
Chef Graziella
Abbacchio alla Romana
Roman milk-fed lamb cut like a chicken, braised with wine, rosemary, and anchovy until the meat surrenders to the fork. The anchovy disappears. The flavor does not.
A cooking platform built around craft, culture, and the stories behind what we eat.

Created by
Roman lamb chops grilled over scorching heat, seasoned with nothing but salt, rosemary, and fire. You eat them with your hands, straight from the grill, burning your fingers because you cannot wait.
Scottadito means 'burn your fingers,' and this is not poetry. It is instruction. These lamb chops come off the grill so hot that waiting for them to cool would be an insult to the cook, to the lamb, and to Rome itself. You pick them up by the exposed bone. You bite into meat that is still almost too hot to eat. You burn your fingers. This is correct.
The Romans understand something about lamb that other cooks forget: young lamb needs almost nothing. Salt. Heat. Perhaps rosemary if you are feeling generous. What you keep out is as significant as what you put in. There is no marinade here, no elaborate spice rub, no sauce. The lamb tastes like lamb, like smoke, like the rosemary that grows wild on Roman hillsides.
This is Easter food in Rome, when the abbacchio, the milk-fed lamb of Lazio, is at its most tender. But Romans grill these chops whenever the weather permits and often when it does not. The preparation takes minutes. The eating takes less.
Abbacchio refers specifically to milk-fed lamb slaughtered before weaning, a Roman tradition dating to ancient times when sacrificial lambs were prepared for spring festivals. The scottadito preparation emerged from the shepherd culture of the Roman Campagna, where herders grilled lamb over open fires and ate immediately, without plates or ceremony. The dish remains inseparable from Roman Easter tables.
Quantity
16 (about 3 pounds)
frenched
Quantity
4 tablespoons
Quantity
2 tablespoons
chopped fine
Quantity
to taste
Quantity
to taste
freshly ground
Quantity
2
cut into wedges
| Ingredient | Quantity |
|---|---|
| lamb rib chopsfrenched | 16 (about 3 pounds) |
| extra virgin olive oil | 4 tablespoons |
| fresh rosemary leaveschopped fine | 2 tablespoons |
| kosher salt | to taste |
| black pepperfreshly ground | to taste |
| lemonscut into wedges | 2 |
Remove the lamb chops from the refrigerator one hour before cooking. Cold meat on a hot grill seizes. The chops should reach room temperature. Trim any excessive fat, but leave a thin layer for flavor and char. Pat each chop completely dry with paper towels.
Rub the chops on both sides with olive oil. Season generously with salt and pepper. Press the chopped rosemary onto both sides of each chop. The oil helps it adhere. Do not marinate. Do not add garlic. Do not add anything else. This dish exists because of what it leaves out.
Build a hot fire in a charcoal grill, or heat a gas grill to its highest setting. The grates must be scorching. Hold your hand five inches above the grate. If you cannot keep it there for more than two seconds, the heat is correct. Clean and oil the grates.
Place the chops on the hottest part of the grill. Do not move them. Let them sear undisturbed for two to three minutes until deeply charred on the bottom. Flip once. Cook another two to three minutes for medium-rare. The interior should reach 130 degrees, no more. Thin chops cook faster. Watch them.
Transfer the chops to a warm platter. Do not let them rest. The name means 'burn your fingers' because Romans eat these immediately, picking them up by the bone while the meat is still too hot to handle comfortably. Squeeze lemon over the chops at the table. Eat with your hands. This is correct. This is tradition.
1 serving (about 200g)
Culinary guides, cultural storytelling, and the editorial depth that makes cooking meaningful.
Discover Culinary Explorer
Chef Graziella
Roman milk-fed lamb cut like a chicken, braised with wine, rosemary, and anchovy until the meat surrenders to the fork. The anchovy disappears. The flavor does not.

Chef Graziella
The Sunday lamb of Puglia, roasted with potatoes until they absorb every precious drop of rendered fat. In this dish, the potatoes become the reason you came to the table.

Chef Graziella
The grand boiled dinner of Piedmont, where seven cuts of meat surrender slowly to the poaching liquid, emerging tender enough to cut with a fork. This is a dish for the table you set when everyone comes home.

Chef Graziella
The Sunday ritual of Naples: beef rolls stuffed with pine nuts, raisins, and garlic, braised in tomato sauce until surrendering to tenderness. The sauce goes to the pasta. The meat comes second.