Lamb Breast and Nostalgia

Hello everyone! I hope this blog finds you well. If you’re reading this at a later date, I am writing during what looks to be the beginning (but hopefully is the middle) of the Great Coronavirus Catastrophe of 2020.

In the Before Times, when I could move freely around the city and shop without fearing that I would contribute to the spread of a mysterious and deadly pathogen, I often passed by a little hole in the wall on East 12th called the Texas Sausage Company. It’s exactly the kind of place that appeals to my sensibilities. The sign proudly proclaims that the business started in 1942, and no attempt has been made to renovate the building for modern tastes. It’s just a little shack full of meat fighting against the tide of gentrification that threatens to wash away everything left of the history of East Austin.

Even though I walked by the shop on many occasions, it took me three years to actually step inside. And boy howdy I’m glad I did! This butcher shop lived up to my expectations and then some. They pretty much only sell pork country ribs, house-made beef and pork sausage, and what they call mutton (which is actually lamb breast). It’s a one-stop shop for a very old-school Texas BBQ. The butcher cracked me up. He regaled me with tales of getting wasted on extra strong German import beer in the 70s and advised me that nobody will be able to tell the difference between beef and pork sausage once they’re drunk. As he wrapped up my order, he reminded me to save the shitty beer for the end of the party when everybody has low standards. I left with 2 pounds of hot beef sausage and a 4 pound chunk of lamb breast in my hot little hands, all for under 30 bucks.

My acquisition of the lamb breast coincided with a resurgence in my nostalgia for the Jewish deli foods of my youth. Austin is truly a food lover’s paradise, but its deli options are… somewhat limited. I had been nursing a craving for real pastrami or Montreal smoked meat for weeks by the time I was deciding how to cook my lamb. Thus, I decided to try my hand at lamb pastrami, which Wikipedia assures me is a thing.

This isn’t a real pastrami recipe, since I lacked the sodium nitrate necessary to pickle the meat before smoking, but the taste is damn close. The first bite sent me hurtling back to Schwartz’s, but with an extra touch of lamby game flavor. If you find yourself with a lot of extra time right now for some reason, and want to fill that time by babysitting a grill for a couple hours, I heartily recommend this.

Note: Lamb breast isn’t a super commonly available cut of meat in the states, so feel free to make this recipe with any large, fatty cut of red meat. Brisket would slap, as would a chuck roast. You could even make this with pork butt if you wanted to get super traif.

Lamb Breast “Pastrami”

Makes enough for a 3.5 lb piece of meat.

• 3 tbsp kosher salt
• 2 tbsp ground black pepper
• 2 tsp granulated garlic
• 2 tbsp crushed coriander seeds
• 1 tsp crushed chile piquin, or other hot chile powder, or paprika

Season your meat the night before you plan on cooking it. Mix your rub together and apply to all surfaces of the meat, pressing it in to get it to stick. Wrap and let sit overnight in the fridge to allow the salt to penetrate.

Before resting

After resting; the meat has cured slightly

Preheat your oven to 275F. If you think of it, pull your lamb out of the fridge an hour or two before you start cooking to let it come up to room temp. Wrap the lamb in parchment paper like a Christmas present, then wrap that bundle in aluminum foil. Place on a lined baking sheet and cook for around 2 hours.

My kind of Christmas present

Prepare a charcoal grill for indirect heat, piling your coals all on one side of the grill and leaving the other side empty. This will allow your lamb to gently smoke instead of charring. Add some soaked wood chips to your fire if you would like. I had none and it still turned out great. If you have a gas grill, only turn on the burners on one side and put a foil pouch of soaked wood chips on the hot side.

After your 2 hours in the oven, unwrap your lamb package and place the meat on the cool side of the grill. Cook with the lid closed for around an hour and a half, checking every 15 minutes or so to rotate the meat for even cooking and to make sure your coals are still making enough heat. The meat is done when it feels soft when you poke it with your finger.

Fire on one side, lamb on the other

Pull the lamb off the fire and carve. You should be able to wiggle the rib bones out with your fingers. After the ribs are out, find the shoulder blade, and follow it with your knife to completely debone the lamb breast. You can then cut nice boneless slices. Serve with spicy mustard and some rye bread.

Mmmm, meat

The exact ratio of oven time to grill time depends on personal preference. The important rule is that your meat needs about an hour of cooking time per pound. If you want to babysit a fire for 3 and a half hours and want to get kicked in the mouth by smoke flavor, do it all on the grill. If you don’t have a grill, this recipe will still be delicious cooked all the way through in the oven. Just unwrap the meat halfway through so it can develop a crust on the outside. You’re cooking a huge piece of salty, fatty meat; the only way to screw it up is to not cook it long enough or to cook it too hot.