Spinach and lemon orzo with lamb snags

5 Apr

Written By Antony

There’s a certain kind of tyranny baked into a recipe. “Cut that this big. Weigh those precisely. Use this sized pot. Cook for exactly this amount of time. No, DON’T stir yet. OK, stir NOW. And put a lid on that, would you?”

A recipe doesn’t come across as particularly negotiable and yeah, we know. We write the things so we’re guilty of barking orders too. But did you ever think about how chefs don’t use recipes? Because they really don’t, except for desserts and baking where ratios are crucial. Even so with bread making, say, there’s still some intuition required and the ability to free-wheel (because flour absorbs more or less water depending on the batch, and variable ambient temperatures and humidity impact rising times). To do this, you need to follow a recipe but also understand underlying concepts and make judgment calls as you go. Blindly following a recipe doesn’t always work.

Yep; chef’s don’t use recipes because they’re schooled in the basic techniques of cooking. Meaning they can take a general process like ‘braising’, for example, and apply it to the appropriate cuts of meat, liquids, aromatics and accompaniments, following the generalised methods and cook times stowed under their starched toques (now you know why they wear them). The pros know what goes with what for harmonious flavour-layering, how long things take to cook, and how many serves they’ll get. They build up muscle memory around cooking techniques, they understand how to ‘read’ ingredients in a pan or casserole, and they develop a killer palate to guide them along their merry way.

Take this recipe for orzo. Really, you could do with this what you want so long as you observe the basic principles that ensure your orzo is cooked. You wouldn’t go stewing it overnight in your slow-cooker for example, and nor would you garnish it with hundreds and thousands. Want it soupy? Just turf in more stock until it’s the consistency you desire. Fancy it creamy? Substitute half the stock with milk and/or melt in a lump of butter at the end. Want to play with the flavour profile? Try using orange instead of lemon, fresh rosemary instead of the bay leaves and throwing in some chopped sun-dried tomatoes at the end instead of olives. There – you’ve just created a delish orange-rosemary-tomato creation and why didn’t we think of this sooner? Use rocket, kale or silverbeet instead of spinach. Heck- – use a combo. Turn the thing fully Italian with a few anchovies cooked with the garlic, and halved cherry tomatoes, black olives, basil leaves and torn bits of bocconcini stirred in near the end until they’re variously heated/wilted/vaguely melted. Prefer more substance? Chuck in a can of drained, rinsed chickpeas or cannellini beans. Don’t use parmesan and scatter crumbled feta over the top. Take the orzo in a North African direction with smoked paprika and cumin, ditching the bay and nutmeg in that instance. French onion-ify your orzo by starting with a heap of golden, caramelised onion, using beef stock, and serving your orzo sprinkled with masses of parsley, chopped toasted walnuts and ridiculous amounts of grated gruyere. Shove it under a grill to make the top bubbly if you like. Shall we go on? Because we could. But you get the gist. So don’t be a slave to a recipe. Within reason, bend it to your will, your pantry, or how you’re feeling. Oh and we served ours with little lamby snags (and yes, we realise these look like the droppings of some small furry animal) but you could use chicken, steaks, salmon… or just loads of extra cheese instead. Whatever you damn well like, really. It’s your recipe now!

SERVES 4

2 tbsp extra virgin olive oil, plus extra for cooking the sausages

2 tbsp butter

1 onion, finely chopped

4 cloves garlic

380g (2 cups) orzo

1 bayleaf

½ tsp freshly grated nutmeg

1.25 litres (5 cups) chicken stock

16 small, or 8 large, lamb sausages

200g baby spinach leaves

finely grated zest and juice of 1 lemon

100g (1 cup) finely grated parmesan (optional)

green olives and lemon halves, to serve

Heat the olive oil and butter over medium heat in a large saucepan. Add the garlic and onion, then cook, stirring often, for 6-7 minutes or until softened.

Add the orzo, then stir for about 3 mins until it starts to turn golden. Add the bayleaf, nutmeg and stock, stir to combine, then bring the mixture to a simmer. Cover the pan, then cook, stirring occasionally, for 11 minutes or until the orzo is just tender.

While you make the orzo, heat a little olive oil in a large fryng pan over medium heat. Prick the sausages a few times each with the tip of a small, sharp knife to allow the fat to render out. Pan-fry the sausages, turning often, for 10-15 minutes or until golden and cooked through.

Stir the spinach, lemon juice and zest into the orzo, allowing the spinach to wilt, then stir in the parmesan if you’re using it. Serve the orzo scattered with olives and topped with the lamb sausages, with lemon halves for squeezing over.