“ACHOOOOO!”
I should have brought a handkerchief with me. I don’t think I will ever get used to this weather in this town. Wherever I see, there is an inch deep of snow. EVERYWHERE. The windshields on the cars, the awning on that quaint cafe, the icy lamp posts, the sidewal- IS THAT A PUPPY WITH SNOW? No, that’s just a fur coat.
I can feel the chill entering the cracks in my palms, as my skin and muscle stretch carrying two sacks full of supplies. The average passerby will be able to spot me as the cold-blooded mammal that I really am. I am not stocking for the winter. I just moved in 2 days into this cozy little apartment. I have to fill the empty cold box and the shelves. It took forever to set up that kitchen, and even though I had to settle for an induction instead of gas, I am happy with it.
Right. What do I need next? I got eggs, tomatoes, and parsley for tomorrow’s breakfast from down the street. I have a lovely bottle of Merlot from the sommelier whom I complained to about the weather and he was courteous enough to knock down thirty percent. Although, I do have a bottle of Jameson back home. Will deal with that when I get there. And, THE biggest haul from the supermarket I have ever made in life.
As, I recall my exploits in this blizzard of a town, I arrive at my destination, look up and I say out loud,
“Charlie’s Chops”.
Exactly what I need now. Not of Charlie’s but of a lamb’s. I came right to the butcher shop that 2 out of 3 store owners recommended me to go when I asked them. And, I think the sommelier was just vegetarian.
I walk into this shop with a mix of wooden frames, chessboard marble, curved glass, ceramic-ish walls and meat cases. It smells of……well, nothing. Weird.
As I scan the room, my eyes fall on what looks like the most off thing in the entire place. A vintage handmade painting of a mid 50 something man with a very distinctive beard and moustache. It was clear from this pose that he was proud of it and didn’t let anyone touch it.
Near the counter, two arms pop up. Then, a head, and a mouth with a smile which says, “Hi! What can I do for you?”.
I turn around.
Bypassing the usual formalities, I say, “Those are some of the most amazing mutton chops I have seen in my life.” He laughs, and says, “My pops was very proud of that. He raised that ‘stache along with me and this store simultaneously.”
The man at the counter didn’t look like any ordinary butcher. Actually, he didn’t look like one at all. He had very well-maintained dreadlocks flowing out of his head. He wore a stark white shirt with black suspenders running down. Well-built, sturdy, handsome and he-
“HELLO! I asked is that what you were looking for?”
“Oh! Sorry. Looking for what exactly?”
“Mutton chops. Is that why you asked about him?”, said the butcher.
Did he read my mind?
“Actually, yeah. But of a lamb’s. Are you Charlie?”
“No, that’s him on the wall. I’m Shawn.”
“Shawn……chops?”
He let out a courtesy laugh like he heard this phrase a hundred times before.
“No, that’s just purely because of my father’s brush and skill. He used to put up a show for people to see. I grew up watching him dissect, debone, mince, grind, stuff, and smoke meats of every variety. Some say, that he would had been an excellent forensic pathologist. Although, he never did watch those detective-crime thrillers, felt they always exaggerated things when it comes to the human body and meat.”
“Right.” I nodded awkwardly.
“Sorry, but I feel that lamb chops are not the correct choice for you today.”
“Huh?”
“You want to seem to make them for your dinner judging by the size of your bags. I suggest you to take the neck bone instead, and make a hearty stew. It’ll help your cold too and you will have something to eat for the next couple of days while you set up your house.”
I look at him perplexed.
“It’s the nose. Yours is red. Probably not used to the weather. Big bags and questions about my old man. Must be new to town. So, I just figured. I hope I didn’t scare you there.”
Avoiding that last sentence, I say,
“No no, I just don’t know about the neck bone. I was hoping to make some grilled lamb chops for this evening with some garlic, thyme and rosemary. It would go really well some pilaf rice and mixed veg salad.”
“Trust me. With some celery, the bottle of red wine, turmeric and a couple of other spices. It’ll easily warm you up from inside, damn healthy for you…”
How does he know I have these?
“…and the collagen from the neck bone will really help the joints and the skin, especially in this weather.”
Ok, he’s psychic. So, I had to ask.
“How can you tell that I have these?”
“I see your supplies there. The veggies just pop out, that’s easy to spot. The label on your wine is from Jean’s from down the street and it’s a generic red wine bottle I think because he gives it to new customers saying that it’s at a discount to have them come back again. But those are his low-sellers, just to let you know.”
That son of a-!
“And someone didn’t seal your turmeric powder properly. I can see the stains on the bottom corner of your bag. You probably bought it at Sam’s. He’s inattentive to these things. But he has good stuff though, so I wouldn’t worry too much about the quality of that spice.”
I was awe-struck. Had to be by now.
“Are you sure your father’s the one who should have been in forensics? How do you observe these things so quickly?”
“Hey, it wasn’t quick. You took some pretty good time staring at the frame there.”
I smirk at him and say,
“Ok, but I don’t know how make a lamb neck stew. Never made it, and it would take me hours to just simmer and cook it fully. That cut’s not what I am familiar with eating.”
“Well, I can help you with that. I can give you a recipe that’s pretty easy to follow.”
“Do you always not give people what they ask for?”
“I suggest what I think is needed. Some don’t take it, but most do. You seem of the latter type.”
I slam the door behind me with the my left leg rolled up. 2 bags full of supplies to load and a neck bone with decent amount of red meat on it. I got things to chop and a stew to make. Dusted my old pressure cooker from the tsunami aftermath of cardboard boxes. On the stove, set it to high. Oil first.
“Use a neutral oil with high smoke point.”, he said.
Whole spices first. Cinnamon, couple of star anise, bay leaves, ignored cloves cause I don’t like them even if the butcher-psychic said so. Chopped neck bone of the lamb into the pot to add some colour. The smell it gave at this stage made me question my meat and butcher choices but had no option but to move forward. Once the meat was seared, took it out and it gave out a good amount of meat juices. Next went, halved shallots, whole garlic cloves, some celery, diced carrots and some herbs tied in a bag with some peppercorns. Shawn called it something weird,
“Garland garnish”. No. “Boqer garet”. No. “Boquet Garni!”
Threw the meat back in, added some red wine only for it to evaporate very quickly, turmeric powder and some good mutton stock. I had to run back to Sam’s after the meat hunt to get some items again. He apologized for the turmeric spill and gave me a tin of tomatoes on the house, which went in next to cook for a long time. Oh! before I forget, seasoned with some salt, little bit less than what I think because,
“You will feel the temptation to salt it fully but wait till the stew’s reduced to its thickness, otherwise it will be too salty.” said the wise butcher.
And he was right, it did look a bit watery, but he said it will reduce over time, which would be saved by my trust-worthy pressure cooker which I only used thrice. Slapped the lid tight, and let it cook an hour and half.
Shawn said, “The neck bone won’t have much meat on it. And the whole point of this stew is not the meat but it is about the sauce and how we utilize the neck part of the lamb which has amazing flavour, and the marrow would add a different level of depth into the stew. So, like with many people who come to my shop, this stew also is not what it seems from the outside.”
*beep beep*
Stew’s done. Open the lid carefully to avoid the explosion like the second time I used it. Garnish with parsley, and some butter on top.
“It might seem weird. But trust me, butter goes really well on top. Also, it pairs beautifully with the pilaf rice which you were planning to make. So, don’t let me ruin your dinner plans completely with my butcher’s enlightenment.”
I sat down to eat with the pressure cooker half open on a heat resistant mat on the table. A bowl of rice and generous helping of the stew. I still remember it as the coldest night in that town. But, it was also the first proper meal I had after arriving there. It was something new, different, and relieving. As I looked across the empty rooms, strewn with boxes, covers on furniture, I knew I had lot of work to do, but it’s okay. Judging by the size of the pressure cooker, I had enough food to cover my two square meals the next day.
After which…..well, I have to go back to the butcher. I have to thank him for the stew and I still need to buy those lamb chops.
1 thought on “Fork & Fiction: Charlie’s Chops”
What a fantastic way to share a recipe!!