Читать книгу The Kitchen Diaries - Nigel Slater - Страница 96

The Ginger Pig has a display of lamb chops that is irresistible even to someone who has had them once already this week. Thick, deep red and meaty, they have been cut from the middle of the loin and have a generous bone on which to chew. Rarely have I seen such tempting pieces of meat.

There are two of us tonight so I buy four out of greed rather than necessity. I am set on some sort of meaty supper with Indian spicing, not a curry exactly, but something vibrant. The chops will do fine for this.

At home I raid the spice jars, a teaspoon each of four seeds: mustard, coriander, fennel and cumin, left whole rather than ground. I fry them gently in two tablespoons of groundnut oil, then stir in two peeled and chopped shallots, two hot red chillies that I have seeded and chopped, and four crushed cloves of garlic. I let everything soften without colouring, then stir in a grated knob of ginger the size of a walnut in its shell and six chopped tomatoes, their seeds and juice. Once everything has come to the boil, I crumble in some sea salt, turn the heat down and let it simmer, partly covered with a lid, for fifteen minutes.

Off the heat I squeeze in the juice of a lime and add a handful of chopped coriander leaves and a little more salt. Once the spicy-red slop has cooled, I dunk the lamb chops in it and leave them for an hour or so.

The chops, cooked under an overhead grill, their marinade still clinging to them, are a fiery, juicy delight. The spices bring heat and savour but in no way overpower the lamb; the fat is crisp and lightly scorched from the grill, the flesh tender and rich with pink juices. Rarely have I enjoyed a chop quite so much.