Working the Bone: Lamb Tagine

My very good writer-friend Melon and I have been co-pitching a story for about a year now to some of our favorite mens magazines (Playboy, Esquire, GQ, FHM, Maxim). He's got great connections and superb editing skills (imagine what he could do with my blog?), and I've got -- well, if you've read this, you know what I've got.

The article that no one seems to want is called "Working the Bone" double entendre fully intended. It's about the primal deliciousness of eating food from the bone; having the uber-sensual experience of picking bones up in your hands and slurping every last bit of fat, meat and marrow from them. Why Ms. Manners and Julia have okayed (nay, emphatically recommended!) working the bone, and why any chef worth his Maldon's will tell you that's the tastiest and most pleasurable part of the meal.

[Full disclosure: A big part of the appeal here is that they also want me to do a photoshoot. All pitches must be accompanied by photos (I used my fully-clothed girl-next-door online dating ones). Mine received a triple-thumbs up from the editors, but sadly they found the story to be a snore. And so I debate...but before you put on Solomon's cloaks, find me a woman who doesn't fantasize about gathering her grandchildren round her sensible shoes one day, picking "The Poky Little Puppy" from a pile of books and having her most precocious granddaughter enquire, "Grandma, we're tired of those stories. We want to hear about your life. Tell us again about the Playboy photoshoot...puh-leeeease!"

Followed by a modest chuckle, "Oh dear, I couldn't possibly. Remember last time? Your parents went through the roof..." As she smoothes out her afgan and watches their innocent faces fill with yearning, her eyes meet the punim of the youngest of her brood, the one who doesn't even know to ask the question, and she relents. "My zeiseh maedeles, if you insist..."]

When I worked for Martha Stewart, I had the supreme pleasure of assisting some of the worlds top chefs. It was like being on the high school JV football team and getting coaching from a different Joe Namath-level expert every week. One of my very favorites was Mr. Marcus Samuelsson, in no small part because he insisted on taking lunch in the commissary with the rest of the staff, and complimented the simple lunch that the cook had prepared loud enough for everyone to hear.

Marcus came to the show to do a sort of old-school Ethiopian cooking meets New York chic segment. He was accompanied by his friend Werkeye, an off the boat Ethiopian cook and restaurant owner.

Classic Ethiopian dining has a twist that some love and others find distasteful. At the table there are no utensils. Instead, diners are presented with piles of spongy bread (injera), which is used to pick up whatever braisey-stew concoction sits before them.

But as I learned that day, real traditional Ethiopian dining goes one step beyond. After prepping the meal, Marcus wanted my opinion on the stew. So he dipped his spongy bread deep into Workeye's pot and called me over. He asked me if I liked the African cooking and while I answered, he lifted his hand and pushed the food straight into my mouth, closing my lips with his fingers.

As I chewed and smiled, he told me that that in the true tradition of Ethiopian cooking, one must feed each other with their hands, and share their love...of food. Workie came over, laughing and he fed her as well. While taping the segment, he even fed Martha. This man's love of food, cooking and feeding was so irrepressible he actually needed to touch a persons mouth as he shared his creations.

Or maybe he was just a big flirt. Either way, I was better fed that day than I had been in many.

While teaching my students, I try to share basic cooking techniques, but I'll be damned if I can take my personal preferences out of the equation. I'll wax on about the hazards of margarine and artificial sweeteners, and the simple perfection of a dinner omelette (looking for a 20 minute meal, anyone?).

So this week, I couldn't help myself when one of my students, Leah, an exceptionally beautiful, tall, and super sharp young blonde, started icking and eeking about eating with your hands. We prepared a lamb tagine which is authentically enjoyed with bits of pita for grabbing the melting lamb from the bones. To make the tagine, we used lamb neck, a rich, fatty but incredibly bony cut that contributes to the development of a rich, gelatinous sauce but requires much working of the bone.

This freaked the Lovely Leah to no end. I listened quietly as she prattled on, in attempt to convert other students to her less barbaric ways. When I heard her cited Ethiopian dining as the ultimate "gross", I had to put an end to the madness.

I climbed atop the mountain of dishes heaped in the sink and shouted down upon her, "My dear Leah, a mere 25 years ago you were sucking your mothers breast; flesh to flesh, nutritious love pouring from her. And now, you're afraid to suck (extremely high-end kosher) meat from a bone? My child, come with me and we will eat this city together. We will dine without utentils, and I will show you the meaning of well fed."

At which point Rafael, the only single man in the classroom softly inquired, "Uh...can I come too? I mean, I'm a little freaked out by bones myself." Sweet Rafael didn't have the foresight to drop the piece of lamb neck bone presently in his paw.

So please, I beg, when dining with your lover or friend or spouse or grandmother tonight, feed them directly, whether it's ice cream from a silver spoon or the bread that you've used to sop up that last delicious spoonful sauce from your plate; pop it into your partners mouth and watch them feel your love.


Moroccan Lamb Tagine
Total time: 2 ½ - 3 hours
Serves 6

I recommend using the lamb next with the bones, as it makes a tasty sauce. However, it also makes for primal eating, so be sure to have a bone plate at the table. If you’re doing white tablecloth dining and would prefer to eat boneless, divide the amount of meat by two (only use 3 pounds of meat), and you’ll serve just as many.

1 tablespoon paprika
1 tablespoon turmeric
2 teaspoons salt, plus more to taste if needed
1 ½ teaspoons ground ginger
½ teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
¼ teaspoon cinnamon
¼ teaspoon cumin
¼ teaspoon black pepper
1 large pinch saffron, pulverized in your fingers
6 pounds bone-in lamb neck, cut into 3-inch chunks
1 to 2 tablespoons olive oil (if needed)
3 medium onions, grated
4 cloves garlic, pulverized
1 cup chopped parsley
3/4 cup chopped cilantro
2 cups water
3 small preserved lemons, cut into thin wedges, seeds discarded
2 cups cracked green olives, rinsed well
1/3 cup sliced almonds, toasted
Harissa (recipe follows)
Good quality Pita Bread, for serving

1. In a small bowl, combine all spices (from paprika to saffron). In the base of a large tagine, or dutch oven set over medium heat, add lamb and toss with spices. If lamb is fatty, continue to cook until spices smell fragrant, about 5 minutes. If lamb is lean, add oil to start the cooking process.

2. Add onions, garlic, parsley and cilantro to the pot, and stir to combine. Add water, covering lamb by ½ to 2/3, and bring to a gentle simmer. Cover, (if using a dutch oven, partially cover) and simmer gently until lamb is tender, about two hours.

3. When lamb has finished cooking, there should be a good amount of liquid in the bottom of the tagine (all the better for soaking your pita, my pretties). If there is too much, or if it is too watery, boil off the excess water. If the pot is getting dry during cooking, add water in ½ cup increments to maintain the cooking liquid and sauce.

4. Top tagine with lemons and olives, replace lid, and cook until warmed through (no more than 5 minutes). Remove from heat and sprinkle with almonds. Serve with harissa and bread.


Harissa
20 minutes
Makes about 1/2 cup

To create this condiment, it’s best to use whole spices, toasted in a small skillet for 1 minute (or until fragrant) and freshly grind in a spice grinder. The very basis of this sauce is peppers, oil and garlic – feel free to experiment with other spices to make it to your taste. Stir into soups, couscous, tagine, or offer with a platter of hummous and babaghanouj!

¼ cup ground Aleppo pepper (if not available, use hot Hungarian paprika and increase the cayenne to 1 tablespoon)
1 teaspoon ground coriander
1 teaspoon ground cumin
1 teaspoon ground fennel seed
1/2 teaspoon ground cayenne pepper
2 teaspoons salt
2 tablespoons red wine vinegar
1/3 to ½ cup olive oil

In a small bowl, combine all dry ingredients. Add vinegar and stir to make a paste. Add the olive oil, and stir to thin the paste. Add enough oil to float spice mixture to “seal”. Harissa can be stored, covered, in the refrigerator, for up to 2 weeks.