Possibly the best roast lamb you'll ever eat

I fancy myself as a bit of a chef.

There. I said it. Don’t get me wrong; I don’t fancy the unsociable hours or undoubted stress of working in a professional kitchen, but I do like to try and do my best cooking for me and my wife, and especially relish the challenge of trying to cook up a masterpiece in the single electric oven in the tiny kitchen of our east London flat.

We had friends over last night – we didn’t strictly intend to, but had taken a trip to Borough Market and returned with a beautiful half shoulder of lamb from the Ginger Pig and an obscene quantity of ultra-fresh veg from Turnips. Our friends had been away for the weekend and I figured they wouldn’t fancy cooking so we timed the food to be ready for when they’d get back. Turns out it was a good plan: several bottles of good red wine later and the prospect of work the next day for three of us (I had the day off today) we ended the night agreeing it was a success.

Lamb is quite possibly my favourite Sunday roast meat – but, saying that, on the right day beef or pork cooked the right way could feasibly take that accolade. The bonus with lamb, and especially lamb shoulder, is that it’s so easy to cook and really difficult to get wrong. I’ve cooked this particular recipe several times and it produces delicious, fall-off-the-bone, melt-in-the mouth meat every single time. My mate reckoned it was quite possibly the best lamb he’d ever tasted. I’m sure he was being polite, but let’s put it this way: there are no leftovers for me to heat up today (which is a real shame because it’s probably even better the next day). So to share the love I thought I'd share my recipe. You're welcome.

Of course I wouldn't have thought to post this unless my friend had made such kind comments. I wouldn't dream of describing my own work with such unabashed praise. In the interests of balance I think it's only fair that I point out that my Yorkshire Puddings were appalling. They didn't rise at all and through too much time in the oven could have quite easily been used as a missile of some kind, so therefore I won't be publishing a recipe for them. The roast potatoes were good, though there's not really enough to making them to call it a "recipe". Perhaps one day.

Shoulder of lamb is a tough, sinewy, fatty joint. Almost every other part of the animal should be cooked in such a way that a good veterinarian could get it running round a field again in a matter of minutes. Shoulder (and of course shank) is different. To break down all the collagen and get that tender falling-apart texture it needs to be cooked long and slow. My inspiration for this recipe came from this excellent one of Jamie Oliver’s, but I found that the juices dried out and burnt in the bottom of the roasting dish, meaning I couldn’t make a gravy with them. I’m a garlic fiend, so I’ve upped the garlic, and whilst I may fancy myself as a chef, a gardener I ain’t – I’ve lost track of the number of rosemary plants I’ve tried and failed to keep alive, so the herbs are dried.

I can’t stress enough the importance of the quality of the meat. I’ve cooked this both with Ginger Pig and Tesco meat and it’s always twice as nice when I use meat that’s been prepared and hung properly, and not injected with water and goodness knows what. The Ginger Pig is a wonderful butchers with a couple of branches across London. The meat comes from their own farm in North Yorkshire, and I’ve never had a bad joint of meat from there. There is a difference in price – we paid about £12.50 per kilo for bone-in shoulder; Tesco charges £7. Half a shoulder (approx. 1 kg) easily fed four of us – so you’re looking at £1.40 extra per person. Well worth it, in my opinion, for extra enjoyment we got from the meal.

Other people I’ve cooked this for have asked whether you could cook this with leg of lamb. The recipe would work, but you shouldn’t do it. Leg of lamb is much more expensive than shoulder, and is naturally less fatty and more tender. It simply doesn’t need to be cooked for so long. It also won’t turn out as well – it’s the fat in the shoulder that keeps the meat so moist and the sinew and collagen that gives the shoulder so much more flavour – cooking this with leg of lamb won’t only be more expensive, it will be less tasty too. Take the cheaper route, and use shoulder, for best results.

And under no circumstances allow your butcher to remove the bone – this helps with heat exchange, moisture retention and adds flavour.

It’s all too tempting to use the bottle of plonk someone left behind at a party to cook with. Resist the urge. Never cook with anything you’re not willing to drink. I don’t know what makes people think that something unpalatable in a glass will somehow become delicious when cooked. If you’re going to invest in a decent joint of lamb, don’t for goodness’ sake ruin it by skimping on the wine. This recipe doesn’t call for much, and you can drink the rest with dinner. If you don’t drink alcohol, you can use lamb stock.

We served this as a Sunday roast with roasted herbed seasonal root veg, roasted garlic and roast potatoes. We also served Yorkshire Puddings which failed spectacularly, which my wife puts down to karma for serving them with the wrong meat.

Ingredients (serves 4)

·         One half-shoulder of lamb

·         One bulb of garlic

·         Rosemary

·         Mint sauce or jelly

·         Red wine

·         Water

·         Rapeseed oil

Preheat the oven to its highest possible temperature.

We used smoked garlic which I picked up on a recent trip to France. It’s difficult to find in the UK (it’s available at Borough Market) but standard white garlic works equally well. Because of the long cooking time, the full bulb doesn’t overpower the dish, but feel free to reduce it if this seems too much. Break the bulb into cloves and slice each clove into spears.

Put your lamb on a chopping board fat-side up. Score the fat in a criss-cross and stab the lamb all over with the point of your knife – on the bottom and sides too. Poke the spears of garlic into the holes you have just made.

Pour some oil into the base of a high-sided roasting dish just larger than your joint. Put the joint into the roasting pan and turn it over so it is fully covered. Sprinkle your joint with rosemary all over on both sides.

I find red wine can really overpower the flavour of the meat, so mix about half a wineglass full of wine with the same amount of water to prevent the lamb tasting exclusively of wine. Make this mixture, and add in a couple of teaspoonfuls of mint sauce. You could, of course, use fresh mint, but being no gardener I didn’t have any to hand. Mint sauce works well. Pour this around the meat (not over it).

Cover the meat tightly with foil to prevent moisture escaping. I did four layers. That might be a bit excessive, but be confident it’s adequately sealed. Put the meat in the oven and immediately turn the temperature down to 140°C. Leave it there for four hours.

Remove the meat from the oven and place on a chopping board. Cover with the foil and leave to rest for an hour. When you’re ready to serve, use two forks to pull the lamb apart.

Allow the fat in the roasting pan to solidify and remove it. If your kitchen is as hot as mine, you might need to put the roasting pan into the fridge (once cooled) to achieve this. The remaining juices/wine can be used to make the gravy. There’s no magic to this – pour it into a pan and, depending on the volume, add water. Add in lamb stock, mint and you’re ready to go.