Yogurt-Marinated Leg of Lamb with Spicy Fennel and Sumac By Alison Roman

This past Monday I cooked a whole leg of lamb for 8 people. I’d been nervously anticipating this meal for months. From my first spin through Nothing Fancy, the sight of this recipe — Yogurt-Marinated Leg of Lamb, totally intimidated me. I knew I’d have to save it for last, figuring I’d need at least a year’s worth of cooking practice before I could safely attempt to deal with the entire leg of a large animal...

I was right and I was wrong.

I was wrong because even with a year of intentional cooking under my belt, I still messed up. Alison gives two sets of instructions in the recipe for roasting and braising. I went the braising route because she says it’s less scary and more foolproof. I covered the lamb and its baking dish with aluminum foil and stuck it in the oven at 300 degrees for the minimum time listed: 3 hours. But I don’t think the foil stayed tightly wrapped the whole time, and thus, too much steam escaped, allowing the meat to dry out some.

I should have checked it part way through, as an insurance policy. But part of me felt like checking on meat before it’s supposed to be done was “the old Annie.” The old Annie who doubted herself and the process. In her many meat recipes, Alison routinely says things like “resist the temptation to peak” or “don’t even bother peaking until the timer goes off - it won’t be ready before then, I promise”. I tried to actually followed her advice for once. (I’m not blaming her for the fail, but you get the point.) To be clear, the lamb wasn’t ruined — the flavor rocked, and the meat was still tender. But did it fall apart at the touch the way Alison describes? Definitely not.

I was also right that this recipe should be saved for the end because after a year’s worth of intentional cooking, I’ve seen great improvement in my ability to get something wrong and not feel ashamed about it.

A year ago, I would have been mortified the moment I cut into the lamb and realized what had happened. I can just picture the way my cheeks would have reddened and my heart started to pound. And to be sure, that was a temptation for me last Monday. But only for a moment. Instead, I paused and thought, “That’s what this whole process is about, right? Learning — getting it wrong so you can eventually get it right. Your friends are here to join you in that project, not to consume something perfect.”

As my friends sat around the table, I stood to give an introduction to the meal. At the end, I explained that the lamb didn’t turn out the way I had hoped. It wasn’t tough, but it was dry. But then I said, mostly for myself, that I was grateful that they agreed to participate in my project — a project that emphasized learning over perfection. And I sat down, unashamed.

If you know me personally, you know that this kind of moment is a huge marker of growth. 

The lamb is served atop a bed of thinly sliced fennel and herbs marinated in red pepper flakes and lemon juice - and truly, it was exactly what the lamb needed to balance its saltiness. Alison doesn’t mention this, but after 3 hours of braising, the sliced fennel bulb that cooks underneath the lamb in the braising liquid is soft and infused with all of the lamb’s spices - fennel seed and cumin seed. I scooped them out of the baking dish and tossed them with the fresh fennel slices before laying the slices of lamb on top. It added even more flavor and substance to the dish. I served the lamb, sprinkled with sumac, alongside a bowl of sour cream. 

And thus marked my second to last All-Out-Alison meal of the project: 

219 recipes cooked, 6 to go.

Chicories with Yogurt, Preserved Lemon, and Mint

I discovered earlier this year that radicchio is far too bitter for my taste. Most chicories are. I didn’t expect to enjoy this salad, which proved true. But one of my dinner guests enjoyed it so much that he took home all of the leftovers. I guess it’s an acquired taste. 

This salad is very simple — torn radicchio and mint leaves tossed with grated garlic, lemon juice, and preserved lemon. Salt and pepper, of course. And laid atop salted greek yogurt. But no matter the flavor pairing, a salad that primarily consists of radicchio, in my opinion, will always be dominated by its inherent bitterness, even with a creamy dressing like yogurt. But the salad sure looked beautiful! 

I served this salad alongside Alison’s Vinegar-Roasted Beets (love!), Yogurt-Marinated Leg of Lamb (post to come), and Sour Cream Flatbreads (a true omg). 


218 recipes cooked, 7 to go.

Vinegar-Roasted Beets with Spring Onions by Alison Roman

The summer after I graduated college, I lived in a friend’s basement for a month while trying to find my own place. Kate and her husband and two children, had a local farmer’s produce subscription box that she picked up at the local farmer’s market every other Saturday morning. That box was our entertainment all week long. Kate made it an activity to find creative ways to use up all of the vegetables in the box before they went bad. Every night I came from work and she’d be chopping up a rutabaga or slicing a yellow squash for the third night that week, and we’d talk about her strategy for that night’s veggie variation. One of the most common vegetables included were beets. I knew practically nothing about them at the start, but over that  month, I helped chop, peel, roast, boil, and slice more beets than I thought possible. And I fell in love with them.

Alison has two beet recipes and both are great. The first is her Beets with Buttermilk and Walnuts, which my friends still talk about as “life-changing.” The second are her vinegar-roasted beets which I think I like even more.

The first step is to roast the beets whole and unpeeled in tin foil packets, doused in white distilled vinegar, olive oil, salt and pepper. Once a fork can easily pierce them, they’re ready to cool. After letting them lose their too-hot-to-handle status, it’s safe to grab a paper towel and shrug the outer skin off. The skin on my beets clung a little more tightly, so I used a paring knife to shave off the stubborn parts.

Since these beets were planned as a side dish to a larger meal that required lots of oven time, I chose to roast these first and let them cool completely while I prepared the other dishes. Alison doesn’t mention anything about serving the beets cold, but I can tell you that it worked wonderfully.

Closer to dinner time, I seared the scallions in my cast iron and mixed the yogurt and lime juice at the bottom of my serving bowl. I placed the quartered beats onto the yogurt and scattered the scallions and lots of dill over everything.

The beets were a hit! They were the only dish to be finished completely on the table. I served them with Alison’s Sour Cream Flatbreads, and most people chose to dip their breads into the yogurt mixture at the bottom of the beet bowl after the beets were all served. I enjoyed it so much that I decided to buy more beets for this coming week to repeat the dish. And that’s saying something.

217 recipes cooked, 8 to go.

Roasted Squash with Yogurt and Spiced Buttered Pistachios by Alison Roman

Sometimes my brain works like Michael Scott’s in The Office. It thinks of one thing and, through a series of tiny logic jumps, ends on something completely different (but vaguely related). Like Michael’s name association game in Season 5, Episode “Lecture Circuit.” If you know, you know. Why am I mentioning this? Mostly for my own pleasure. Here’s how my brain thought about writing this essay… 

I need to write about the squash recipe → I used an acorn squash → I’m delighted by the way that acorn squash resembles a real acorn → acorn squash looks like someone pumped air into a real acorn until it was 1,000x its original size → you know who likes acorns, squirrels! → my friend Megan pointed out to me the other day that the only reason people tolerate squirrels is because of their bushy tails, otherwise squirrels would resemble rats and everyone would think they’re gross → I saw a squirrel prepare for winter in Pittsburgh, it gathered walnuts, stripped the walnuts of their protective shells using its front teeth, and stored the nuts underground.

See what I mean? 

Back to the acorn squash. I cut it first down the middle, lengthwise, and then sliced each half into one and a half inch slices. Minus the seeds, they looked like pieces of cantaloupe. Now per Alison’s suggestion, and remembering what I wished I’d done with her Caramelized Winter Squash recipe, I chose to keep the seeds in there for added texture and crunch. A fabulous choice, IMO. Like pumpkin seeds, they’re a little hard to chew - but they taste delightful. 

While the squash roasted in the oven, I sauteed chopped pistachios, turmeric and pepper flakes in browned butter. What makes this recipe so low maintenance is the use of pre-shelled pistachios. Trader Joes sells bags of pistachio meats for an affordable price, and I can’t recommend them enough. Also, the lemony yogurt is an essential part of this recipe. I think the strength of the turmeric flavor needs a slightly acidic mellowing, which the yogurt and lemon juice provide. 

I especially appreciated the addition of flaky salt at the end, making this a triple crunch recipe: pistachios, squash seeds, and flaky salt. This recipe can be made all winter long, but it’s especially perfect for the holidays, adding some flare to an otherwise traditional vegetable. Wow your relatives. Make this acorn squash. Maybe tell them my friend’s theory about squirrels. Or don’t. 

157 recipes cooked, 68 to go.

Grilled Artichokes with Preserved Lemon Yogurt by Alison Roman

I love a good artichoke. I love the activity of eating one almost as much as the taste of it, too. I first made artichokes with Alison’s Wine-Roasted Artichokes recipe, which taught me all about how to cut and prep them – it’s sort of an art form. These grilled artichokes required slightly less preparation (no stripping the outer layer of leaves), but they did require more time by way of steaming. For more tender artichokes, Alison asks you to steam them before grilling, which adds about an hour to the ordeal. 

To steam the artichokes, first cut the stem to a little less than an inch, and remove the top 1.5-2 inches of the bulb. Fill a medium pot with 2 inches of water, and place the artichokes stem-side down, with the bulbs poking well out of the water, so as not to water-log them. I highly recommend using 4 smaller artichokes as opposed to 2 large ones so that they stand more securely in the pot. Bring the water to a boil and then simmer for 50 to 60 minutes for large artichokes. For smaller artichokes, I found they were ready within 45 minutes, which you can test by seeing how easily an outer leaf comes off when tugging. 

The book does not specify whether the pot should be covered. However, the only way to create effective steam is to cover a pot to trap the moisture. The picture in her book shows a lid being lifted from the pot, so I took that as my confirmation to utilize a lid. 

While the artichokes steamed, I made the preserved lemon yogurt, which was just a combination of finely chopped preserved lemon, salt, pepper, and goat’s milk yogurt (or greek yogurt, sour cream or labne – you decide your destiny.) The yogurt serves as the artichoke dipping sauce. It also made a delicious sauce for dipping the roasted potatoes we had as an additional side at dinner. 

I steamed the artichokes just before packing up my meal ingredients and heading to my in-law’s home where they own a grill. Prior to grilling, the artichokes should be halved lengthwise and slathered with olive oil, salt, and pepper. They start cut-side down over medium-high heat. After 4 minutes (we waited until 6 minutes), flip them over to get equal charring on the back side for another 4 minutes. Bon appetit, they’re ready to serve! 

I must say, steaming the artichokes first made a giant difference in the tenderness of the leaves. They were easy to pull and eat, but not so soft that they fell limp when holding them. 

I served this dish with Alison’s Grilled Branzino with Lemons All of the Ways – an excellent pairing if you ask me. 

99 recipes cooked, 126 to go.