Some people don't like lamb at all. Its rather strong flavor seems to be unbearable for a number of folks. For others it's the peculiar smell that does it. But a large number of us think it's absolutely delicious, and I can't tell you how many times I randomly crave the beautiful juicy lamb chops from Kokkari restaurant in San Francisco.
That being said, I have never really craved mutton. For a while I wasn't even sure what it actually was. The french word for sheep is mouton, so I figured it was at least the same animal. After some research, mostly verbally questioning my friend Courtney, who works at a lamb farm and has a small heard of sheep that she keeps for dairy, I became familiar with the word and it's definition.
So on Monday afternoon, when I got a message from her about how the mutton they had brought over for their dog Lucy and forgotten in our fridge was totally edible, I got pretty excited. I thought there were just bones and had been planing on making stock out of them.
She rambled something about how I might think it was gross to eat mutton : why would I think it was gross if I had never had it before? She assured me that it was safe to eat and USDA inspected: why would I think anything fresh from the farm was any less safe than all the stuff we buy at the supermarket not even knowing where it comes from? And since when does an inspection by any US government agency (specially the USDA and the FDA) mean anything anymore?
She also mentioned, and this did mean something, that because this mutton had been raised on grass, grazing on pasture the way that nature intended, it mostly tasted like regular lamb, instead of having mutton's much stronger flavor.
She suggested I braised it being that it would be rather tough since it was an older animal, and not raised in confinement. The more they move, the leaner they are, the more muscle they have, the less tender their meat is.
So yesterday afternoon, I got to work. I inspected the meat, as it had been in the fridge for a week now. It was originally vacum packed and frozen when they put it in the refrigerator. We agreed that since there was only a tiny opening on the seal of the plastic, not enough oxygen could have gotten in there to spoil it, plus we considered the time it must have taken it to defrost inside the cool fridge. Sure enough, it smelled and looked beautiful. Nice and red.
I dried them well and seasoned them generally with salt and pepper. I seared them until a nice golden brown on all sides, and then threw in some onions, carrots, gypsy peppers, and herbs from the garden. Then some wine, and a few spices and garlic. I opened a jar of crushed tomatoes I had preserved last summer and added that as well. Mixed, tasted, re seasoned, and put the meat back in. Into the oven for a few hours. In the meantime, I cooked some white rice. I also made a glaze out of a little vinegar and some cherry jam I had purchased at the Auburn's farmer's market, where this mutton came from.
Once the meat was nice and tender, I took it out of the sauce, skimmed the fat, glazed it with the jam, put it back in the oven on a sheet tray for a little while, and then added it back to the sauce.
At the last minute, I threw in some zucchini to the mix, poured a hefty serving over the rice, and we sat down to enjoy our dinner. Needless to say, it was delicious. It has been rather cool in our valley in the evenings so it was the perfect dish for the weather.
As we savoured every bite, I wondered how many people would have just thrown it away, the minute they realized it was in there. We thought they were bones and we still kept it!
I was taught by my parents not to waste food. As a little girl, if I didn't eat my dinner I would have it served for breakfast the next morning, and consecutively until I ate it. As an adult, I have always been very respectful of food, my main argument being that millions of people don't have enough of it, or sometimes any at all. Coming from a country where you meet those people on a regular basis, it's hard to not think about it. Even scraps should be saved, as they are very useful for compost, and then you are giving back to the land, instead of just taking all the time and not giving anything in return.
Then there is also the fact of how much it takes for our food to be produced: how many people's work is involved. How much patience for it to grow, how much time, money, effort.
Most people don't think about any of this anymore, and it's not necessarily their fault. Our food system is out of control with imports and exports, processed chemicals that are sold as food, and air conditioned supermarkets with neatly packed aisles of millions of items. If you ask any child right now where milk comes from, chances are the answer will be: from the supermarket, if not from the refrigerator!
This mutton didn't come from the refrigerator. It was once a live animal, who gave its life. It was the fruit of at least five people's hard work. It was at least 2 years old, therefore, it had at least 730 days of hard work, 17 500 hours of hard work. Throwing that away is not an option for my husband and I.
Instead, we were nourished by it. We mindfully ate the food that was the result of time and effort and a sheep's life. I took pleasure in preparing it, we took pleasure in eating it, and we raised our glasses to Lucy, Courtney's dog, whose dinner we were having.
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