting them more visibility and support. As I write about the Nearings, I get to work directly with preserving their legacy, keeping it a living practice of social justice and simple living. I wish I could go to Harborside (I’ve only been once, and it’s quite lovely) more often. They have great workshops, a Summer speaker series, and a stewardship program — if you haven’t checked it out, you should. There are many ripples from their work you are likely familiar with.

We’ve got some Rhubarb Compote to whip up for the shop, new publisher partnerships to embark upon, events to schedule, pamphlets to create, and as always, not enough time to get it all together and feel like we have down time. Today is really our Friday (which we now call Fruesday, or something crazy like that) so as we get to our weekend, we get to all of the things we don’t get to do while we’re at work.

Recipe Thursday: Apothecary

I don’t advertise myself as an herbalist or natural healer but I have been working in the research and development of healing processes for over 15 years. I’ve taken classes and workshops with renowned herbalists, alternative and holistic healers, attended conferences and worked as a natural health advisor (for over 6 years). I grow and forage for my own medicinals and source others from reputable places. I have herbalist friends! And I seek out much knowledge and practices from around the world. Even as a teen (many many moons ago) I gravitated toward making my own teas and growing my own herbs, I was very limited then but the drive and desire for the knowledge and plant connection was there.

I believe deeply in our own ability to heal ourselves from nearly anything (save losing a limb, radiation poisoning, or other acute conditions) or at least minimizing the damage and supporting our systems, if given the right tools. It’s not that I don’t believe in allopathic healing; I just think it is used more often than it should be (it is emergency medicine, not preventative or supportive, it is also cascading and makes itself self-reliant). There are many types of holistic care — many of which I prefer to go to experienced healers for (much bodywork takes years to understand and complete pictures of not just the human body but an individuals own experiential and physical make up — I admire and am amazed by the dedicated work of these folks), but for the day to day, I can manage many of my own (and my family’s) needs.

I also believe that plants, especially (and especially in our shared space and time), have a knowledge of what we (and they) need, as well. In a time of deep respiratory concern (whether from pollution or viral), Mullein, Nettles, Plantain, and Goldenrod appear near and ready. Close by a patch of Poison Ivy, many times Jewelweed (the cure and mitigation) grows. From my own experience of my severe lymph issues, I was happy to learn about Cleavers (which then began to grow in great patches of my field, along with never before seen Milk Thistle). And we can enhance these medicinals with plantings of our own (since much of our ‘wild’ medicines have been eradicated from their native places and free sowings) like Echinacea, Elderberry, and Bee Balms. Last year, my body (and mind) was finally ready to tackle some big shifts and maintain some equilibrium and St. Johns Wort began growing in my herb garden.

This is not to say I think there is a sentient being bestowing blessings upon me, but I don’t believe in coincidence, either. I am not one to believe there is a reason for everything that attends to a great and culminating design, however, I think there are reasons by many agencies unbeknownst to us at any given time — so, not a design, per se, but decisive or called for directions (most having nothing to do with us humans). Such as the natural conditions of Jewelweed are also the natural conditions for Poison Ivy (because the cure and the ill are not just about humans) and that they offer each other support in a way I do not know that just happen to benefit me (but not me, because my body is unaffected by the urushiol, surprisingly since my body also naturally attracts so freaking many things out in the world trying to eat me or give me rashes).

And I struggle with folks who fight the idea that there are herbal medicinals because simply put: 1) where do you think the original medicines came from and 2) why do you bother to eat apples or anything you think is ‘good for you’ if you don’t believe it affects you. So, with that said, last Summer and Fall I put up tinctures of St. Johns Wort, Lemon Balm, Evening Primrose (root, flower, and seed), Hawthorn, Cleavers, dried Red Clover blossoms and Raspberry Leaf, Monarda, Yarrow, Boneset, Mullein, Caledula, more Cleavers and Usnea. I sourced some Antler Reishi (and got some Hemlock Shelf beauties yesterday from a friend!) and Chaga, dried Elderberries, Skullcap, Milky Oats, and Lavender. I like tinctures, teas, and baths though I have a friend who makes elixirs and another who likes capsules. There are many plants and stages of plants I prefer fresh and that is where my daily and seasonal foraging comes into play — I never believe that what I eat is just food. It should all be medicine and all has an effect.

This year I’m hoping to add more barks and roots to my medicines (likely willow and witch hazel, maybe prickly ash, buckthorn, and wild cherry, as well along with burdock, mallow, and sarsaparilla). And I’ve added Horehound, Ashwaganda, and Vervain to my garden.

My beautiful Tulips (J & D) made me some apothecary shelves a couple of years ago which I store all my goods, plus many herbal books, tools, tea making supplies, etc. They help me take good care of myself and them. I’m onto drying and tincturing that new Reishi and being in the garden today to get ready for new plant babies.

Duendesday: Re-visitations

{life with a curious and crazy almost 14 yr old}

Spring has sprung in a most summery way this week — the yard is instantly lush and needs mowing weekly (much to D’s preference), weeds are eclipsing growing plants, and the garden is still late to get in (though it seems as if it was late before it even needed to begin). Duende is out and about in sun dresses and sun screen already.

Yesterday, D & Dad decided to build a slackline to master, embark on the mountainboard (skateboard with fat tready tires), play ‘push the idiot off the log’ (their game of standing on the log bench at the firepit and trying to knock one another off, ho hum) amidst cleaning out the garage, gardening, and yes, mowing. This after a big weekend of seeing lovely friends from VT that we haven’t seen in too many years (any years is too many); the girls got along great and I know D misses Isa already. We also had a nice little pizza party with new friends, chosen family, and guests while they were here.

The girls were so funny together. I is a couple of years younger than D but you can’t really tell, she’s a mature and sweet little thing and D manages to retain her wonderment despite entering into teenhood. It was a good match. They made us a couple of rhubarb cakes (different recipes, both delicious) and entertained us with rhubarb dances, foraged for lilacs and made lilac syrup, drew together, danced more together, swapped book suggestions/game reviews; I think a good time was had by all. I enjoyed watching them together (see some great throwback to now pics). Supercute.

Meanwhile, Duende has to get back to figuring out her school placement. She has her teacher assessment in a month so we have a little time to get her to prepare for classes in the Fall. I was very helpful in making D feel like she could manage it all. What are friends for?!!

Tuesday Happenings: Growing

Somedays it is hard to tell if they are growing pains or growing pleasants but I’m going to focus on the latter today. We’ve seen some lovely developments of character, community, and focus happening inspiring us to be able to move forward.

We did some amazing networking last week with a group who understand the need for small community development, and by that, we all understood to mean in relation. Community, for some, is just a group of people who live in a similar place, who pay taxes in the same town and have a say in the way they prefer their side of the street, or school, or downtown. But a community is a reciprocal relationship where people listen to each other’s values and try to come to not just an understanding but a place which supports each other (provided those values are safe for all). A community shows up for each other. A community communicates. They commune.

They share resources and knowledge, time and energy. We like that. And we very much appreciate it when we can access it. It uplifts everyone. Why wouldn’t you want that?

I think in some facets, the pandemic broke people’s spirits and ability to be there for each other. There seems to be a blind spot added to the struggles we already faced in taking care of underrepresented folks, now it is almost harder to get people to show up for each other. People are scared, people are wary. We very much want to create space and time and energy for folks to show up for each other.

Our membership program proves to us that people are willing to commit to show up for each other. Some people still feel the ability, they are able to make it happen — others need some time, or care, or to know that is ok, and that there is a place for them. Our alliances with such groups as the Hallowell Pride Alliance, The Good Life Center, the Wabanaki Mobile Food Pantry, and especially all of our small press publishers, authors, artists, farmers, and small food makers make us better because they are in a relation with us. And not just a retail relation — we know each other by name, we talk about our kids, we help each other out and support our struggles, we promote and protect our people. We look forward to more partnerships and relations.

Because in every facet of our lives, we don’t do it alone. We are not self-sufficient, in any way. We depend on friends, family, our neighborhoods, the farmers, the people at the grocery store, the microbiome in our bodies, the water in the air and ground, and the affective life we lead influencing our every decision and ability to survive. We are never alone, even when we feel that we are — it is impossible. However, how we choose to focus on the positive aspects of our belonging is key also to our survival and ability to thrive. Let me say it again — we are not self-sufficient. We need each other.

And it is so wonderful when you meet folks that understand and promote that. We thank you. We appreciate you so much. And we look forward to doing many fun things and important work with you.