Pear And Pomegranate Lamb Tagine

Labor Day weekend is coming. David wants us out to Bellevue Monday. James has hinted — nothing concrete, just hinted — that he has something planned for Sunday. I cross-examined him twice and got nowhere. He is a product manager. He has a sealed roadmap. I am trying to be cool about it. I am being exactly as cool as I am, which is not cool at all.

I think James is going to propose this weekend. I do not know. I think so. I have been trying to stop thinking about it because thinking about it makes me anxious and thinking about it also makes me smile and both reactions are uncomfortable in public. I had to go to the bathroom in the middle of a meeting on Thursday because I caught myself smiling at a Slack message he had sent that was nothing, just an emoji, and I thought my coworkers might notice.

Dr. Yoon on Monday was the first session where I laughed more than I cried in a month. She said, "You're happy." I said, "I'm in the most complicated happy of my life." She said, "Those are the best kinds." We talked about whether I wanted to get married before the video call or after. I want after. I want Jisoo to witness it somehow, even if by FaceTime, even if by letter. I told Dr. Yoon, "I don't want to get married without her knowing." Dr. Yoon said, "Then tell her." I said, "I will." I did not say: if James proposes this weekend. I did not want to say it out loud.

I wrote Jisoo a longer letter on Friday. I told her about James in more detail than I had before. I told her he is kind and funny and that he cooks Taiwanese food and that we met at a tech meetup and that he understands me without my having to explain. I wrote: "I think there is a chance he will ask me to marry him this fall. I wanted you to know before he asked. I wanted you to be part of this, not after, but now." I sent it Friday afternoon. I have not heard back. She will write Saturday morning her time. I will check Saturday evening my time. I am a woman who used to hate waiting and has now had the entire year of her life devoted to learning to wait, and I am, reluctantly, getting better at it.

I made bulgogi for a small dinner Saturday night — James and two friends from work, Priya and her husband Arjun. Priya does not come to many things. She and Arjun have two small kids. She accepted because, I think, she sensed that Saturday was an unusual Saturday. I grilled the bulgogi on the balcony grill. I served it with rice and lettuce and ssamjang and Jisoo's kimchi. Arjun had three helpings. Priya said, "This is real cooking. I can tell the difference." She and Jisoo will never meet. But I felt, over dinner, that my kitchen was holding everyone I cared about at once, even the people at great distances. That is, I think, the kindest thing a kitchen can do.

Karen called on Sunday to say she was excited about Labor Day. She did not say why she was excited. I noticed. She has always been a terrible keeper of secrets. I think she knows. I will let her have her moment. I will let James have his. Whatever it is, whenever it is, I will let the people I love surprise me, even when I suspect the shape of the surprise.

The recipe this week is bulgogi. Thinly sliced ribeye, marinated in pear and soy and sugar and garlic and sesame oil overnight, grilled hot and fast. Served with rice, lettuce, ssamjang, and the kind of company you want at the table when the ground is about to shift. Eat with your hands. Wrap the meat in the lettuce. Bite down.

The pear in bulgogi marinade is not decorative — it is the thing that breaks the meat open, that makes it tender enough to wrap in a single leaf of lettuce and eat in one bite. When I think about what to offer alongside a story like this one, about a Saturday dinner where the kitchen held Priya and Arjun and James and Jisoo all at once, I keep coming back to pear as the throughline: this Pear And Pomegranate Lamb Tagine carries that same quality, a slow warmth that makes everything around it softer and more willing. It is the dish I reach for when I want dinner to feel like it is doing something generous, something that takes its time, something that knows the ground might shift before the meal is over.

Prep Time: 20 min | Cook Time: 2 hr | Total Time: 2 hr 20 min | Servings: 6

Ingredients

2 lbs lamb shoulder, trimmed and cut into 2-inch chunks
2 firm Bosc pears, peeled, cored, and quartered
1/2 cup pomegranate seeds, divided, plus extra for garnish
3 tablespoons pomegranate molasses
1 large yellow onion, finely diced
4 cloves garlic, minced
2 tablespoons olive oil
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1 teaspoon ground cumin
1/2 teaspoon ground coriander
1/2 teaspoon ground ginger
1/4 teaspoon ground turmeric
1/4 teaspoon cayenne pepper
1 1/2 cups lamb or chicken broth
2 tablespoons honey
1 teaspoon kosher salt, plus more to taste
1/2 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
Fresh cilantro and mint leaves, for garnish
Couscous or steamed rice, for serving

Instructions

Season and sear the lamb. Pat the lamb chunks dry with paper towels and season generously with salt and black pepper. Heat olive oil in a heavy-bottomed Dutch oven or tagine over medium-high heat. Working in batches, sear the lamb on all sides until deep golden brown, about 3 to 4 minutes per side. Transfer seared pieces to a plate and set aside.
Build the aromatic base. Reduce heat to medium. Add the diced onion to the same pot and cook, stirring occasionally, until softened and translucent, about 5 minutes. Add the garlic and cook 1 minute more until fragrant. Do not let it brown.
Bloom the spices. Add the cinnamon, cumin, coriander, ginger, turmeric, and cayenne to the onion mixture. Stir constantly for 60 seconds until the spices are fragrant and coating the onions evenly.
Deglaze and braise. Return the seared lamb to the pot. Pour in the broth and pomegranate molasses, scraping up any browned bits from the bottom of the pot. Bring to a gentle boil, then reduce heat to low. Cover tightly and simmer for 1 hour 15 minutes, until the lamb is nearly fork-tender.
Add the pears. Nestle the quartered pears into the braising liquid around the lamb. Drizzle the honey over the top. Cover and continue to simmer for an additional 30 minutes, until the pears are soft but still hold their shape and the lamb pulls apart easily.
Finish and adjust. Stir in half the pomegranate seeds. Taste the braising liquid and adjust salt as needed. If the sauce is too thin, simmer uncovered for 5 to 10 minutes to reduce slightly.
Serve. Spoon the tagine over couscous or steamed rice. Garnish with the remaining pomegranate seeds, fresh cilantro, and mint. Serve immediately, family-style if possible, with warm flatbread alongside for sweeping through the sauce.

Nutrition (per serving)

Pear And Pomegranate Lamb Tagine — For the Saturdays That Hold Everything at Once