Lamb Recipes

Leg of Lamb with Parsnips, Barley & Cavolo Nero

Whole Lamb Leg Recipe: A Classic Roast with a Twist: A whole leg of lamb is one of the most iconic roasting joints, worthy of any celebratory meal. Cooked on the bone with its generous layer of fat, it delivers incredibly juicy, flavourful meat that’s hard to beat.

But perhaps it’s time to shake things up a little? Instead of the usual roast potatoes, why not try something different – something equally satisfying but with a fresh perspective? This recipe pairs roasted parsnips with barley, a wonderfully versatile grain that truly shines when simmered in rich lamb stock. The deep, savoury notes of the lamb enhance the barley’s texture, creating a comforting and wholesome accompaniment.

One crucial element here is balance – a generous splash of high-quality vinegar at the end lifts the dish, cutting through the richness and bringing everything together beautifully. If you’re looking for a new take on a traditional roast, this might just be it.

Serves: 6 (with some lamb for leftovers)

Cook time: 4 hours

Ingredients

For the Lamb Stock

For the Barley

Method

Start with the stock (You may well want to make this a day in advance as it will take a few hours to cook and so relieve you of an extra task on the morning of the day in question)

  1. Preheat your oven to 180°C.
  2. Lay the lamb bones on a roasting tray and place in the oven for 25 minutes.
  3. Remove the tray from the oven and allow to cool slightly before tipping them and their fat into a sensibly sized pot.
  4. Cover with water and bring up to a boil. Turn down to a simmer and leave for 10 minutes.
  5. After 10 minutes, use a ladle to skim off any scum that has formed on the surface.
  6. Add the carrot, onion, garlic and bay leaves.
  7. Allow to simmer very slowly for 3-4 hours, with a lid slightly ajar so not too much liquid evaporates.
  8. Remove from the heat and allow to sit and cool for 30 minutes.
  9. Pass through a sieve and discard the bones and vegetables.

For the lamb:

  1. Remove the lamb leg from the fridge and its packaging and allow to reach room temperature. I would suggest at least 4 hours before cooking.
  2. Preheat your oven to 170°C.
  3. Season the lamb leg well with salt.
  4. In a large roasting tray, lay the parsnips, shallots and a few sprigs of rosemary. Season them with salt, give them a drizzle with olive oil, and give them a little shake.
  5. Place the lamb leg on top and also give this a good drizzle of olive oil.
  6. Place the tray in the oven and set a timer for 45 minutes.
  7. Take the tray out of the oven and turn the parsnips and shallots over, exposing a different side of them to the heat. Also, take this opportunity to baste the lamb leg in some of its own fat and juices.
  8. Return the tray to the oven for another 45 minutes.
  9. Remove the tray and baste a final time before leaving somewhere warm to rest for at least 1 hour.

To make the barley:

  1. Add the butter to a large, heavy-bottomed pan and set it over a medium heat.
  2. Take the stalks of the cavolo nero and finely chop them. Add these, plus the onions and garlic to the pan and season with a pinch of sea salt.
  3. Allow this to cook, stirring regularly, with a lid on, for about 15 minutes. Until it is soft and sweet but not taking on any colour.
  4. Add the barley and stir through the base. Then add the white wine bring to the boil for a moment and then add enough stock to cover the barley by about 2 cm. Season again with a pinch of salt and allow to come to a simmer.
  5. Simmer for about 20-25 minutes, with a slightly ajar lid or a cartouche. If the barley looks too dry at any point, add a splash more stock.
  6. Take the washed cavolo nero leaves and run a knife through them. Add the leaves to the barley and cover with a lid. Cook for 5 minutes, stirring occasionally — the cavolo nero should wilt into the barley.
  7. Grate a little parmesan into the barley to help thicken it slightly and of course, add a little extra depth of flavour.
  8. Check for seasoning and adjust as necessary. As previously stated, adding a good quality white wine vinegar is crucial for me and brings the whole thing to life!
  9. Re-heat the parsnips and shallots and carve the lamb. You are ready to eat.

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Instagram

  • What salt should you use when cooking steaks and chops? Does it matter?

Well, we have, in the past, taken some heat in the comments from people saying that we are using the wrong salt on our steaks. “You should be using fine salt!”, “flaky salt on steaks!! NO WAY!”, “It just falls off!”, to give you a few examples. 

So, to put the debate to bed we undertook an extremely controlled, scientific experiment to determine which salt is the best salt to use on your steaks. In a field, with a piece of goose skirt, a barbecue and two varieties of sea salt (that’s one important detail, to use sea salt, not table salt) and a desire to eat well seasoned steak. Poor us!

Watch the video to find our conclusions, which will also feature in an academic journal soon – a seminal piece of scientific research. 

#sodiyum #flakysalt4life
  • A recent visit to see Ed Stavely’s pigs on the Swinton Estate, where a landscape not traditionally associated with pig keeping is slowly being reshaped through careful management and a willingness to do things a little differently.

The pigs are largely native breeds, often crossed with Duroc to help them fare better through the long Yorkshire winters and the exposed conditions up on the estate. Hardy, slow-growing animals that seem to suit both the land and the philosophy behind the system.

They are part of a wider effort to restore ground that had, in places, drifted too far from balance. Their rooting clears rougher areas, disturbs the soil naturally and creates opportunities for new herbal lays, healthier pasture and eventually species-rich hay meadows to return.

There are certainly easier places to rear pigs, but it is difficult not to admire the determination to make this sort of farming work in a landscape like this, where the focus stretches beyond production alone and towards the long-term health of the land itself.
  • Take a little inspiration from our very own grill master @grylos when it comes to cooking your big, bone in steaks. This method takes time, skill and plenty of patience but the result is a deep, dark char, beautiful blushing pink flesh and melting buttery fat. We can safely say, after this day we spent in the field, that it is well worth the effort. Close to steak perfection. 

Plus, he knocked up a charred spring vegetable green sauce, which was an ideal foil for that most delicious of steaks – clever boy. 

The idea is to spend time building a char and crust with many short visits to the hottest part of the grill, interspersed with time away from the grill, somewhere warm, slowly coming up to temperature. Placing it directly on the coals at the end is a bit of a gimmick, however, it did yield excellent results, so maybe give it a go (only if you have good quality charcoal though!)!

Steak perfection!!
  • To our friends down south, you might have noticed Yorkshire is still a good few weeks behind the march towards summer. The trees are only just coming into leaf in the Dales, especially up in Upper Wharfedale, and that gives us a little more time with the wild garlic.

Here is @grylos with what feels like one of his best ideas to date.

A proper use of those essential carcass balance cuts. Lamb hearts, though this would work just as well with tongues, sweetbreads or liver. Cooked simply, well seasoned, finished with a little lemon.

Alongside it, wild garlic taken from the darker, shaded parts of the woodland where it is still fresh. Even if it has started to turn, it holds up. Treated like spinach, wilted down, then cooked with oil, salt and cream, left to reduce until it becomes rich and full of flavour.

A brilliant little starter for our chefs blackboards, and something that will more than hold its own at home.

A dish for the season, if ever there was one.
  • We are reaching the end of our wild garlic sausages, as the season begins to slip away and only the deeper, shaded pockets of woodland still offer the tender leaves we rely on.

It is from these cooler, quieter areas that we are still able to gather what we need, though even here the plants are beginning to turn, and once the flowers arrive, the flavour shifts and our time with wild garlic comes to a close for another year.

As ever, we follow the season rather than stretch it, working with what is left while it is still at its best, which means if you have been enjoying them, or have been meaning to try them, now is the time to cook them or put a few aside for later.

Before long, they will be gone, and we will wait for spring to bring them back again.
  • A while back we had the pleasure of visiting @petea25 at the @cantonarms Arms, where we spoke about their ever evolving menu, a place that is not afraid to cook things until they are gone and then move on to something new.

We saw how they treated the Swaledale pork chop, and it told you everything you needed to know. Cooked with care, handled properly, and full of flavour.

It was, simply, delicious.
  • Here’s our Trevor, stood in front of an expertly butchered sirloin section.

Porterhouse, T bone, Wing rib, New York strip, fillet, sirloin.

All cut from the same part of the animal, each one offering something slightly different.

Key question is; which one are you taking?
  • The Dales never hurry themselves into spring, and this year is no different. You can drive through them and still feel winter holding on, yet something has shifted all the same.

It begins quietly. Hawthorn shows along the hedgerows, just enough to catch the eye. The grass is lifting, the fields softening, losing that tired, flattened look they carry through the colder months.

Out on the land, the change is clearer. Lambs are scattered across the fields, finding their feet, while cattle have been turned back out and settle easily into the pasture. There is a rhythm to it again, a sense that the farms are beginning to move.

Nothing arrives all at once. It comes on steadily, almost cautiously, as the land turns back to life.
What salt should you use when cooking steaks and chops? Does it matter? Well, we have, in the past, taken some heat in the comments from people saying that we are using the wrong salt on our steaks. “You should be using fine salt!”, “flaky salt on steaks!! NO WAY!”, “It just falls off!”, to give you a few examples. So, to put the debate to bed we undertook an extremely controlled, scientific experiment to determine which salt is the best salt to use on your steaks. In a field, with a piece of goose skirt, a barbecue and two varieties of sea salt (that’s one important detail, to use sea salt, not table salt) and a desire to eat well seasoned steak. Poor us! Watch the video to find our conclusions, which will also feature in an academic journal soon – a seminal piece of scientific research. #sodiyum #flakysalt4life
1 day ago
9914
View on Instagram |
1/8
A recent visit to see Ed Stavely’s pigs on the Swinton Estate, where a landscape not traditionally associated with pig keeping is slowly being reshaped through careful management and a willingness to do things a little differently.

The pigs are largely native breeds, often crossed with Duroc to help them fare better through the long Yorkshire winters and the exposed conditions up on the estate. Hardy, slow-growing animals that seem to suit both the land and the philosophy behind the system.

They are part of a wider effort to restore ground that had, in places, drifted too far from balance. Their rooting clears rougher areas, disturbs the soil naturally and creates opportunities for new herbal lays, healthier pasture and eventually species-rich hay meadows to return.

There are certainly easier places to rear pigs, but it is difficult not to admire the determination to make this sort of farming work in a landscape like this, where the focus stretches beyond production alone and towards the long-term health of the land itself.
A recent visit to see Ed Stavely’s pigs on the Swinton Estate, where a landscape not traditionally associated with pig keeping is slowly being reshaped through careful management and a willingness to do things a little differently.

The pigs are largely native breeds, often crossed with Duroc to help them fare better through the long Yorkshire winters and the exposed conditions up on the estate. Hardy, slow-growing animals that seem to suit both the land and the philosophy behind the system.

They are part of a wider effort to restore ground that had, in places, drifted too far from balance. Their rooting clears rougher areas, disturbs the soil naturally and creates opportunities for new herbal lays, healthier pasture and eventually species-rich hay meadows to return.

There are certainly easier places to rear pigs, but it is difficult not to admire the determination to make this sort of farming work in a landscape like this, where the focus stretches beyond production alone and towards the long-term health of the land itself.
A recent visit to see Ed Stavely’s pigs on the Swinton Estate, where a landscape not traditionally associated with pig keeping is slowly being reshaped through careful management and a willingness to do things a little differently.

The pigs are largely native breeds, often crossed with Duroc to help them fare better through the long Yorkshire winters and the exposed conditions up on the estate. Hardy, slow-growing animals that seem to suit both the land and the philosophy behind the system.

They are part of a wider effort to restore ground that had, in places, drifted too far from balance. Their rooting clears rougher areas, disturbs the soil naturally and creates opportunities for new herbal lays, healthier pasture and eventually species-rich hay meadows to return.

There are certainly easier places to rear pigs, but it is difficult not to admire the determination to make this sort of farming work in a landscape like this, where the focus stretches beyond production alone and towards the long-term health of the land itself.
A recent visit to see Ed Stavely’s pigs on the Swinton Estate, where a landscape not traditionally associated with pig keeping is slowly being reshaped through careful management and a willingness to do things a little differently.

The pigs are largely native breeds, often crossed with Duroc to help them fare better through the long Yorkshire winters and the exposed conditions up on the estate. Hardy, slow-growing animals that seem to suit both the land and the philosophy behind the system.

They are part of a wider effort to restore ground that had, in places, drifted too far from balance. Their rooting clears rougher areas, disturbs the soil naturally and creates opportunities for new herbal lays, healthier pasture and eventually species-rich hay meadows to return.

There are certainly easier places to rear pigs, but it is difficult not to admire the determination to make this sort of farming work in a landscape like this, where the focus stretches beyond production alone and towards the long-term health of the land itself.
A recent visit to see Ed Stavely’s pigs on the Swinton Estate, where a landscape not traditionally associated with pig keeping is slowly being reshaped through careful management and a willingness to do things a little differently. The pigs are largely native breeds, often crossed with Duroc to help them fare better through the long Yorkshire winters and the exposed conditions up on the estate. Hardy, slow-growing animals that seem to suit both the land and the philosophy behind the system. They are part of a wider effort to restore ground that had, in places, drifted too far from balance. Their rooting clears rougher areas, disturbs the soil naturally and creates opportunities for new herbal lays, healthier pasture and eventually species-rich hay meadows to return. There are certainly easier places to rear pigs, but it is difficult not to admire the determination to make this sort of farming work in a landscape like this, where the focus stretches beyond production alone and towards the long-term health of the land itself.
6 days ago
401
View on Instagram |
2/8
Take a little inspiration from our very own grill master @grylos when it comes to cooking your big, bone in steaks. This method takes time, skill and plenty of patience but the result is a deep, dark char, beautiful blushing pink flesh and melting buttery fat. We can safely say, after this day we spent in the field, that it is well worth the effort. Close to steak perfection. Plus, he knocked up a charred spring vegetable green sauce, which was an ideal foil for that most delicious of steaks – clever boy. The idea is to spend time building a char and crust with many short visits to the hottest part of the grill, interspersed with time away from the grill, somewhere warm, slowly coming up to temperature. Placing it directly on the coals at the end is a bit of a gimmick, however, it did yield excellent results, so maybe give it a go (only if you have good quality charcoal though!)! Steak perfection!!
3 weeks ago
1,22232
View on Instagram |
3/8
To our friends down south, you might have noticed Yorkshire is still a good few weeks behind the march towards summer. The trees are only just coming into leaf in the Dales, especially up in Upper Wharfedale, and that gives us a little more time with the wild garlic. Here is @grylos with what feels like one of his best ideas to date. A proper use of those essential carcass balance cuts. Lamb hearts, though this would work just as well with tongues, sweetbreads or liver. Cooked simply, well seasoned, finished with a little lemon. Alongside it, wild garlic taken from the darker, shaded parts of the woodland where it is still fresh. Even if it has started to turn, it holds up. Treated like spinach, wilted down, then cooked with oil, salt and cream, left to reduce until it becomes rich and full of flavour. A brilliant little starter for our chefs blackboards, and something that will more than hold its own at home. A dish for the season, if ever there was one.
3 weeks ago
1829
View on Instagram |
4/8
We are reaching the end of our wild garlic sausages, as the season begins to slip away and only the deeper, shaded pockets of woodland still offer the tender leaves we rely on.

It is from these cooler, quieter areas that we are still able to gather what we need, though even here the plants are beginning to turn, and once the flowers arrive, the flavour shifts and our time with wild garlic comes to a close for another year.

As ever, we follow the season rather than stretch it, working with what is left while it is still at its best, which means if you have been enjoying them, or have been meaning to try them, now is the time to cook them or put a few aside for later.

Before long, they will be gone, and we will wait for spring to bring them back again.
We are reaching the end of our wild garlic sausages, as the season begins to slip away and only the deeper, shaded pockets of woodland still offer the tender leaves we rely on.

It is from these cooler, quieter areas that we are still able to gather what we need, though even here the plants are beginning to turn, and once the flowers arrive, the flavour shifts and our time with wild garlic comes to a close for another year.

As ever, we follow the season rather than stretch it, working with what is left while it is still at its best, which means if you have been enjoying them, or have been meaning to try them, now is the time to cook them or put a few aside for later.

Before long, they will be gone, and we will wait for spring to bring them back again.
We are reaching the end of our wild garlic sausages, as the season begins to slip away and only the deeper, shaded pockets of woodland still offer the tender leaves we rely on.

It is from these cooler, quieter areas that we are still able to gather what we need, though even here the plants are beginning to turn, and once the flowers arrive, the flavour shifts and our time with wild garlic comes to a close for another year.

As ever, we follow the season rather than stretch it, working with what is left while it is still at its best, which means if you have been enjoying them, or have been meaning to try them, now is the time to cook them or put a few aside for later.

Before long, they will be gone, and we will wait for spring to bring them back again.
We are reaching the end of our wild garlic sausages, as the season begins to slip away and only the deeper, shaded pockets of woodland still offer the tender leaves we rely on. It is from these cooler, quieter areas that we are still able to gather what we need, though even here the plants are beginning to turn, and once the flowers arrive, the flavour shifts and our time with wild garlic comes to a close for another year. As ever, we follow the season rather than stretch it, working with what is left while it is still at its best, which means if you have been enjoying them, or have been meaning to try them, now is the time to cook them or put a few aside for later. Before long, they will be gone, and we will wait for spring to bring them back again.
4 weeks ago
751
View on Instagram |
5/8
A while back we had the pleasure of visiting @petea25 at the @cantonarms Arms, where we spoke about their ever evolving menu, a place that is not afraid to cook things until they are gone and then move on to something new. We saw how they treated the Swaledale pork chop, and it told you everything you needed to know. Cooked with care, handled properly, and full of flavour. It was, simply, delicious.
4 weeks ago
37810
View on Instagram |
6/8
Here’s our Trevor, stood in front of an expertly butchered sirloin section.

Porterhouse, T bone, Wing rib, New York strip, fillet, sirloin.

All cut from the same part of the animal, each one offering something slightly different.

Key question is; which one are you taking?
Here’s our Trevor, stood in front of an expertly butchered sirloin section. Porterhouse, T bone, Wing rib, New York strip, fillet, sirloin. All cut from the same part of the animal, each one offering something slightly different. Key question is; which one are you taking?
1 month ago
601
View on Instagram |
7/8
The Dales never hurry themselves into spring, and this year is no different. You can drive through them and still feel winter holding on, yet something has shifted all the same.

It begins quietly. Hawthorn shows along the hedgerows, just enough to catch the eye. The grass is lifting, the fields softening, losing that tired, flattened look they carry through the colder months.

Out on the land, the change is clearer. Lambs are scattered across the fields, finding their feet, while cattle have been turned back out and settle easily into the pasture. There is a rhythm to it again, a sense that the farms are beginning to move.

Nothing arrives all at once. It comes on steadily, almost cautiously, as the land turns back to life.
The Dales never hurry themselves into spring, and this year is no different. You can drive through them and still feel winter holding on, yet something has shifted all the same.

It begins quietly. Hawthorn shows along the hedgerows, just enough to catch the eye. The grass is lifting, the fields softening, losing that tired, flattened look they carry through the colder months.

Out on the land, the change is clearer. Lambs are scattered across the fields, finding their feet, while cattle have been turned back out and settle easily into the pasture. There is a rhythm to it again, a sense that the farms are beginning to move.

Nothing arrives all at once. It comes on steadily, almost cautiously, as the land turns back to life.
The Dales never hurry themselves into spring, and this year is no different. You can drive through them and still feel winter holding on, yet something has shifted all the same.

It begins quietly. Hawthorn shows along the hedgerows, just enough to catch the eye. The grass is lifting, the fields softening, losing that tired, flattened look they carry through the colder months.

Out on the land, the change is clearer. Lambs are scattered across the fields, finding their feet, while cattle have been turned back out and settle easily into the pasture. There is a rhythm to it again, a sense that the farms are beginning to move.

Nothing arrives all at once. It comes on steadily, almost cautiously, as the land turns back to life.
The Dales never hurry themselves into spring, and this year is no different. You can drive through them and still feel winter holding on, yet something has shifted all the same.

It begins quietly. Hawthorn shows along the hedgerows, just enough to catch the eye. The grass is lifting, the fields softening, losing that tired, flattened look they carry through the colder months.

Out on the land, the change is clearer. Lambs are scattered across the fields, finding their feet, while cattle have been turned back out and settle easily into the pasture. There is a rhythm to it again, a sense that the farms are beginning to move.

Nothing arrives all at once. It comes on steadily, almost cautiously, as the land turns back to life.
The Dales never hurry themselves into spring, and this year is no different. You can drive through them and still feel winter holding on, yet something has shifted all the same.

It begins quietly. Hawthorn shows along the hedgerows, just enough to catch the eye. The grass is lifting, the fields softening, losing that tired, flattened look they carry through the colder months.

Out on the land, the change is clearer. Lambs are scattered across the fields, finding their feet, while cattle have been turned back out and settle easily into the pasture. There is a rhythm to it again, a sense that the farms are beginning to move.

Nothing arrives all at once. It comes on steadily, almost cautiously, as the land turns back to life.
The Dales never hurry themselves into spring, and this year is no different. You can drive through them and still feel winter holding on, yet something has shifted all the same. It begins quietly. Hawthorn shows along the hedgerows, just enough to catch the eye. The grass is lifting, the fields softening, losing that tired, flattened look they carry through the colder months. Out on the land, the change is clearer. Lambs are scattered across the fields, finding their feet, while cattle have been turned back out and settle easily into the pasture. There is a rhythm to it again, a sense that the farms are beginning to move. Nothing arrives all at once. It comes on steadily, almost cautiously, as the land turns back to life.
1 month ago
491
View on Instagram |
8/8