Rib Lamb Chops & Herbs de Provence

Yield: Serves 6-8

While I was living at home, we never had lamb that I can remember. Why, I don’t know. But my best friend’s mother served it often at her dinner table during our high school years. I was never really fond of it. It was usually stewed and had flavors of mixed sauces I was not familiar with.

I’m relatively new to lamb, having it on a regular basis for only about 15 years – almost always at business dinners, if it was available. But my favorite preparation styles are always, grilled, sautéed in a pan or oven broiled, like a steak or pork chop. Oh, what a flavor searing gives it…!

You can finish lamb with an unlimited variety of preparation methods and spices – French, Greek and Spanish, for example. Marinades and sauces are limited only by the imagination. It is affordable. Although I’m always chasing the perfect New York strip and rarely finding it, I probably consume half as much red meat as in the past because of lamb, pork and chicken – that’s a good thing.

And this brings me back to a story about my best friend, while in high school. On a Friday night, at his dinner table, after finishing a lamb stew (we were 15, at the time), we began to design a  trip to his future home, still under construction, in one of the far suburbs of Chicago, Barrington. Of course our parents would never know of our clandestine intentions.

Our story was, we were getting together early Saturday in the morning and play at the nearby lake front park, all day. We would return in time for supper at 5. This was normal activity for us, and our parents never policed our whereabouts. After all, we were almost adult and, they assumed, as most parents do, we were responsible at this stage of our lives. Of course, most of the time we were – but the bug of piracy adventure overcame us.

We were inventive. We took the Irving Park bus west to the commuter train station. We gave the conductor our fares. We had and felt our independence. How mature we were; how great it was, and our parents were not the wiser. Only 8 stops to go, to put us at our destination.

From there we had to hitch-hike quite a stretch – first north on highway 59 and then west on Roberts Road. It was perhaps 15 miles in total. But it was do-able. With thumbs out and innocent, staring requests at drivers that travelled past us on a two lane highway at 60 miles per hour, it wasn’t long before we were given a ride. “Hop in, where do you need to go?” was the question. “Roberts Road,” we replied. In 10 minutes we were there – one leg down and one to go.

This story looks like its getting a little long. I was a fairly respectable guitar player of folk music back in those days (having been offered to play solo gigs, at 15, at respectable clubs in Old Town on Friday and Saturday nights, prime time - but that's another story). Classical guitar was beyond my reach. Let's listen to this piece, by Isaac Albenitz, an excellent guitarist...that should help us through this tale.



This summer day it was going to be a hot one. It was already 85 degrees, cloudless and only eight-thirty in the morning. Each of us was able to make ourselves a sandwich before we left. A couple of slices of rye bread, some lunch meat and cheese were the fare, and would not be noticeably missed. We both had enough sense to know that butter or mayonnaise was not going to survive.

We were dressed cleanly, appeared well mannered and walked along the highway politely. But I think it was the brown paper sandwich bags that told drivers we were good kids, not troublemakers or, as was customary to say, hoodlums. It was the sandwich bags that got us the rides. I'm convinced of it.

We did not worry much at that time, about our safety. Hell, we were 15, indestructible and, at worst, we could probably outrun most of the trouble we might have gotten ourselves into. That's what we believed. It was still a time when most people were human – decent; they looked out for each other. Drivers almost felt an obligation to help two boys get where they needed to go. They had our safety in mind on one hand, and wanted to know where we were off to, on the other. I think it could be called a symbiotic relationship – that’s what we told ourselves.

Roberts Road was a road less travelled; many open farms stretched across the landscape, only a few residential homes existed here and there. But luck was on our side again. A big Pontiac would pick us up. Only six miles to the Mobil station and we would be there. Success was achieved. We called each other Huckleberry and Finn.

So we spent the day doing nothing, really. John showed me his soon to be new home. He was very proud that he and his father were building it from scratch, one two-by-four at a time. It was a wonder - a 3 bedroom home with all glass windows, floor to ceiling, in the living, dining, kitchen and family rooms. A home in the countryside on 2 acres of land, away from the city, it was something to astonish.

Water was available. But it was a hot day and we needed to somehow cool off. By now it was 1 o’clock. We had to think about cooling off and prepare for the trip home. John said he knew of a pond only 300 yards up the road. It was very secluded; we could take our clothing off and jump in. No one would see us. So off we went.

After closer inspection, we called it a mud hole. We tested it by plunging our feet into it. We could feel the grit. They disappeared. Visibility was zero, but we took ourselves in and it was refreshing. We could only handle about 5 minutes in the muck. We feared underwater snakes and who knows what else. We looked at each other, climbed out and the heat almost instantly dried us. We were still in one peace. No mosquitoes yet.

It was a great day. We were independent and conquerors of time and places.

The trip back home was as successful as on the way out. We arrived a little before 4 o’clock. That gave us plenty of safety margin. We went to his house first, to check in.

His mother was home, preparing dinner. The aromas were unbelievable. Oh, what a sweet meal it was, cooking. I think it was pot roast. His mother was a wise woman – always believed in you and your potential. Only able to have one child, she loved boys and had a swarm of her son’s friends over as often as she could. She looked out for us, gave us hell when she felt we needed it – threatened to smack us one on the ears, if she thought we deserved it. We respected her and loved her. She treated us all as one of her own. In return, we made sure she was always safe. We called her Mom.

“Hi Mom,” John shouted out, “We had a great day at the park. Do you believe how hot it was today?” She replied, “Hello boys,” “yes it was hot.”

Whew…! All is well. We pulled it off. Our journey would never be discovered. “I’m glad you boys are back safe. How was your day?" "Fine," we said. "How was the train ride?” she questioned. “You must be hungry, having had only one sandwich for the whole day.”

Dead silence. John and I swallowed our tongues. Our mouths dropped to our belt line. Our faces became crimson. Our skin crawled with fear…

She turned and looked at us and burst into laughter. “Sit down boys, I’ve got some fresh, cold lemonade for you; and, take off those clothes – you stink like that mud hole – both of you. I better wash them, before your dad comes home.”

We changed. We had ice cold, tangy lemonade.

My clothes were dry and I went home for dinner. We had German liver dumpling soup and Brats with roasted potatoes and sauerkraut.

Life was good.

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Ingredients

   • 10 rib lamb chops (3/4 inch thick)
   • 6 tblsp olive oil
   • 2 tblsp dried herbs de Provence
   • 2 cloves garlic, mashed to a paste
   • Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper
   • Fresh lemon juice

Preparation

Prepare the Lamb
   1. Make a paste with 4 tablespoons of oil, garlic & herbs de Provence
   2. Thoroughly rub the paste into the lamb chops
   3. Set lamb aside to marinade for 30 minutes
   4. Generously season both sides of the lamb chops with salt & pepper, to taste

Sauté the Lamb
   1. Heat a large pan on medium-high, add 2 tablespoons of olive oil
   2. Sear 3 to 4 lamb chops 2-3 minutes per side (medium-rare), until golden brown
   3. Set lamb to the side, loosely cover with foil and let rest 3-5 minutes

Serve

   Serve with buttered, mashed or boiled potatoes and crisp, steamed asparagus or fresh-cut green beans
   Pour natural juices from the pan onto the potatoes & chops.
   Sprinkle lamb chops very slightly with fresh lemon juice, as desired.

Herbs de Provence

Although there are regional and personal variations of this French herb mixture, if you do not have it as a purchased, readymade spice, you can make it with this recipe. I also use this often for other dishes like pork and roasted chicken. Add it to pizza saucees or sprinkle over game or kabobs before roasting. It's also good for seasoning salads, as well as soups and stews.

   • 1 tblsp thyme
   • 1 tblsp chervil
   • 1 tblsp rosemary
   • 1 tblsp summer savory
   • 1 tsp lavender
   • 1 tsp tarragon
   • 1 tsp marjoram
   • 1/2 tsp mint
   • 1/2 tsp oregano
   • 2 finely chopped bay leaves
   • 1/2 tsp cracked fennel seeds (optional)
   • 1/2 tsp sage (optional)

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