Once upon a time lamb shanks, like pork belly, oxtail and oysters - the latter famously ending up in Victorian pies to bulk them out (although considering they also drank beer as the water was so polluted, I'd probably stick to meat and veg) - were unloved wobbly bits now one wanted and priced accordingly. Now, thanks to gastropubs and TV chefs (and slightly mediocre food bloggers) these gnarly cuts are no longer the bargain they once were.
But what is better than being served up your very own personal hunk of meat on the bone? With soft and tender meat that should shed apart like shoulder, but also with something to gnaw on too. They also remind me of Grandad, as when we take him out for lunch and he sees a lamb shank on the menu, he always orders it, as 'it feels like a treat'.
And so when I saw Welsh leg shanks on offer I thought of lovely Grandad (who I haven't been able to see this year because of the small matter of a global pandemic and all that) and decided to buy a couple as a treat to raise our spirits from what sometimes feels like the unrelenting doom of 2020.
The recipe I chose to celebrate the shanks was from Simon Hopkinson Cooks; a cheering kind of cookbook that features a dozen carefully curated menus, each starting with aperitifs and nibbles and ending with puddings and digestifs. As all good meals should.
Sadly, there was just the Ewing and I to partake of this feast, so I skipped the starters and jumped straight in at the deep end with his recipe for gloriously sticky, slow-cooked shanks, braised with white beans and smoked bacon, followed by a baked vanilla custard (for four, but poured into two ramekins). I have faint memories that I also said I wasn't drinking, but the bottle of rioja in the pictures suggested something changed my mind....
Lamb shanks with white beans
(adapted from Simon Hopkinson)
4 lamb shanks (I used two and had the leftover beans and bacon for supper the next day)
500g white beans (I used haricot, as I couldn't find cannellini)
300g bacon, in a piece, cut into chunks (I ended up using a small joint of smoked gammon)
2 bay leaves
2 carrots, peeled and chopped into small chunks
400g cherry tomatoes
4 cloves garlic
2 onions, peeled and diced
3 sprigs thyme
1 tbsp olive oil
350mls chicken, vegetable or lamb stock
Put the beans in a roomy pan and cover with water (no salt) to at least 4cm above the beans. Bring up to a boil, boil for ten minutes, switch off the heat and leave in the water for 1 hour.
Whiz the tomatoes in a liquidiser together with the garlic, thyme leaves and process until smooth. Now put this mixture to one side.
Using a large, preferably cast-iron pot heat the olive oil over a moderate flame. Tip in the bacon and allow to fry quietly for about 5 minutes lift out the bacon and reserve on a large plate.
Season the shanks and slowly fry in the bacon fat until all surfaces are nicely browned. Lift out and place alongside the bacon.
Add the onions and carrots to the pot and sweat for about 10 minutes, or until lightly coloured. Add the tomato mixture, bring up to a bubble and allow to cook for a further 10 minutes. Stir in the bay leaves and stock before adding the bacon and lamb shanks and push under the liquid to cover them. Bring up to a simmer.
Preheat the oven to 150°C. Drain the beans, rinse well and return them to the pot with the lamb.
Stir together well, thoroughly distributing the beans among the meat and place pot into the oven. Cook for a further 2 -3hours, uncovered, until both beans and lamb are tender and the liquid surrounding them has somewhat reduced, having by now formed a burnished look to the surface of the stew. Remove from the oven, and serve with green veg, to contract the red wine.
I love custard so much that a family member bought me a pot of creme anglais instead of flowers when she came to visit once. I ate it cold with a spoon. That said, I'm not as fond of custard tarts or creme brulee and I only decided to make these vanilla custard pots as I lacked the motivation to make pancakes or pastry, I half a carton of cream hanging around in the fridge.
I have to say that not only were they deceptively simple, but they were also bloody delicious. In fact so good, we actually ate them as an afternoon snack before our dinner. Well, working at home has to have some perks. Hopkinson uses single cream and makes his custards in small ramekins but, being greedy, I think you could add a little milk too, bunging in an extra yolk to thicken, and make a larger portion that is slightly less rich but no less wobbly.
Baked vanilla custard pots
300ml single cream
tiny pinch of salt
1 tsp vanilla paste
3 egg yolks
50g cater sugar
freshly grated nutmeg
Preheat the oven to 170C.
Whisk the egg yolks in a bowl together with the sugar, vanilla paste and salt until thick, pale and creamy. Add the cream mixture to the egg yolks, and whisk until well blended.
Pour the mixture into a small pan and cook over a low heat, stirring constantly with a wooden spoon, for five minutes or until the mixture has thickened slightly.
Carefully pour into four small ramekins (about 100-120ml each) - or two larger ones, if you're greedy like me, and grate a little nutmeg over each pot.
Place the ramekins in a deep roasting dish and pour tap-hot water around them so it comes up three quarters of the way up the sides of the ramekins.
Carefully slide it into the oven and bake for around 25 minutes, or until just set; give them a little shake; they will wobble nicely they are done.
Remove from the oven, take the custards from the tin and allow them to cool for 20 minutes. Put into the the fridge for at least two hours to chill thoroughly. Eat on the day of making (not a difficult instruction to follow).
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