Rosemary Roasted Lamb

The support group met in person this week — the first in-person meeting since the pandemic, in the church basement in Rockville Centre, with the bad coffee and the folding chairs and Sandra with her yellow curtains at home and her kind, unflinching face in the room. We sat in a circle and talked and the talking was different in person — rawer, more intimate, the physical presence of other caregivers a kind of validation that the screen could not provide. A new member named Doris, whose husband has Lewy body dementia, said, "I feel like I'm mourning someone who's still alive." The room went quiet. Then Sandra said, "You are. And it's the hardest mourning there is, because there's no funeral, there's no shiva, there's no endpoint. It just goes on." I wrote it in my journal. I keep a journal of things Sandra says, which is either a personal archive or a future book, and I am not yet sure which.

I made a corn chowder — the late-summer version, with bacon (the rabbi doesn't read the blog) and cream and fresh thyme, thick and warm and contradictory: a warm soup in the heat of July, which makes no sense and perfect sense, because sometimes you need the comfort of warm food even when the air is warm, even when the season doesn't call for it, because the season inside you is different from the season outside you, and the season inside me this week is late autumn, gray and cooling, and the chowder meets me where I am.

What Sandra said in that church basement — that there’s no endpoint, no shiva, no ceremony to mark the mourning we carry — stayed with me all the way home and into the kitchen, where I needed to do something slow and purposeful with my hands. The corn chowder I described above was one answer; this rosemary lamb is another, and it comes from the same impulse: the long roasting time, the smell of it filling the house, the way a dish that takes two hours to cook forces you to simply wait and breathe. I make it when I need the kitchen to do the holding for a while.

Prep Time: 20 minutes | Cook Time: 2 hours 15 minutes | Total Time: 2 hours 35 minutes | Servings: 6

Ingredients

1 bone-in leg of lamb (approximately 4 to 5 lbs)
6 cloves garlic, thinly sliced
3 tablespoons fresh rosemary leaves, roughly chopped (plus several whole sprigs)
3 tablespoons olive oil
1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice
1 1/2 teaspoons kosher salt
3/4 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
1/2 teaspoon dried thyme
1/2 cup dry white wine or low-sodium chicken broth
1/2 cup water

Instructions

Preheat and prepare the pan. Preheat your oven to 325°F. Place the rosemary sprigs in the bottom of a large roasting pan to form a fragrant bed for the lamb.
Score and stud the lamb. Using a small sharp knife, cut 20 to 24 small slits, about 1 inch deep, all over the surface of the leg of lamb. Push a slice of garlic and a pinch of chopped rosemary into each slit.
Make the herb rub. In a small bowl, stir together the olive oil, lemon juice, remaining chopped rosemary, thyme, salt, and pepper. Rub this mixture evenly over the entire surface of the lamb.
Roast the lamb. Set the lamb on top of the rosemary sprigs in the roasting pan. Pour the wine and water into the bottom of the pan. Roast uncovered for approximately 2 hours to 2 hours 15 minutes, until an instant-read thermometer inserted into the thickest part (away from the bone) reads 145°F for medium, or 160°F for well done. Baste with pan juices every 45 minutes.
Rest before carving. Transfer the lamb to a cutting board, tent loosely with foil, and let rest for 15 to 20 minutes. This allows the juices to redistribute and makes carving significantly easier.
Make a simple pan sauce. While the lamb rests, place the roasting pan over medium heat on the stovetop. Scrape up the browned bits from the bottom and let the liquid reduce for 3 to 4 minutes until slightly thickened. Strain through a fine-mesh sieve if desired and spoon over the carved lamb.

Nutrition (per serving)

Rosemary Roasted Lamb — When the Season Inside You Is Different from the One Outside