Post #15 – Women’s Memoirs, ScrapMoir – Matilda Butler and Kendra Bonnett
By March Bracken
I love food. I love the preparation: slicing crisp radishes oh so thin, pressing bread dough with the palms of my hands, stirring garlic laced gravy for pasta…I love the preparation, the presentation, and the ingestion. I do, of course, relate to the nurturing aspects of food and to some nurturing memories of food. More than this I find, however, upon reflection, that I relate to the adventure of food: the adventure of trying something new and running home to re- create it. I relate to the exquisite joy of a new spice on my tongue, and will ask the chef, “What DID you put in those baby red potatoes?” I enjoy going to my local Italian grocery store and sampling all the displayed vinegars…aged wine Marsala vinegar, white Chardonnay vinegar, malt vinegar…it is absolutely amazing and delightful to me that there are so many kinds of vinegars.
My husband and I travelled a lot before we finally settled in Wisconsin. We lived in Vienna for a few years, and travelled to Munich, Greece, Prague, Hungary, the British Isles and elsewhere. While he was more formal than I and more restrained, he found my food relish amusing and wasn’t too embarrassed when I would go “back stage” to speak with the chefs. Consequently, we ate well at home, with my recipes learned from many countries. But that stopped in Wisconsin. No one enjoyed my exotic dishes there. Beers and Brats were the entertainment menu du jour, and white bread was definitely preferred over a dark bread embedded with green olives (my breakfast choice at the time). My husband wanted to “fit in.” I wanted to, too, to please him However, years of white bread and plain apple cider vinegar took not just a culinary toll, but a toll on the art of our marriage. It became plain and dull. Our marriage didn’t survive. It died from the lack of adventure, which had gone into our culinary explorations.
Sometimes I whine about my sons not coming “home to a nurturing meal” often enough. From the time he could take the El by himself and explore Chicago, my oldest son would call me from perhaps a predominantly Indian neighborhood and exclaim, “Maw I just tried octopus!!” The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. We do have meals chez mama, but many of our meals are at the Ethiopian Restaurant near us, or at a wonderfully plain Japanese eatery with the most delicious sea food imaginable.
So, with that preamble, let me share a favorite recipe from other country. In Greece, I have had the best lamb in the world. Now, I am a vegetarian, but I can remember fondly its mouth-watering tenderness. In Greece, it was cooked on a spit. I always did it in my oven.
Lamb, Greek Style
1. Get a big healthy leg of lamb (6 pounds or more.)
2. Preheat the oven to 450 degrees
3. Trim off the extra fat
4. With a small, sharp knife make slits every inch along the lamb and stick a piece of garlic in the slits.
5. Continue to rub garlic over the leg of lamb (one can never have enough garlic, wine, or chocolate)
6. Add sea salt and freshly ground pepper
7. Sprinkle Rosemary (fresh if possible) over the lamb
Put the lamb in a large pan and position it in the center of a 450 degree oven, cooking until you hear a popping sound. When you hear the popping, peek in the oven, and you will see that the leg of lamb has started to become brown and crispy. Turn the oven down to 325 degrees and cook for exactly 30 minutes a pound. Baste once or twice.
While lamb is cooking wash some potatoes and put them aside. If they are little red ones, it is not necessary to cut them. If large, cut them in chunks. Put them in beside the lamb, basting occasionally for the last 45 minutes of cooking time. Serve with mint sauce, and enjoy!
Serve with a fine crisp red wine — preferably Greek and with dolmathes for desert!
