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Created by Chef Thomas
A Welsh lamb broth of quiet, sustaining goodness, built from bones and root vegetables and the particular kindness of a pot left to simmer for hours, better tomorrow than today.
January rain. The kind that doesn't stop, that turns the garden path to mud and makes the window glass run with water all afternoon. That's a cawl evening. You don't plan it weeks ahead. You feel it in the weather.
Every Welsh family has a version of this. Some start with beef, some with bacon. Mine uses lamb neck, bone in, browned properly in a heavy pot until the kitchen fills with the smell of rendered fat and caramelised meat. The roots go in next: carrots, swede, parsnips, whatever the season and the market offer. Then the potatoes, then the leeks, because leeks need the least time and deserve the most respect. It simmers. You wait. The house warms.
I wrote it down in the notebook years ago, after making it for the first time from a scribbled recipe given to me by a woman at a farmers' market near Brecon. She said, "There's no wrong way, love, only your way." A recipe is a conversation, not a contract. She was right. I've been adjusting it ever since, and I expect I always will.
Make it a day ahead if you can. Cawl improves overnight in the way that certain things do: the broth thickens, the lamb softens further, the vegetables hold their shape but absorb the stock until they taste of the whole pot rather than themselves. Reheated slowly the next day, with thick bread and a crumble of Caerphilly on the side, it's one of the more useful things you can put in front of someone on a cold evening. There are few better feelings.
Quantity
800g, bone in
cut into large pieces
Quantity
2 tablespoons
Quantity
2
peeled and roughly chopped
Quantity
3
peeled and cut into thick rounds
Quantity
1 small
peeled and cut into chunks
Quantity
2
peeled and cut into chunks
Quantity
3 medium
peeled and cut into large pieces
Quantity
3 large
washed and sliced into thick rings
Quantity
1.5 litres
Quantity
a few sprigs
Quantity
2
Quantity
a good handful
roughly chopped
Quantity
to taste
Quantity
to taste
Quantity
to serve
| Ingredient | Quantity |
|---|---|
| lamb neck or shouldercut into large pieces | 800g, bone in |
| dripping or vegetable oil | 2 tablespoons |
| onionspeeled and roughly chopped | 2 |
| carrotspeeled and cut into thick rounds | 3 |
| swedepeeled and cut into chunks | 1 small |
| parsnipspeeled and cut into chunks | 2 |
| potatoespeeled and cut into large pieces | 3 medium |
| leekswashed and sliced into thick rings | 3 large |
| lamb or chicken stock, or water | 1.5 litres |
| fresh thyme | a few sprigs |
| bay leaves | 2 |
| fresh flat-leaf parsleyroughly chopped | a good handful |
| fine sea salt | to taste |
| black pepper | to taste |
| Caerphilly or Lancashire cheese (optional) | to serve |
Pat the lamb dry. Get a large, heavy pot properly hot with the dripping and brown the meat in batches. Don't crowd the pan. You want a deep, golden-brown crust on each piece, the kind that smells of rendered fat and roasted Sunday dinners. This takes longer than you expect, maybe four or five minutes a side. Set the browned pieces aside on a plate. The fond left on the bottom of the pot is the foundation of everything that follows.
Turn the heat down. Add the onions to the pot with a pinch of salt and let them soften in the lamb fat for five minutes or so, scraping up the sticky bits from the bottom as you stir. Those bits matter. They carry more flavour than you'd think.
Return the lamb to the pot. Add the carrots, swede, and parsnips. Pour in the stock or water. It should cover everything comfortably, so add a little more if it doesn't. Tuck in the thyme sprigs and bay leaves. Bring it to the gentlest simmer you can manage, not a boil, barely a murmur on the surface, then put the lid on slightly ajar. Let it go for an hour and a half. The kitchen will start to smell like a proper winter evening.
After an hour and a half, add the potatoes. Give it another twenty minutes, then add the leeks. The leeks go in last because they need the least time and they turn grey and miserable if overcooked. Another fifteen to twenty minutes, until the potatoes are soft through and the leeks have wilted but still hold their shape.
Skim any fat from the surface. There will be some; lamb is generous that way. Pull out the thyme stalks and bay leaves if you can find them. Fish out the lamb, strip the meat from the bones, and return the meat to the pot in large, rough pieces. Season with salt and pepper. Taste it. Then taste it again. Stir in most of the parsley, keeping a little back for the bowls.
Ladle into deep, warmed bowls. Scatter the remaining parsley over the top. If you have Caerphilly, crumble a little alongside. Serve with thick bread and good butter. But if you can bear it, let the whole pot cool and refrigerate it overnight. Cawl that has sat for a day is a different, better thing. The flavours settle and deepen, the broth thickens as it cools, and when you reheat it slowly the next evening, the kitchen will smell like coming home.
1 serving (about 630g)
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