La Calderata

The Birchingtons were round for lunch. And even if I say so myself the slow cooked lamb done Extramadura style was a triumph. Cooked on a bed of onions and garlic, rosemary, thyme, fennel seed, smoked paprika and a small lake of cheap white wine it requires regular basting, turning over and general attention but results in a beautifully roasted and glazed finish with moist tender meat and a rich, deeply flavoured and strangely exotic sauce. It was preceded by little croustades of champignon a' la Amontillado, a plate of super fresh Brit asparagas and a beurre noisette and followed by a light salad of endive, radicchio, fennel and scorched red pepper and topped off with a strawberry and apple crumble (thanks to Heston for that amazingly good combination) crumble and vanilla ice cream with the obligatory Madigascan Vanilla.

I find it hard to come up with whole meal menus but this lot worked fantastically well together. The excellent New Zealand Pinot Noir from the guests was very morish and complimented the lamb as if they had been designed together.

It was a grand lunch that migrated into the afternoon with much laughter and the warmth and familiarity of old friends.

In all my performative anxiety with regard to the cooking and prep and my state of befuddlement somewhat later in the day the Blip of the calderata went begging and I ended up with an iPad selfie at lights out. Which I have duly mucked about with at the processing bench. 

The recipe for La Calderata is in the Moro East cookbook.

We were also given a lovely book about the cheating ways of the Cuckoo - a bird I have not heard for years - and the evolutionary race between it and its unwitting surrogate parents.