
Chef Thomas
Beef and Ale Stew
Braising steak surrendered to dark ale and slow time, with onions and mushrooms, until the gravy turns thick and malty and the kitchen smells like the kind of evening you want to stay in for.
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Created by Chef Thomas
Lamb shoulder braised gently in white wine with the first carrots, new potatoes, peas, and broad beans of the season, finished with lemon, parsley, and mint. A stew that remembers it's spring.
The first warm Saturday of April. The market had lamb from the hill farm, new potatoes still caked in dark soil, baby carrots no longer than your finger, and a bag of broad beans the stallholder said had been picked that morning. I didn't have a plan. The market decides.
Not all good stews belong to winter. This one is lighter, brighter, built on white wine and good stock rather than anything dark or heavy. The lamb braises gently until it gives way, and then the young vegetables go in at the end, so they keep their colour and their bite. Peas and broad beans last of all, barely in the broth long enough to warm through. The whole thing finishes with lemon juice, torn mint, and a scattering of parsley, and it smells like the season turning over.
I wrote it down in the notebook last spring: lamb, new vegetables, the kitchen window open for the first time since October. That was the evening I remembered why stew isn't a winter word. It's a way of cooking that belongs to any season that gives you good ingredients and a reason to stay in the kitchen.
A recipe is a conversation, not a contract. If the market has turnips instead of carrots, use those. If you can't find broad beans, more peas will do. Your kitchen, your rules. We're only making dinner.
Quantity
700g
bone out, cut into generous chunks
Quantity
2 tablespoons
Quantity
a good knob
Quantity
1
halved and sliced
Quantity
2 sticks
sliced
Quantity
2 cloves
crushed with the flat of a knife
Quantity
1 tablespoon
Quantity
150ml
Quantity
500ml
Quantity
a few sprigs
Quantity
2
Quantity
300g
halved or quartered depending on size
Quantity
200g
scrubbed and left whole
Quantity
150g
Quantity
150g
podded (frozen are fine)
Quantity
a handful
roughly chopped
Quantity
a handful
torn
Quantity
half
juiced
Quantity
to taste
Quantity
to taste
| Ingredient | Quantity |
|---|---|
| lamb shoulderbone out, cut into generous chunks | 700g |
| olive oil | 2 tablespoons |
| unsalted butter | a good knob |
| onionhalved and sliced | 1 |
| celerysliced | 2 sticks |
| garliccrushed with the flat of a knife | 2 cloves |
| plain flour | 1 tablespoon |
| dry white wine | 150ml |
| lamb or chicken stock | 500ml |
| thyme | a few sprigs |
| bay leaves | 2 |
| new potatoeshalved or quartered depending on size | 300g |
| baby carrotsscrubbed and left whole | 200g |
| fresh or frozen peas | 150g |
| broad beanspodded (frozen are fine) | 150g |
| flat-leaf parsleyroughly chopped | a handful |
| mint leavestorn | a handful |
| lemonjuiced | half |
| fine sea salt | to taste |
| black pepper | to taste |
Pat the lamb dry. This matters. Wet meat doesn't brown, it steams, and browning is where the flavour starts. Heat the olive oil in a heavy casserole over a high heat until it shimmers. Season the lamb generously with salt and pepper, then lay the pieces into the pan in a single layer. Don't crowd them. You may need to do this in two batches. Leave the meat alone for three or four minutes until the underside has gone a deep, sticky brown, then turn and do the same on the other side. When the kitchen smells of something savoury and promising, you're there. Set the lamb aside on a plate.
Turn the heat down. Add the butter to the pan and let it melt into the lamb drippings. Put in the onion and celery with a pinch of salt and cook gently, stirring now and then, until the onion is soft and translucent and the celery has lost its crunch. Ten minutes or so. Add the garlic for the last minute. You'll smell it when it's ready.
Scatter the flour over the vegetables and stir it through for a minute. It thickens the broth just enough to give it body without making it heavy. Pour in the wine and let it bubble, scraping up any caramelised bits from the bottom of the pan with a wooden spoon. Those bits are flavour. When the wine has reduced by half, add the stock, the thyme, and the bay leaves. Return the lamb and any juices from the plate. The liquid should come about two-thirds of the way up the meat, not covering it entirely. Bring to a gentle simmer.
Put the lid on, slightly ajar, and turn the heat to its lowest setting. You want a lazy bubble, nothing more. A simmer, not a boil. Let the lamb cook for about an hour, checking once or twice. The meat is done when it yields to a fork without resistance, almost falling apart but not quite. If the liquid reduces too much, add a splash of water. This isn't a thick gravy. It's a broth.
Add the new potatoes and the baby carrots to the pot, pushing them gently into the liquid. Put the lid back on and cook for another fifteen to twenty minutes, until the potatoes are tender when you press them with a knife. Now add the peas and the broad beans. They need almost nothing: five minutes in the hot broth is enough. Overcook them and you lose the green, the sweetness, the whole point of spring in the pot.
Take the pot off the heat. Fish out the thyme stalks and the bay leaves. Squeeze in the lemon juice and stir it through. It lifts everything, brightens the broth, wakes the whole dish up. Taste the broth and season it properly. Salt first, then pepper. Scatter the parsley and the torn mint over the top. Serve it straight from the pot, ladled into warm bowls with good bread to mop up the broth. There are few better feelings than putting a bowl of this in front of someone on a cool April evening.
1 serving (about 550g)
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