By Six weeks. The countdown is now calibrated in days rather than months and the world is doing that thing where the ordinary details become more vivid because you know you're about to leave this version of your life and enter another version. I notice the exact color of the evening light on East Broadway. I notice the way Maureen's kitchen smells when I walk in for Sunday dinner. I notice the feel of my apartment — this apartment I've lived in alone for three years and which is about to become history. Sean D. and I are moving into a two-bedroom in Southie after the honeymoon, four blocks from his current place and six blocks from Maureen and Sean Sr. Geographic loyalty is not a Donovan family weakness.
I went back to work Monday and my patient load had shifted — several new admissions over the weekend while I'd been off, and one patient who had been discharged to home hospice, and I had to catch up with all of it simultaneously. This is the other side of oncology nursing: the work does not wait for you, and you cannot fully protect yourself from the feeling of absence when a patient you've been caring for is no longer there. You do your job. You care for the next person. You carry the ones you've cared for.
I made a spring chicken dish this week — a whole roasted chicken with lemon and tarragon and white wine, which is not my usual territory (I usually do rosemary and thyme) but which felt right for late April. The tarragon gave it a faint anise quality that I wasn't sure I'd like and then loved completely. Sean D. came over and ate the whole thing with me over a single meal and said, "Is there more?" There was not. There should have been more. Next time there will be more.
That chicken was gone before I could think straight — Sean D. cleaned the platter and looked at me like I’d promised something I hadn’t delivered. He wasn’t wrong. So the following Sunday, with six weeks turning into five and the light on East Broadway still doing that thing, I went bolder: a lamb London broil, rubbed with garlic and herbs, roasted hard and fast the way a cut like that deserves. It’s the kind of meal that fills a kitchen, fills a table, and reminds you that the life you’re stepping into is going to be very, very good.
Roasted Lamb London Broil-Style
Prep Time: 15 minutes | Cook Time: 30 minutes | Total Time: 45 minutes | Servings: 4
Ingredients
- 2 lbs lamb leg steak or boneless lamb shoulder, about 1 1/2 inches thick
- 4 cloves garlic, minced
- 2 tablespoons olive oil
- 1 tablespoon fresh rosemary, finely chopped
- 1 tablespoon fresh thyme leaves
- 1 teaspoon dried oregano
- Zest and juice of 1 lemon
- 1 teaspoon kosher salt
- 1/2 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
- 1/4 teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes (optional)
Instructions
- Make the marinade. In a small bowl, combine the minced garlic, olive oil, rosemary, thyme, oregano, lemon zest, lemon juice, salt, pepper, and red pepper flakes if using. Stir until well combined.
- Marinate the lamb. Pat the lamb dry with paper towels. Score the surface lightly with a knife in a crosshatch pattern. Rub the marinade all over both sides of the lamb. Let rest at room temperature for at least 20 minutes, or cover and refrigerate for up to 8 hours.
- Preheat the oven. Position a rack in the upper third of the oven and preheat to 450°F. Place a cast-iron skillet or oven-safe roasting pan inside to preheat along with the oven.
- Sear the lamb. Carefully remove the hot pan from the oven. Set over medium-high heat on the stovetop. Add the lamb and sear for 2–3 minutes per side until a deep brown crust forms.
- Roast. Transfer the skillet to the oven. Roast for 18–22 minutes, until an instant-read thermometer inserted into the thickest part reads 130°F for medium-rare or 140°F for medium.
- Rest and slice. Remove from the oven and tent loosely with foil. Let rest for 10 minutes. Slice thinly against the grain and serve with pan juices spooned over the top.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 380 | Protein: 42g | Fat: 22g | Carbs: 2g | Fiber: 0g | Sodium: 490mg