Aromatic braised lamb shanks

A few years ago, when lamb shanks hadn't appeared on every pub menu in the country, they were a great cheap alternative to other cuts. These days, unfortunately, they're a bit pricier as people have become less scared of pieces of meat with bones in them - a shame, because when braised they're easy to handle and taste fantastic, their meat sweet from proximity to the bone and luxurious in the mouth from long simmering.

Because this is such a lusciously rich cut, lamb shanks benefit from lots of aromatics to lift the flavour. I've used a mixture of French and Moroccan flavours to produce what I imagine you might do with lamb shanks in Marrakesh. I have never been to Marrakesh, and this would probably be considered totally weird by any real Moroccans, but I'm very pleased with the results. Don't be put off by the long ingredients list; this isn't hard to make, and can all be done on the stove top.

To serve two, you'll need:

2 lamb shanks
3 carrots
5 sticks celery
1 large white onion
1 head garlic
½ bottle red wine
800ml stock (use lamb stock if you have some in the freezer - otherwise chicken will be fine)
800g passata
2 tablespoons tomato puree
2 tablespoons balsamic vinegar
1 heaped tablespoon soft brown sugar
1 tablespoon Ras al Hanout
1 inch piece of ginger, grated
1 teaspoon coriander seeds
1 teaspoon cumin seeds
1 teaspoon fennel seeds
1 teaspoon fresh thyme leaves
½ stick cinnamon
2 dried chilllies
Juice and zest of 1 lemon
1 can chick peas
Salt and pepper
Olive oil

Dice the onions, carrots and celery, chop the garlic and grind the fennel, cumin and coriander seeds together in a mortar and pestle. Rub the lamb shanks with salt and pepper.

Heat about 5 tablespoons of olive oil over a high flame in the bottom of a heavy casserole dish with a close-fitting lid until it begins to shimmer, then brown the lamb shanks all over in it. Remove the browned meat to a large bowl, and turn the heat down to medium. Add the diced vegetables to the oil you browned the meat in and sweat them with the garlic, grated ginger, Ras al Hanout, ground spices, thyme, cinnamon and chillies.

Cook the aromatic mixture without browning until the vegetables are turning soft, keeping everything moving, then return the lamb to the casserole. Pour over the wine, stock and passata and simmer for five minutes. Add the balsamic vinegar, sugar, lemon juice and lemon zest with some salt to taste (I used just over a tablespoon for this volume of sauce.) Turn the heat down to a very gentle simmer, put the lid on and leave for three hours, turning the lamb shanks in the sauce a couple of times during cooking.

When the three hours are up, add the drained chick peas to the pan and simmer for a further fifteen minutes. The sauce will have become rich and thick (insert joke about ideal spouse here). Skim off any fat that has risen to the surface, and serve with mashed potatoes to mop up the delicious sauce.

Lamb casserole with apricots and preserved lemon

Looking back over the last couple of weeks, it strikes me that I'm cooking an awful lot of orange stuff. (There are things you've not seen, too - I find myself repeatedly making potatoes mashed with swede and carrot as a side dish, and roasting butternut squashes for my lunch.) I am guessing that this has something to do with shortening days and a craving for sunshine, and that after we start getting more sunlight again after December 21, I'll start moving towards yellow food and onward through the spectrum until we get back to the tomato season again.

This is another recipe for those of you who made the preserved lemons from a few months back. They're smelling just wonderful now; all the flavour has been pulled out of the spices in the jar and has lodged itself in the flesh of the lemons. Strangely Christmas-y, via Morocco.

The other ingredients in this recipe are largely Moroccan (although I doubt that a real Moroccan would look very kindly on the flour-thickened cider sauce). A few companies in the UK produce harissa, but I only recommend one - Belazu, who also make preserved lemons if you don't have your own, do a very fine, warmly spiced harissa made with rose petals. It's available in most supermarkets. I've tried a few other brands, and they are nothing like as good.

To serve two greedy people, you'll need:

2-inch piece of ginger
5 cloves garlic
4 shallots
12 apricots
500g lamb neck fillets
1 tsp harissa
½ a preserved lemon
1 litre cider
1 sprig rosemary
1 tbsp flour
Oregano to garnish
Olive oil

Cut the lamb into cubes and heat a tablespoon of olive oil in a large, heavy-bottomed pan (as always, Le Creuset pans are your best bet here for a really even heat). When the oil is hot, brown the lamb pieces a few at a time and remove them to a bowl when seared.

When you have browned all the lamb, look at the pan - if there is only very little oil left, add another tablespoonful. Bring the heat down to medium and add the shallots to the pan. When the shallots are beginning to take on some colour, add the sliced garlic, the julienned ginger, the lamb, the diced skin of the half-lemon (reserve the flesh) and the apricots to the pan. Cook, stirring well, for another five minutes, then add the flour to the pan, stirring to make sure the flour is coating everything.

Pour the cider over the lamb and add the diced flesh of the lemon, the rosemary and the harissa to the mixture. Bring to a gentle simmer, cover and leave to simmer for two hours. When the two hours are up, taste the sauce. You may not need to add any salt (there is lots in the lemon), but I found an extra teaspoonful made the balance just right. Garnish the dish with oregano.

The cider will have turned into a sweetly fruity sauce, and the lamb will be extremely tender. I served this with mashed potato, but it's also very good with couscous.

Chicken with cardamom and preserved lemons

Remember those Moroccan preserved lemons from a few months back? They turned out very nicely indeed - salty, zingy skins infused with the scents of the spices in the jar. One of the spices I used in the preserved lemons was cardamom, and I've used more in this dish; along with the lemons and some flowery olive oil, it lifts and brightens the flavour of this chicken dish. Pure sunshine in a bowl - and that's just what I feel like in dismal October. Be sure when choosing your ingredients that you use an olive oil with a good flavour.

I've used a box of the tiny fillets (sometimes called chicken tenders) you'll find to one side of a chicken breast here. They're a very easy piece of meat to work with if you're in a hurry - no skinning or chopping necessary. To serve two, you'll need:

450g chicken fillet pieces
3 shallots
3 tablespoons polenta or cornmeal
8 cardamom pods
1 preserved lemon
4 tablespoons good extra-virgin olive oil
1 handful parsley, chopped
Salt and pepper

Start by scraping the pulp out of the inside of the preserved lemon (the pulp of these is too salty to eat). Dice the skin and pour over three tablespoons of the olive oil, then set aside while you prepare the rest of the meal.

Slice the shallots very finely and put them in a large bowl with the chicken. Bash the cardamom pods lightly in a mortar and pestle to crack their tough skins, then use the back of a teaspoon or a fingernail to get all the seeds out. Discard the empty pods and crush the seeds in the mortar and pestle. Mix the cardamom seeds, polenta and some salt and pepper, then sprinkle evenly over the chicken and shallots and mix well.

Heat the remaining tablespoon of olive oil in a large sauté pan over a high flame. Tip in all the chicken mixture and sauté until crisp and brown. Remove the chicken and crispy shallots to a clean bowl and pour over the lemon and oil mixture and some parsley, tossing like a salad to mix. Serve immediately.

Spicy couscous

It took me a while to come around to couscous. My first (and second, and third, and fourth) experience with it was disappointing - in France, there are lots of Moroccan couscous restaurants serving wet, wet stews and dry, dry couscous to soak up your sauce with. Back when we lived in Paris, these restaurants were actually a lot of fun with friends...but they weren't somewhere I looked to for delicious carbohydrate.

So I steered clear of couscous (which is not a milled grain, but actually almost a kind of pasta, made by rolling damp semolina flour between the hands and then powdering the resulting 'grains' with dry flour to stop them sticking) for some years, until we went to a friend's house here in the UK and she served a flavoured couscous. This wasn't stick-to-the-roof-of-your-mouth dry like the stuff I'd had before - it was moistened with lots of sweet butter and spiked with spices, onion and a clever agrodolce - a vinegar/sugar mix. The addition of a small amount of a good vinegar lifts the flavour and really enlivens the spices, without adding any vinegary, sour taste - try it. It'll surprise you.

Since then we've eaten couscous several times a month. It's a great accompaniment to middle-eastern dishes, and it also goes surprisingly well with grilled meats. Couscous keeps well, once cooked, in the fridge, and can be eaten cold (very good as a salad at a picnic with some chopped tomatoes, celery, cucumber and olive oil thrown in) or reheated in the microwave.

To make couscous as an accompaniment for four, you'll need:

4 shallots, chopped finely
1 stick celery, chopped finely
4 cloves garlic, chopped
1 tablespoon olive oil
2 large knobs butter
1 teaspoon cumin, crushed in a mortar and pestle
1 teaspoon coriander, crushed in a mortar and pestle
1 inch-long piece cinnamon
1 teaspoon Ras al Hanout (use Belazu brand if you can find it)
2 bay leaves
1 tablespoon sherry vinegar
1 teaspoon caster sugar
250g couscous
450ml chicken stock
Salt and pepper

Fry the shallot, celery and garlic in a large, heavy-bottomed pan in the olive oil and a knob of butter, until the shallots are translucent. Add the cumin, coriander, cinnamon, Ras al Hanout, bay leaves, a teaspoon of salt and a generous amount of freshly ground pepper, and continue to fry for two minutes until the spices are giving up their aroma.

Add the vinegar and sugar to the hot pan. It will bubble and spit. Keep the pan on the heat, stirring, until the vinegar reduces to a glossy syrup. Add the dry couscous to the pan and stir well to make sure it is completely mixed with the other flavourings. Pour the hot stock into the pan and put the lid on. Turn the heat down low and simmer for about 7 minutes, until all the stock is absorbed into the couscous. Take the second knob of butter and fluff it through the grains and taste to check the seasoning, adding more salt if necessary. Garnish with some fresh herbs - I like oregano and parsley.

Preserved lemons

I have been having some very good dreams recently about those sweetbreads with preserved lemon I ate a couple of weeks ago at Moro. Although sweetbreads are pretty hard to find round here, Moroccan preserved lemons are not - you can buy Belazu's very good lemons at the supermarket, or make your own. I chose to make my own, because making preserves gives me a self-righteous glow and something nice to display in the kitchen.

This is a really easy preserve to make, largely because it involves no cooking. The lemons are preserved in salt and their own tart juices, with spices and herbs tucked in between. Once ready, the rinsed lemons' skins can be used as a condiment, and their pulp and juice as a seasoning. To fill a sterilised 1.5 litre jar, you'll need:

About 15 unwaxed lemons (buy a few extra in case you need the juice)
500g coarse salt
2 bay leaves
3 cardamom pods
10 coriander seeds
3 dried chillies
1 cinnamon stick
5 cloves

Begin by making a 2 cm layer of salt at the bottom of the jar, and dropping a couple of the whole spices in it. Take a lemon and cut the top and the bottom off. Make as if you are going to cut the lemon in half from top to bottom, but don't cut through the last 1 cm of flesh and skin. Turn the lemon upside down and make another cut from top to bottom, as if you were going to quarter the fruit, again not cutting all the way through. You'll end up with a lemon with two top-to-bottom slits in it. Holding the fruit above the neck of the jar, stuff each slit with as much salt as you can fit in, then drop it into the jar, pushing it firmly into a corner.

Continue filling your lemons with salt and packing them firmly into the jar, sprinkling salt and spices between them as you go. You'll notice that the juice from the squashed lemons will begin to cover the fruits as you work. When you have packed as many lemons into the jar as will fit, squeeze over fresh lemon juice until the top lemon is at least 1 cm deep in the preserving liquid.

Put the lid on tightly and leave the lemons in a warm place (the kitchen worksurface will do just fine) for six weeks, shaking the jar gently every day to mix the ingredients. The lemons, once ready, do not need to be refrigerated, and will keep indefinitely - if, once you start using them, the liquid no longer covers all the lemons, just add more salt and lemon juice.