Slow-Cooked Lamb with Potato and Onion



I’ve had an Actual Real Life request to restart the blog. That’s fame, that is.

The reason why I’m able to post is that the oven has been plugged back in. The bad thing about that is that it works, and I had rather hoped that 3 months under a tarp in a damp and crowded back yard might mean the thing gave up the ghost and I could get a new, properly fancy one. Instead we’ve reinstated the new, not-fancy one. I am not someone who loves cleaning ovens so soon I will employ some poor bastard to come and clean it and then pretend the oven is new. For a while.

Anyway, oven. Tick. Hob – well it has gas, but the extractor fan isn’t connected so I can’t do much yet there. I mostly make NewHuman’s pasta on it. Wholewheat pasta. He refuses vegetables of any kind so I trick him by feeding him wholewheat pasta. I’m that kind of amazingly excellent parent.

Kitchen is coming along, although it’s a bloody endless thing. We spent approximately 17 years discussing backsplash options. The people we know on Facebook and Twitter and Instagram were bloody DELIGHTED at the ongoing posts, documenting tortured decision-making, all based around overpriced tiles from the fancy shop down the road.

We went blue. We went chevron. We are lone rangers, not a subway tile nor a shaker-style cabinet can been seen.  We probably no longer qualify to live in our area because of that but OH WELL. We are too poor now to ever move again.

It’s still not finished, as you can see. We still have a fridge in the sitting room. And a microwave.


I have a friend (technically Boyfriend’s friend from uni but we are MARRIED now and so what’s his is mine even more than it ever was before). Let’s call that friend C. Twice we’ve been to lunch with C and his lovely wife, C. We love C, even though he’s nuts. And his Wife C is brilliant. Both times we’ve been served slow cooked lamb with potatoes and onion. Both times it’s been bloody amazing. On a slow amble through Sainsburys over the weekend I chanced across a miniature lamb shoulder, swiftly texted C for the recipe, and made the below.

It’s good.

I’m going to give you the BBC recipe measures, though, as I kind of made them up to go with my mini-shoulder.

  • 3 medium onions, thinly sliced

  • 6 large waxy potatoes peeled and thinly sliced (drives me utterly BONKERS that you can’t buy loose potatoes, unless they’re mega baking ones, in a UK supermarket. You’re always forced to buy a great hulking bag of the buggers or, if you’re a good person, go to the market to get them from the independent trader)

  • 1 bunch thyme, leaves picked (I used rosemary, it was fine)

  • salt and black pepper

  • 1 whole lamb shoulder (I’d say bone-in, please)

  • 1 garlic bulb, peeled and separated into cloves

  • 568ml/1 pint chicken stock (C says you can’t really go too far with this – all stock is good, you’ll need more than you think)

  • cooked green veg to serve (We didn’t, the boyfriend doesn’t love green, except in the bathroom).




Preheat your oven to 130C/Gas Mark 1.

Throw the onions and potatoes and herbs into your baking tray, mix about a little. C is very neat and lays his out a bit like you would moussaka potatoes, or a finely sliced lasagne. I didn’t bother.


Below you can see the state of the kitchen at the time of baking.

It feels like someone else’s kitchen. Like we are visitors. We are cleaning up very well after we use it, as if we are being really polite.

That can’t last.

The missing tiles you can see in the incomplete backsplash are a result of me coming home last Saturday, well refreshed by lunch at the boyfriend’s parent’s, insisting some tiles get replaced because there were wrong by about 1mm. I remain totally unrepentant about putting the tilers through this trauma.


Right – so chuck in your lamb leg on top of the potato/onion love-in, seasoning well. Pour in the stock.

Stab some holes into the lamb, good ones, so you can shove some peeled garlic all the way in. Chuck the extra cloves in with the potatoes, cause you’re a freestyler and recipe be damned.


Into the oven with the lot, for around 4-5hrs, till the top potatoes look nice and crispy and the bottom ones become a muggy sog of chicken-stock deliciousness that you barely even need to chew. Good pensioner food, this.

When done, take it out of the oven and stick it under some foil for 20 mins while you pour a drink, or set the table if you don’t eat your supper in front of the tv (WHO WOULD EVEN DO THAT I DON’T HAVE A CLUE) or settle a shaking dog (three words: fireworks = dog Xanax).

The meat should pull apart with a fork or two. Load the plate. Eat it all. Look sadly at the bare bones, but not as sadly as the dog does when you throw those bare bones straight in the bin.

NewHuman rejected this meal outright, but having previously tricked us by being a lovely natured baby he’s turning into hell toddler so I don’t care and I’ll keep making him eat wholewheat pasta till he’s 21.



3 thoughts on “Slow-Cooked Lamb with Potato and Onion

  1. narf77 says:

    When you want a “new one” you have to verse yourself in nefarious tinkering under tarps to ensure the old one has well and truly given up the ghost when it is time to plug it back in. Just sayin’ for the next time you want to plan ahead…The son-and-heir ate nothing but finger foods for the first part of his life. Nothing soft ever passed that boys lips. Call it suspicion on steroids but everything had to be big enough for him to hold in his hand and examine prior to placing in his mouth. Fruit went in, bread went in and cheese went in. Just about everything else didn’t go in. He is now 32 and still alive so methinks wholemeal pasta is a good start.

    Lovely looking kitchen. If you ever tire of the splashback you can turn it into a garden path. I see, in your image of the raw ingredients, that you have already tired of the splashback and are dismantling it to create that path. That’s one versatile tile arrangement 😉

    See there ya go again, proving that the 2 furry things that we have living with us are possibly not the dogs that we were sold (at not inconsiderable price). All of the things that are supposed to terrify dogs out of their wits don’t work on ours. I keep reading about how dogs are “loyal” and “will do anything for you” and “love their owners with an endless adoration” and then I look down into the eyes of the furry thing that is dancing around at my feet demanding food or a walk or something else that I haven’t quite made out yet (after 4 years of communal living…) and I certainly don’t see that adoration. I am thinking that we were sold wolves in dogs clothing…

    I had one of those amazing babies (1 out of 3 aint bad?) and when she hit teenage angst it was frankly terrifying. The older one at least moved out and the younger one just kept on being difficult, we were used to that but the middle one? The angel? WTF! Now she is 26 (and we live 50km apart) it is fine. I don’t think this reassuring thing is going quite to plan. Ignore my last paragraph 😉

    I wouldn’t worry too much about the toddler. That small lamb shoulder does look suspiciously like a roasted toddler leg… Good to see you back, albeit full of angst. That angst should keep you warm this winter. Here’s hoping the tilers are able to read that angst into your tile removal directives and do the bloody job right next time and get your kitchen sorted for winter!

    • b-kom says:

      The bloody fireworks were going off here for near on 2 weeks, between Diwali and Halloween and Guy Fawkes, and of course here in the UK they’re happy to sell fireworks to anyone with £5 to buy some, so they are literally often going off in the street outside your front door. Not sure that even your pups would love that!

      Kitchen will be fine, we are VERY LUCKY to even have it, so before too long it’ll be over-full of homeless papers and NewHuman toys, like the rest of the house, and we will forget it ever was different.

      Toddlers are a pain in the ass, and we are only at the 18 months old stage. Years of it to come. Years. I am very reassured by the fingerfood anecdote, thank you! That’s all NH wants to eat, the little sod.

      • narf77 says:

        The-son-and-heir is not only 32, but he has a career and a partner and everything…strange food predilections as a toddler may have even had something to do with it. He just took me to see Bill Bailey so keep feeding the toddler that wholewheat pasta and one day it will pay off 😉

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