Lamb with chick peas
Lamb with chick peas
“This food...is as suited for eating on a table in the garden, as it is for a windows-shut, curtains-closed dinner inside” (Nigella, p386).
I mentioned last week that I was back to school on Monday 1st September, with my own class to prepare for and teach for the first time. Well, I say Monday, but Monday and Tuesday were training days. The children came back for their first day on Wednesday. So now – I suppose – my HTE blog changes somewhat. Okay, each meal doesn’t represent a languorously pondered over, fully thought-out, semi-feast anymore, but you can bet that each meal will be much more anticipated and enjoyed as representing my one day a week of rest and relaxation, good food and good wine and quality time spent with Christopher. Yes, I will have less time to shop around for ingredients, but the end product – I can assure you – will be no less gratefully received. With less free time now, some people might find it strange that I consider cooking a pleasure and – dare I say it? – a treat. But I do. I always have done and I always will do I suppose. I simply find preparing a meal very relaxing and satisfying. For me, there is no accomplishment quite the same as quietly devoting some kitchen pottering to slowly preparing a meal and then seeing it come together on the table. And that doesn’t even factor in the sheer delight of eating it! An idyllic and probably old-fashioned notion I do see, and certainly not one that I would even attempt to strive for during the week – I dread to think how many times Chris resorts to carbonara or frozen pizzas Monday-Friday – but I wouldn’t be being true to myself if most of my lazy Saturdays weren’t devoted to cooking.
It wouldn’t be right if I didn’t give you at least a brief update of how my first few days as a teacher (albeit an NQT – Newly Qualified Teacher) actually went. I am lucky to have a genuinely lovely class with some really charming characters and (most of) the children are a real joy to work with. I did have some tears on the first day, but they quickly dried up and I think (or am desperately hoping – you work it out!) that the children are settling into my class. There was a lot of work to get through in those first few days. In Year 2, we stream the children into literacy and numeracy sets, and so it is paramount that we assess them very quickly, so that we can start teaching them accordingly. This meant that in the space of three short days, we had to administer a spelling test, a writing test and a numeracy test. They coped with it very admirably though (I dread to think how I would have reacted at 6 years old to that injustice!) and I finished up the week nicely with golden time on a Friday afternoon. Here’s hoping that next week (my first full week) goes as well.
This week’s meal is not only my first meal made by me as a teacher, but it also marks the end of the chick pea section. I can’t quite believe that since coming off my diet, I have managed to cook my way through an entire section of HTE (bar those recipes which I had already cooked)! It is probably obvious from reading the last few posts, but I have really enjoyed the recipes in this section of HTE. It would be fair to say that they make me nostalgic. They are evocative of a chick pea-saturated childhood I suppose, but the recipes have also re-reminded me of the taste and utility of chick peas as an ingredient. Already, I have began to use them more around the house; making Chris a chick pea mash last week, and throwing some remaining tinned ones into a wilted spinach pilau rice just last night. Chris, too, is also a complete convert. Where once he probably wouldn’t have given chick peas a second thought, he now loves them almost as much as I do and enjoys eating them whenever I cook them. In all honesty, I can’t see him soaking and cooking his own dried chick peas (I don’t think his appreciation of them justifies the perceived effort), but I do know that he has experienced a full-scale turnaround regarding ones which have been cooked for him. I don’t consider this reminder the only thing gleaned from this section however. The section has also given me some fabulous recipes, which I assure you I will make again and again. Certainly, I cannot fail but make the cherried and chick pea’d couscous, the chicken and chick pea tagine, the chick pea and pasta soup, the chick peas with sorrel and even a variation of the hummus with seared lamb and toasted pine nuts again. Sometimes, one has neither the time nor the inclination to soak dried chick peas, and there are some wonderful recipes for tinned chick peas in this section (both the cherried and chick pea’d couscous and the chick peas with sorrel are marvellous recipes and highly recommended by me). When I do soak and cook the dried ones, HTE has introduced me to that fantastic tenderising paste which I keep banging on about. Only a paste made from flour, salt and bicarb (if I remember correctly), but it makes for the most tender and buttery chick peas imaginable. Indeed, no matter what recipe containing dried chick peas I follow in the future, I must use that tenderising paste. This section has also helped me to appreciate the value of using chick peas in fragrant stews and tagines (I am thinking now of the chicken and chick pea tagine, but also of the aubergine moussaka). Not only do they bulk out Middle-Eastern (or any province really) dishes, but also add their own wonderful tender nuttiness which cannot help but enhance the dish. As well as adding them to aromatic dishes, this section has also helped me to appreciate their value in a simple, yet mind-blowingly lovely golden soup – the chick pea and pasta soup. And in my mind, that soup recipe should be considered more of a template – an ur-recipe if you will. Certainly, the next time that I make it, I feel that I can have free reign to personalise it and make it my own. Not only this, but this section has shown me that chick peas can also be used as an *ingredient* as any other. That is to say, as part of a different meal (in this case the hummus). Whilst I did have qualms about the meal as it stood, certainly I will be using the hummus part of it again. How could I fail to? I will stop now, but only out of a desire not to bore you (I could go on more, say about the many newly-discovered perfect culinary companions to chick peas. Sorrel, anyone?). Without doubt, I will be hard-pressed deciding on my favourite recipe from this section (although see the bottom of this post for both Christopher’s and my verdict).
This recipe uses chick peas in rather a different way (and I’m glad of that). This recipe for lamb with chick peas advances their status somewhat to utilise them as the main carbohydrate in a loosely defined Middle-Eastern meal. The recipe treats them almost as we Brits might treat potatoes, as the main accompaniment to meat. I am pleased to see them made use of in this way. I have banged on about my addiction to chick peas, but even I haven’t eaten them like this before and I can’t wait. I suppose it is rather a bold way of serving them and certainly I would never cook this recipe for someone who was hesitant about chick peas, but to truly appreciate something is to try it in all its guises, and I have never been more eager to try a recipe in this section than I am now! Plus, I (probably embarrassingly) see this recipe as a “summing up” to the section; a celebration of chick peas, not used in another recipe but (bar some flavoursome additions) alone as a glorious accompaniment to lamb. In actual fact, if you are interested, there seems to be a similar recipe in Nigella Bites, where chick peas are served alongside red bream. And in actual fact, in Nigella Bites, Nigella characteristically describes the notion of serving chick peas with meat (or in this case fish) much more eloquently than I could stumblingly hope to, by writing; “The chick peas...are perfect with the fish or lamb variant too. And the useful thing is that with all the meaty pulsiness of them, you don’t need to bother with potatoes.” Indeed, the recipe in Bites for a “three-course dinner for 8” doesn’t include potatoes. In actual fact, in Bites, Nigella says of the chick peas; “This is the chick pea recipe I return to again and again” and now I see that the recipe in Nigella Bites is almost identical to that in HTE, bar a few variations (namely that she replaces the rosemary with thyme for apparent “aromatic balance with the fish” and adds a few extras to the finished chick peas in NB – onion, more thyme and the suchlike). Predictably, seeing that this is a tried and tested favourite of Nigella’s, makes me desire it all the more!
There are, of course, other reasons that make me long to eat this recipe. As usual, I love all of the additions to the chick peas, but I especially love red chillies. I first started really appreciating the addictive burn of chilli when I cooked the Masala omelette in Nigella Bites, and to this day I adore their fiery heat. Also, this recipe is an accompaniment to lamb, and as I said in the last post, I haven’t cooked many lamb recipes for this blog and those I have cooked have been met with only mixed success (the lamb and bean braise and the cawl for instance). However, eating those tender noisettes cut into lean little rags, reminded me of how much I do love lamb and how much I would like to present a big hunk of it on our dining table (and do see below for evidence of my shamefully extravagant purchase). I think it is the fact that the lamb in this recipe isn’t boiled, but roasted or fried (depending on the cut you opt for), combined with the fact that it is marinated in all manner of gorgeous ingredients (olive oil, garlic, red onion, red chilli) that makes it so appealing to me. And just for my own ego, I would love to say that I have made at least one recipe from the lamb section which was a resounding success (okay, I liked the seared lamb with the hummus, but there were problems)!
In terms of what to serve this meal with, there really is no need to come over all inventive, because the meat and carbohydrate (the chick peas) have already been taken care of. Nigella writes that she sometimes just provides a couple of bowls of finely-chopped red onions for people to sprinkle over the lamb and chick peas, and frankly I was going to do similarly. However, I was flicking through Gordon Ramsay’s “Sunday Lunch” the other night in bed (probably my favourite of Gordon’s books), and was interested to see that Gordon also has a Middle-Eastern-inspired menu - based around saddle of lamb with apricot and cumin stuffing – and part of the vegetable accompaniments to that meal is a particularly glorious sounding recipe for balsamic roasted red onions. I couldn’t help feeling that this recipe qualified as the ideal accompaniment to my menu as it was a.) red onion based (as per Nigella’s serving suggestion) and b.) Suitably Middle-Eastern enough to be an eligible addition to my meal. So, this is our menu: Lamb with chick peas and balsamic roasted red onions. I actually found a wine suggestion in HTE for this meal. John Armit recommends a Californian Zinfandel which apparently has “the aromatic spicy quality to be ideal with this meal” and so I dutifully sought out a bottle.
In terms of quantities, the menu is for 6 and so I halved quantities of the chick peas (yes I know it’s just for the two of us, but I couldn’t be bothered with the maths necessary for further downscaling). I was going to do similarly for the lamb (i.e. halve it), but I let excessiveness and my butcher dictate somewhat here. I’ll let you read about it in the “ingredients” section (whilst I slink away in shame).
Ingredients: The only ingredient in this meal which could be considered at all elusive is the lamb. Frankly, I brought most of mine from Tescos. That said, I did go to the greengrocer for the red onions (for the lamb marinade as well as the balsamic roasted), tomatoes and red chillies, but this is only because there is a really well-stocked greengrocer within walking distance of my school. Nigella writes that you can either use fresh red chillies or dried, and I opted for the former, simply because I much prefer them. You can also use flat-leaf parsley or coriander for sprinkling over at the end and I used the parsley as I felt coriander was somehow more suited to the “garden table” version of this meal. Now, for the lamb. You can either use a whole noisette roll, tied by your butcher (and you *will* need a butcher for both options. I’ve never seen noisettes in any supermarket, although I haven’t ever looked out for them) or individual noisette discs, as I did last week for the lamb component of the hummus meal. Nigella writes that “the former taste better, but the latter look better.” There was a time when I would have opted for beauty over brains, but something about being on a low-calorie diet for 6 months has a curious way of making one appreciate substance over superficiality (!) and so, last week when I brought the noisette discs, I asked my butcher about the possibility of procuring a whole noisette roll. I ordered my noisette roll and popped in after school on Friday to pick it up. Well, it was absolutely bloody massive! There must have been 6 x 400g noisettes on the roll (double that suggested in HTE for 6). I was completely dumfounded and also rather unsure of what to do. You see, I was late leaving school due to an impromptu meeting and I had telephoned the butcher who promised to stay open an extra 10 minutes for me and I didn’t want to further upset this new God-send of a butcher, who basically told me that he will get *any* cut of *any* meat for me as long as I give him a weeks notice and who is really passionate about what he does and admires my passion for food also (apparently, I was the first person to explain in minute detail what it was that I was planning on cooking – complete with wine!) by asking him to stay even later to fiddle around with the lamb. Anyway, in the end my Englishness got the better of me, and I smiled and handed over my debit card. And in actual fact, it wasn’t that expensive (at least, it could have been *much* worse) at £18.00. No, rather what I was worried about was what I was going to *do* with the whole roll. In the end, I decided to carve it in half myself, stash the remaining half in the freezer and marinate and cook the lamb in quantities suggested for 6. That naturally grates on me, after promising myself smaller portion-sizes, but for God’s sake we won’t (can’t!) eat it all and in a guilty frenzy, I have been thinking of all the handy ways to use up leftovers (Chris won’t eat cold roast lamb in sandwiches as he says it gets too greasy). Any ideas would be more than welcome!
Price: Should I factor the lamb into this? *Without* the lamb, the ingredients – the chick peas (I needed a new bag), garlic, onions, rosemary, red chillies, red onions, tomatoes and flat-leaf parsley totalled £6.32, which may seem expensive, but a lot of that came from a greengrocer, I actually brought enough garlic to last us through the week and the red onions were also for the balsamic recipe. I won’t tell you what everything came to *with* the lamb, you can work it out (don’t make me write it!). There were some ingredients (but not many) that I didn’t need to buy, specifically anything for the chick pea tenderising paste (the flour, salt and bicarb), bay leaves and olive oil. I know this seems an expensive haul, and it was. I’ve made my peace with that, so let’s just forget about it now and enjoy the meal!
(The whole noisette roll)
(My rosemary bundle)
Method: You will need to start this the night before you want to eat it, but that doesn’t involve any major prep work, but simply soaking the chick peas in water (and tenderising paste) and marinating the lamb. The marinade for the lamb is really easy to prepare, yet seems absolutely lovely, consisting of olive oil, crushed garlic, chopped red onion and a deseeded and sliced red chilli. Because I had such a massive piece of lamb, I made my marinade in a large freezer bag and added the lamb afterwards, squashing it delightfully around for even coverage. I then transferred the bagged lamb to a plate in the fridge.
Now I have mentioned this before, but I really like a bit of distracting kitchen tinkering and therefore I love recipes which can be cooked in advance. This meal cannot be wholly cooked in advance, but there are things that can be done. Because the chick peas take so long to cook, they can be drained and cooked however early you want to do them (and I always do them at least 5 or 6 hours before I even contemplate serving them). They are cooked alongside some peeled and flattened garlic, a whole peeled onion, bay and rosemary. Again – as for the chick pea and pasta soup – you can’t just throw the rosemary in. It needs to be somehow “bagged” to stop the boiled, bitter needles escaping into the chick pea cooking liquid. In the chick pea and pasta soup post, I mentioned how I did this, but to repeat; I have some muslin brought from the soft-furnishings department of a (then) local department store and I simply cut a square of that and tied the rosemary up in a (admittedly homespun) little pouch. I include a picture if it helps. If you can’t find muslin or simply can’t be bothered to trek around after it, Nigella gives all sorts of alternatives in HTE in her recipe for the soup. The cooking method is essentially the same as it has been for the other dried chick pea recipes – cover with a lid, bring to the boil (do not open, this is essentially guess work), taste after 1 ½ hours not before yadda yadda yadda. Now usually when I check the chick peas after the first 1 ½ they are tender beyond tender and I always wonder why Nigella warns of their lengthy cooking time, but when I checked them at this time today, some of them were a little too hard for my liking. I kept up my simmering-checking ritual a few more times and eventually took them off the heat to drain after about 2 ½ hours. I have no idea why these took longer than normal. I used the same make of dried chick peas as before, the same tenderising paste, even the same saucepan, but whilst I didn’t understand *everything* I was taught in food technology, I do understand the general principle that there are many variables that can effect cooking – the temperature of the room, the time of day, the season etc – so I’ll put it down to variable X. Whatever; they were fine in the end, so who’s counting? The rest of the meal really can’t be done so far in advance. The chick peas are warmed through with their specified aromatics rather nearer to the time that you want to put dinner together. Gordon’s recipe is helpfully accommodating, in the respect that it *can* be made just before you want to eat it (well, it takes over an hour to cook, but you know what I mean), but alternatively you can cook the onions in advance and reheat them prior to serving. I opted for the latter and whilst this isn’t a Gordon blog - nor is it meant to be - , I should credit his recipe by telling you that they are blissfully easy to make.
I will be honest here. I found Nigella’s instructions for cooking the lamb really confusing. On p387, Nigella writes that, if going for the whole-roll option, one should roast the lamb for 20-40 minutes. Okay, that I can do. Then, on p388, she instructs to griddle, grill or sear the meat and then roast it for 10 minutes. Unless, those were instructions meant exclusively for the individual noisette discs. But then, why not make that specific? Oh well. I ignored the later advice and heeded the earlier, by taking the lamb out of its marinade and roasting it for 40 minutes (I opted for the later time as Chris hates pink lamb and I figured that the whole-roll option would ensure that the slices at the end of the roll would be well done, whereas slices cut from the middle of the roll would be much rarer, thus maintaining domestic bliss!). Although Nigella doesn’t mention anything about letting the lamb rest, I always do (out of habit I suppose). Whilst the lamb was resting, after 40 minutes in the oven, I started with the chick peas, which really are the work of moments.
Nigella specifies a large, wide pan for the job and writes that she uses a terracotta pot. I have a suitably large, wide casserole dish which I thought would be appropriate. All you do is heat some oil in the pan, along with some finely chopped garlic and deseeded red chilli, tumble in the cooked chick peas, and add the blanched, peeled, deseeded and chopped tomatoes. To be frank, I had chopped my garlic and chilli and dealt with the tomatoes earlier, when fiddling around with the red onions. Even though it is not hard, peeling and deseeding tomatoes is not my favourite kitchen job (it’s very messy for one thing; those slippery, slimy seeds in their cold gloop seem to get everywhere) and so I like to get it over with as quickly as possible. Cooking the chick peas is very quick and completely effortless, and although you *can* do this slightly in advance and then cover them until you need them, I found it no hassle to complete this final stage whilst the lamb was resting. I then spooned the chick peas out onto a big serving plate and sprinkled over quite a bit (I guess about a tablespoon) of chopped flat-leaf parsley.
In terms of how you choose to serve this, it is of course up to do. Nigella instructs to place the lamb over the chick peas, and indeed I did bring the chick peas and lamb to the table like this. And I do think it looks good like this. It is certainly festive. I did, though, provide a second plate on which Chris could carve the lamb. Neither of us are natural carvers, and I had visions of knives slipping and chick peas flying off the plate and bouncing and rolling around the kitchen!
Now I have mentioned this before, but I really like a bit of distracting kitchen tinkering and therefore I love recipes which can be cooked in advance. This meal cannot be wholly cooked in advance, but there are things that can be done. Because the chick peas take so long to cook, they can be drained and cooked however early you want to do them (and I always do them at least 5 or 6 hours before I even contemplate serving them). They are cooked alongside some peeled and flattened garlic, a whole peeled onion, bay and rosemary. Again – as for the chick pea and pasta soup – you can’t just throw the rosemary in. It needs to be somehow “bagged” to stop the boiled, bitter needles escaping into the chick pea cooking liquid. In the chick pea and pasta soup post, I mentioned how I did this, but to repeat; I have some muslin brought from the soft-furnishings department of a (then) local department store and I simply cut a square of that and tied the rosemary up in a (admittedly homespun) little pouch. I include a picture if it helps. If you can’t find muslin or simply can’t be bothered to trek around after it, Nigella gives all sorts of alternatives in HTE in her recipe for the soup. The cooking method is essentially the same as it has been for the other dried chick pea recipes – cover with a lid, bring to the boil (do not open, this is essentially guess work), taste after 1 ½ hours not before yadda yadda yadda. Now usually when I check the chick peas after the first 1 ½ they are tender beyond tender and I always wonder why Nigella warns of their lengthy cooking time, but when I checked them at this time today, some of them were a little too hard for my liking. I kept up my simmering-checking ritual a few more times and eventually took them off the heat to drain after about 2 ½ hours. I have no idea why these took longer than normal. I used the same make of dried chick peas as before, the same tenderising paste, even the same saucepan, but whilst I didn’t understand *everything* I was taught in food technology, I do understand the general principle that there are many variables that can effect cooking – the temperature of the room, the time of day, the season etc – so I’ll put it down to variable X. Whatever; they were fine in the end, so who’s counting? The rest of the meal really can’t be done so far in advance. The chick peas are warmed through with their specified aromatics rather nearer to the time that you want to put dinner together. Gordon’s recipe is helpfully accommodating, in the respect that it *can* be made just before you want to eat it (well, it takes over an hour to cook, but you know what I mean), but alternatively you can cook the onions in advance and reheat them prior to serving. I opted for the latter and whilst this isn’t a Gordon blog - nor is it meant to be - , I should credit his recipe by telling you that they are blissfully easy to make.
I will be honest here. I found Nigella’s instructions for cooking the lamb really confusing. On p387, Nigella writes that, if going for the whole-roll option, one should roast the lamb for 20-40 minutes. Okay, that I can do. Then, on p388, she instructs to griddle, grill or sear the meat and then roast it for 10 minutes. Unless, those were instructions meant exclusively for the individual noisette discs. But then, why not make that specific? Oh well. I ignored the later advice and heeded the earlier, by taking the lamb out of its marinade and roasting it for 40 minutes (I opted for the later time as Chris hates pink lamb and I figured that the whole-roll option would ensure that the slices at the end of the roll would be well done, whereas slices cut from the middle of the roll would be much rarer, thus maintaining domestic bliss!). Although Nigella doesn’t mention anything about letting the lamb rest, I always do (out of habit I suppose). Whilst the lamb was resting, after 40 minutes in the oven, I started with the chick peas, which really are the work of moments.
Nigella specifies a large, wide pan for the job and writes that she uses a terracotta pot. I have a suitably large, wide casserole dish which I thought would be appropriate. All you do is heat some oil in the pan, along with some finely chopped garlic and deseeded red chilli, tumble in the cooked chick peas, and add the blanched, peeled, deseeded and chopped tomatoes. To be frank, I had chopped my garlic and chilli and dealt with the tomatoes earlier, when fiddling around with the red onions. Even though it is not hard, peeling and deseeding tomatoes is not my favourite kitchen job (it’s very messy for one thing; those slippery, slimy seeds in their cold gloop seem to get everywhere) and so I like to get it over with as quickly as possible. Cooking the chick peas is very quick and completely effortless, and although you *can* do this slightly in advance and then cover them until you need them, I found it no hassle to complete this final stage whilst the lamb was resting. I then spooned the chick peas out onto a big serving plate and sprinkled over quite a bit (I guess about a tablespoon) of chopped flat-leaf parsley.
In terms of how you choose to serve this, it is of course up to do. Nigella instructs to place the lamb over the chick peas, and indeed I did bring the chick peas and lamb to the table like this. And I do think it looks good like this. It is certainly festive. I did, though, provide a second plate on which Chris could carve the lamb. Neither of us are natural carvers, and I had visions of knives slipping and chick peas flying off the plate and bouncing and rolling around the kitchen!
(The lamb in its olive oil, garlic, red onion and red chilli marinade)
(The chick peas after soaking with onion, garlic, bay and rosemary bundle)
(The drained and cooked chick peas)
Result: I’m afraid – as with the last meal that I made – I have to present another mixed review. There were features of this meal that I loved and features that I was less keen on. To summarise, before I go wittering on, I loved the appearance of the meal and the chick peas themselves, but I was less keen on the lamb (both in taste and texture).
The best thing about a meal should never be the appearance (and I always think that when I see these expensive and elaborate restaurant constructions with their ever-bizarre embellishments, which – surely – must have been designed just for visual appeal), but our meal did look absolutely resplendent. There is something about mounds of golden chick peas, with a massive joint of burnished and crispy meat laid atop that just looks so festive and celebratory, but not at all poncey. Rather, this looks like a delicious, but simple, home cooked treat. It looks homely, pure and honest and just brimming with good things. I have talked about the positive symbolism of golden coins of chick peas before, and this – again – didn’t disappoint. I thought that the golden yellow serving plate really came into its own here. It perfectly picked up the golden chick peas and I also love that festivity of primary colours; the yellow of the plate, the red of the tomatoes and the green of the freshly chopped parsley. Yes, this was bold, honest happy food! The chick peas looked wonderful with their various additions. As I say, I loved the sharp red of the finely chopped chillies flecked throughout the chick peas and the more muted, fuzzier red of the peeled and chopped tomatoes. The green-green of the chopped parsley strewed chunkily over the chick peas complimented this brave colour combination. I say this, and it is all true, but in all honesty, I was a little disappointed that the chick peas were a noticeable shade darker than usual. I was a bit perplexed as to why this was, but then reading through Nigella Bites offered me an insight. In NB, Nigella instructs that if cooking chick peas in advance (as I did), one should store them in an airtight Tupperware container, tossing them first in olive oil and salt, to prevent them from drying out. After I had removed mine from the heat, I simply left them in a covered colander. It might have been helpful had this advice been present in HTE. I don’t have a Tupperware container, admittedly, but it would have been nice to know that cooked chick peas *can* dry out and darken, and I would have taken some (albeit homespun) measures to prevent this from happening. I’m not so much of a perfectionist that a few dark chick peas could spoil my enjoyment of the meal, but I love the golden cheerfulness of a plate of buttery blonde chick peas, and I would have loved to preserve that here. No matter. The lamb also looked resplendent in its tightly tied log; the meat crisped and bursting out at the edges and the shiny conker-burnished skin swathed around the outside. Nigella writes that the individual noisette discs look better than the whole noisette roll, but I can’t imagine that. The whole-roll option just looks so celebratory and triumphant. The only thing that I would change about the appearance of the lamb was the encircling layer of fat. I was lucky, because it did actually crisp up very nicely and could hardly be described as pallid, but I love really glossy and crisply-conker brown skin on any meat that sits on my table, and in this spirit, I do think that the outside would have benefited from being seared first in a hot pan. Perhaps this was the advice that Nigella was hoping to impart in the recipe, but the way it is written is so confusing that I think I’m forgiven for any method-related mistakes that I may have made.
In terms of the taste of the chick peas, I honestly could not have been happier. Chick peas are chick peas at the end of the day, and although I am a die-hard supporter of them, there is admittedly only so much one can *do* with them and to them as a foodstuff. I honestly believe that there is nothing more which could have made these nicer (although I cheekily will suggest a few minor things). Firstly, the chick peas themselves were as they usually are – cooked to perfection, buttery and tender, but still retaining their nutty bite. They may have darkened slightly, but they thankfully hadn’t hardened and they were as soft and velvety as ever. Chick peas have their own unique, almost nutty, taste and this was preserved here, but the additions to the recipe really made their mark, which elevated the humble chick pea! They weren’t intensely garlicky, but there was a definite garlic-breath about them. Rather, they were aromatically perfumed with the delicate intensity of garlic. It was nice, whilst eating them, to suddenly bite down on a shard of garlic or red chilli which filled the mouth with its own flavour. I loved the heat and spicy bite of the chillies, and I especially loved the way the spicy warmth of the chilli complimented the tender butteriness of the chick peas. In fact, I would even have liked more of that particular ingredient. I used one red chilli (for half quantities) and desired the extra hotness of another one, or even two. The tomatoes were also a nice addition, and although my distaste for preparing them may perhaps make me more predisposed to writing that I could have done without them, I genuinely wouldn’t leave them out. Firstly, they have a natural juicy sweetness, which compliments the nutty savoury chick peas perfectly and secondly, they are absorbent fuzzy little chunks and therefore soaked up the flavour of the garlic wonderfully. When eating a cube of tomato, you are hit with the flavour of garlic and also the herbiness of the parsley. I am sure that the tomatoes carried the flavours of the whole dish. Truthfully, I couldn’t taste the ingredients with which the chick peas had been cooked. Perhaps the garlic added something extra, but I couldn’t taste anything of the bay and the rosemary. It is no effort to throw a bay leaf into a pan of water, but considering the potential hassle required to tie the rosemary into a muslin bag, I can’t see it would be the end of the world if you omitted it. Oh, I should tell you that I drizzled some of our new EVOO over the chick peas on my plate and it was that which really made this come alive for me. The olive oil slicked the chick peas glossily, which highlighted their tender creaminess. I would certainly do that again and reading NB, I see that there it is stipulated as an ingredient with which to stir into the chick peas at the end. So, as you see, I loved the chick peas and would be happy to eat them again and again. Yes, there are changes which I would undoubtedly make, but isn’t that the way with all great recipes? We change them and make them our own. I am always a recipe-slave the first time I make something, but this certainly doesn’t hold true the second or third.
I wrote earlier, that although I loved the chick peas, I felt somewhat differently about the lamb and this is true. Nigella writes that she finds it hard to carve from the entire rolled joint without it unfurling all over the place, and so Chris really must have done a sterling job, because at least our roll stayed in one piece! That was one thing I *did* like about the lamb, but as I say, there were other things that I didn’t. Firstly, I didn’t like the encircling fat. I found it too flabby and greasy, which is a shame because we all know that fat on meat should be the crispy, crunchy best bit! I am sure that this could be easily rectified however, with some initial searing, so I won’t dwell on that now. Secondly, I was very disappointed that the lamb had been marinated in all those wonderful ingredients (OO, chilli, garlic and red onion), yet I can say – hand on heart – that the lamb didn’t taste of anything but lamb! Okay, maybe there was a faint garlickyness to it, which manifested as more of an aftertaste than anything else, but where was the red onion? Where was the red chilli? I couldn’t taste them at all. There is nothing wrong with a lovely noisette roll tasting as how it was intended. Lamb is lovely and is many people’s favourite meat, but then why bother marinating it? Plus, it is nice to infuse meat with other flavours sometimes. Thirdly, the cooking times given by Nigella were way, way off. Cooking that joint for 40 minutes was no way long enough (and we have a fan-assisted oven). I meant to write this in the “method” section, but it seems appropriate here as well, but after 40 minutes the lamb felt too springy to even consider serving, so I kept it in for another 20 minutes on top of that. However, even after an hours cooking time, the lamb was way too rare. I had to serve it after the hour, because it was getting later and later (and I wanted to watch “The X Factor” Goddamnit!), but really, only the outer noisettes were edible. The inner slices were still purple, and only slightly cooked. I love all my meat rare (my favourite steak is black and blue), but even I didn’t attempt to eat from the mid joint. Considering the expense of the lamb and the time spent marinating it and preparing for our meal, I was a little disappointed. Because there were only two of us, we were both full before we made it into the mid roll, and so could still really enjoy our meal, but had there been others present, I can positively say that the meal would have been ruined. Ho hum.
Looking at Nigella Bites – as I have been more and more lately – I think that I can say truthfully that I would much rather prepare and eat the bream with anchovies, thyme and chick peas. For one thing, the chick pea recipe looks more fully worked out, with some additions that I know work really well (the extra EVOO at the end for a start) and for another, the recipe for bream seems more fully explained than that for the lamb and besides, individual fish fillets are much less likely to go spectacularly wrong – they are a safer bet, culinary speaking.
I should also say – whilst in this section – something about Gordon Ramsay’s recipe for balsamic roasted red onions. Well, they were spectacular. They were tender, juicy and sweet with the balsamic vinegar. Because they were cooked with a few sprigs of rosemary, they were also slightly aromatically perfumed with rosemary. This is a lovely recipe – Chris particularly enjoyed it – and I will be making it again. In fact – dare I say it – the onions may have been my favourite thing about the whole meal (well, either them or the chick peas).
So, taking the meal as a whole; it wasn’t an out-and-out disaster, but neither was it a success. The chick peas and the red onions were lovely. The lamb was simply okay. This was a Middle-Eastern feast, to the extent that it was deeply flavoured and truly gorgeous, but I wouldn’t make it again following the present recipe. Oh, and John Armit’s wine suggestion was perfect – the Zinfandel went down very well indeed!
(The chick peas reheating with garlic and red chilli)
(With the added peeled and deseeded tomatoes)
Other person’s perspective: Chris said that the chick peas were nice. He liked the flavours with the chick peas, especially the tomato. Like me, he wanted more chilli and garlic with the chick peas (probably triple the amount). Again, like me he said that he couldn’t taste the marinade in the lamb. The lamb just tasted of lamb. Also, there was the whole issue of it not being cooked properly.
Other person’s perspective: Chris said that the chick peas were nice. He liked the flavours with the chick peas, especially the tomato. Like me, he wanted more chilli and garlic with the chick peas (probably triple the amount). Again, like me he said that he couldn’t taste the marinade in the lamb. The lamb just tasted of lamb. Also, there was the whole issue of it not being cooked properly.
(The lamb, after an hour cooking)
(The chick peas arranged on a plate)
Future changes: Where do I start? Okay, firstly I wouldn’t necessarily bother with cooking the chick peas with the rosemary. I don’t feel it really added anything. Secondly, I would store the cooked chick peas so that they don’t darken and harden. Thirdly, I would reheat the chick peas with double (and maybe even triple) the quantity of red chilli. Fourthly, I would do something about the lamb marinade. Chris came up with a genius way of ensuring that the marinade permeates the lamb. He suggested unfurling the raw joint, laying it out flat and then marinating that noisette “sheet,” thus ensuring that the marinade is over the largest possible surface area. Fifthly, I would sear the lamb on all sides prior to roasting. Sixthly, the cooking time needs extending by half again (at least). And this is just for starters. When I make the chick peas etc again, I would play around with ingredients – adding some, replacing some etc – just to make it my own and personalise it to my own taste.
(Gordon's balsamic roasted red onions - yum!)
(My plate. This photo was taken by candle-light, hence the dark hue!)
Rating: I can only award this 3/5 in its present state and Chris rates it as 2/5, so it receives a rating of 2 ½ / 5 – half marks again.
Chick pea section: Despite a few misgivings about the last two recipes, overall I have really enjoyed this section. As I say, it has reminded me that chick peas are out there to use as an ingredient. And I will be acting upon that reminder. I have decided to present our “Top 3” list from the section for your approval.
Amy:
1.) Cherried and chick pea’d couscous (You know it makes sense!)
2.) Chick pea and pasta soup
3.) Chicken and chick pea tagine
Christopher
1.) Chick peas with sorrel
2.) Chicken and chick pea tagine
3.) Chick pea and pasta soup
