Nigel Slater’s kitchen diary: roast shoulder of lamb is a never-ending joy

Photographs by Jonathan Lovekin

The occasional scent of thyme or caramelising roasting juices floated out of the kitchen towards the garden table, where we sat eating olives and reading the paper. Towards the end of its cooking time, the smell of roasting meat was positively tantalising and we couldn’t wait to set the table and toss a leafy salad of butterhead lettuce with which we would mop our plates.

I roast a shoulder or leg of lamb rarely – they are expensive – but like any roast, it feels like a celebration. A special treat not only to eat warm, but for the meals that follow. That never-ending joy of opening the fridge to find a plate of cold cuts. A favourite of mine is to slice the cold roast lamb thinly, season it with a dressing spiked with red wine vinegar and soft, bottled green peppercorns, then pile it on to toasted, olive-oily focaccia.

If you are a dab hand at stripping the meat for the bones, a job I love, there are myriad uses aside from the classic shepherd’s pie. I like to toss strips of the meat, cut thinly, with mint mayonnaise, or leave the lamb torn – not cut – into thick shreds to marinate in a dressing of lemon juice, olive oil and honey.

This has been the week in which more eating has been done outside than in. I can’t remember when the garden table was laid so early in the year. On several days all three meals were eaten in the shade of the medlar tree.

Breakfasts have been somewhat bracing, with the garden sunny, but barely warm. A refreshing start to the day. The sun hits this garden in mid-afternoon, which means lunch can be eaten in relative shade, something that is kinder on the food than blazing sun.

The potted herbs are really getting into their stride now, lapping up this welcome early summer heat, their oils intensifying by the day. You only have to brush a thyme plant with your hand for its resinous scent to stay on your skin as effectively as a spray of cologne.

I have taken to snatching handfuls of mint and tarragon and tossing them into salads or, this week, into the steamed spring greens and peas that accompanied the roast lamb.

Serves 5-6. Ready in 2 hours.

Slow cooking produces a particularly tender result, though it is unlikely to be pink inside, as it would be with a cut roasted at high temperature.

The meat will be sweet, juicy and gently seasoned with the herbs. The introduction of anchovy adds a subtle savour, but anchovy haters are unlikely to be aware of its presence.

You can use other cuts, such as a leg, cooking them in the same manner, but bearing in mind to adjust the cooking times accordingly.

lamb shoulder about 2kg
olive oil a little
anchovy fillets 8
rosemary 3 bushy sprigs
thyme 8 sprigs
vegetable or chicken stock or water 200ml
spring greens 350g
shelled peas 250g

Heat the oven to 180C/gas mark 4. Lay the lamb in a large roasting tin, then rub all over with olive oil.

Season with sea salt and black pepper. Pierce the fat in 15 or so places pushing 3 or 4cm deep into the flesh.

Finely chop the anchovies. Pull the leaves from the rosemary and thyme, then chop them finely and mix with the chopped anchovies. Push these down into the slits in the lamb with your fingers.

Roast the lamb for an hour and a half until the fat is translucent, the colour of pale honey.

Remove the lamb from the tin and set aside on a warm platter to rest. I like to cover it with foil at this point, to keep it nicely warm.

Trim and roughly chop the stems of the greens, removing the tender leaves and setting them aside. (They will be used later.) Place the roasting tin over a moderate heat and pour in the stock or water. Bring to the boil, then stir with a wooden spatula or spoon to dislodge all the roasted meat juices from the pan, then add the peas and stems of the greens and cover the pan with foil to allow the vegetables to cook in their own steam. Leave for 4 or 5 minutes, turning once.

Add the leaves of the greens now, turning them in the hot juices till they have wilted. Lift all the vegetables on to a serving dish.

Turn up the heat under the roasting tin and let it bubble for a minute or to then check the seasoning. I like to add a little red wine vinegar sometimes, or perhaps a trickle of honey.

Carve the lamb and serve with the greens, peas and roasting juices.

A few ways with cold lamb

• It is worth taking the meat from the fridge a good hour before, to bring it to cool room temperature.

• An open sandwich of toasted bread, spread with crushed, cooked peas, seasoned with a little wasabi, with thin slices of cold roast lamb on top.

• Many years ago, when I worked in a country house hotel in the Lake District, we would greet our guests with tiny sandwiches of cold roast lamb, sliced thin as a wafer, tufts of emerald-green watercress, the bread spread with redcurrant jelly.

• Cut the lamb into finger sized pieces, then wrap each one in a crisp iceberg lettuce leaf, tucking inside a large mint leaf, a dab of thick yoghurt and a slice of cucumber.