A sunday night trip to Armenia and some rifle rod lamb

I read André Gide in college. I read a lot in college and generally became pretty educated around literature of a certain tone. I learned a lot about how the French  and the Germans and of course The RUSSIANS (you must always capitalize that once you've worked your way through all of Dostoyesvski, Tolstoy, Chekhov, Pushkin, Turgenov and Gorky) think. But one thing I didn't know until just recently was that alongside his literary wanderings, André Gide was also a pretty snappy cook who loved collecting recipes from the many foreign lands he trekked through.

Duh, he was French.

My favorite from the recipes I've seen has become lamb kebobs; fire roasted, skewered on his rifle cleaning rod in the wilds of Armenia.  The recipe sounds tremendous on paper and is equally great in reality with very little variation necessary.

I love lamb most of all and I eagerly tried this actually rather simple, yet supremely scrumptious approach.  Funny how the simple side of Occam's razor is almost always the sharpest.

Armenian Lamb Kabobs via  André Gide

It'a all about the marinade, really

In a big wooden bowl I put together:

• A half cup of dry red wine.  I like Italian, Spanish or Argentine house reds for cooking, but any non fruity red will do.  The thing is, you only need a half a cup, so buy something that is also quite drinkable for maximum enjoyment on all levels. Choose wisely.

• Then add 3/4 cup of extra virgin olive oil.  Again, as in everything, use the highest quality you can afford and find.  A chain is only as strong as its weakest link.

• 1/4 cup of tomato paste

• 2 tbsp or red wine vinegar

• 1 med onion, roughly chopped

• 6 cloves garlic, finely chopped

• 1 tsp marjoram

• 1/2 tsp black pepper

• 1/4 tsp allspice

• A fistfull of fresh mint leaves from the garden  crumpled and muddled (that's my own, not Gide's as 2015 is the year of the mint here in Canyon)

Whisk this together until it smells of the mountains of North West Afghanistan and the broad high plains of Armenia in the late 1800'a when Gide was traveling through. You'll know it when it hits you like a fragrant hot wind, trust me.

Grab a 2 to 3 lbs lamb shoulder and slice and dice it into 1 inch or larger squares (trimming off the superfluous fat, but leaving a bit to help the flames later on) and throw them into your whisked up mixture and toss like a salad.  Then transfer the entirely odiferous magic into 1 or more gallon freezer bags, shake a bit while drinking a cup of the aforementioned wine and then place them in the refrigerator overnight.  Oh, did I neglect to tell you that you don't get to eat this until tomorrow afternoon?

Trust me, the wait is well worth it.

After a long night of dreaming of Kabobs and mujahideen freedom fighters BBQing spring lambs as the first snows have melted off the high passes, take your freezer bags out of the refrigerator a couple of hours before show time, so they can get back up to room temp and grill more evenly.

Once warmed up, they're ready for skewering and grilling.  In Gide's account, lacking a skewer he pulled out his rifle's cleaning rod and used that to pierce the lamb and onions (and for this fine  afternoon, for our purposes, some red bell peppers).  Lacking a rifle cleaning rod, I pull out my 3' steel kabob skewers. I can't recall where I got them from, but they look like a cross between lawn darts and a fencing foil and each easily hold 1 pound and a half of freshly marinated Lamb along with some tiny stewing onions and peppers. They are an awesome tool and or course a workman is only as good as his tools will allow.

Moving outside I crank the BFG 2000 up to about 600 degrees and then grill the kabobs, allowing the flame-ups to sear and cook the lamb till it's energetically crispy on the outside while still slightly rare and super juicy on the inside (to get that necessary flame you left on just a thin membrane of fat, as instructed, yes?).




Turn frequently to get an equal sear on all sides and in roughly 10 mins tops you'll be ready to place your lamb and grilled onions on a side of rice (or polenta, which is my fav as it tastes better initially and soaks up and absorbs the lamb essence into its nature more confidently than rice).






Dayam!  Eaten outside at the dimming of  evening into night with a cup of strong red wine, I feel like the poet himself must have felt on a hot evening in the Afghan hills.

Enjoy.