Abbacchio alla Romana

In Rome, Easter means abbacchio. The word itself tells you everything: it comes from the Latin for 'young lamb,' and in the markets around Campo de' Fiori, the butchers display whole carcasses no bigger than a house cat. This is milk-fed lamb, slaughtered before it ever tastes grass, and its flesh is pale, delicate, and impossibly tender.

The Romans cut abbacchio into pieces the way Americans cut chicken, through the bone, creating portions that braise evenly and release their marrow into the sauce. The cooking method is direct. Brown the meat. Add garlic, rosemary, anchovies, wine. Cover and wait. The anchovies dissolve completely, leaving no trace of themselves except a depth of flavor that makes people ask what your secret is. You do not tell them.

What you keep out matters here as much as what you put in. There is no tomato in true abbacchio alla romana. There is no onion, no carrot, no celery. The lamb speaks for itself, supported by wine and herbs and the invisible hand of the anchovy. If your lamb is good, you need nothing else. If your lamb is not good, no amount of ingredients will save you.