Lamb Recipes

Butterflied Leg of Lamb with Rice Pilaf & Minted Garlic Yoghurt

Butterflied leg of lamb cooked pink, sitting on top of rice pilaf and served with a minted yoghurt dip.

A whole lamb leg butterflied out, then spiced and seasoned with cumin, fennel, chilli, and coriander. Roasted to a perfect pink and then carved and sitting on top of fragrant pilaf rice. Deboned and then opened out, this is a fabulous way to treat a leg of lamb. I know that often we are encouraged to cook things on the bone and there are multiple benefits to doing so. But in this case, it is nice to be able to season and marinade the meat thoroughly throughout. Plus, then you can cook the leg with a slightly fiercer heat, which is nice in this context for the meat to take on a little extra colour and flavour. I roasted this one in the oven, but it would also be perfect for a BBQ. Paired with this rice dish and seasoned yoghurt, you’ve got yourself a family feast!

Serves: 6-8

Prep time: 6 hours

Cook time: 1 hour 30 minutes

Ingredients

Rice Pilaf

Yoghurt

Method

Start by Marinating the Lamb

  1. Toast the cumin, coriander, and fennel seeds in a hot pan for a couple of minutes and then tip into a pestle and mortar or spice grinder. Grind until fine and then mix through the chilli flakes, ground cinnamon, and a handful of sea salt.
  2. Rub the marinade all over the lamb leg and leave to marinade for at least 6-hours. Leave out of the fridge so that it is room temperature when you come to cook it.

Cook the Lamb

  1. Preheat your oven to 240°C.
  2. Rub the butterflied leg with a little olive oil and then lay it on a roasting tray with the fat side facing up.
  3. Place in the oven and cook for 15-minutes, then turn the heat down to 175°C and cook for a further 20-30 minutes.
  4. Remove from the oven and leave to rest for at least 30-minutes.

Cook the Rice

  1. In a pan, melt the butter over a medium heat. Then add the onions, garlic, chilli, and cumin seeds. Allow to cook slowly, with a lid on, stirring occasionally, for about 15-minutes.
  2. Add the almonds and Aleppo pepper and cook for a further 10-minutes.
  3. Put the stock in a pan and bring up to a simmer.
  4. Then add the rice and stir around so the grains are coated in the butter, then add enough stock to cover the rice by about an inch. Stir once, then cover with a cartouche and then a lid.
  5. Cook on a high heat for 4-minutes, then turn it down to the lowest possible heat and cook for a further 6-minutes.
  6. Turn the heat off and leave to steam for a further 10-minutes. Do not be tempted to open the lid!
  7. When you are nearly ready to eat, then remove the lid and stir through the chopped coriander as well as the resting juices from the lamb.
  8. Check the seasoning and adjust as necessary.

Prepare the yoghurt

  1. Place the yoghurt in a mixing bowl and season with sea salt, and then add the grated garlic, mint, lemon juice, and olive oil. Mix together well and leave to sit for 10-minutes.
  2. Taste for seasoning and adjust as necessary.

Order meat online

Instagram

  • 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.
  • The fallacy of Spring lamb!

When we eat lamb in early April, we aren’t eating the lovely little fluffy things people see hopping about in the fields. In fact, you’re actually eating – or at least you are if you are buying from us – old season lamb. The animals that were born the previous springtime. They are age wise, on the verge of morphing into hogget and, in our opinion, it is lamb at its very best. More flavourful as the meat has developed with age, but still with the tenderness one expects with lamb. 
One thing that is not in doubt is that it pairs perfectly with a lot of the seasonal ingredients of this time of year, the peas, broad beans and courgettes from the continent, plus Jersey royals, asparagus and wild garlic from these shores. 
We have plenty of these wonderful carcasses ageing in our fridges, so embrace the idea of eating last years spring lamb!
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.
2 days ago
361
View on Instagram |
1/8
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!!
2 weeks ago
1,18331
View on Instagram |
2/8
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 |
3/8
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.
3 weeks ago
751
View on Instagram |
4/8
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 |
5/8
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?
4 weeks ago
601
View on Instagram |
6/8
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 |
7/8
The fallacy of Spring lamb! When we eat lamb in early April, we aren’t eating the lovely little fluffy things people see hopping about in the fields. In fact, you’re actually eating – or at least you are if you are buying from us – old season lamb. The animals that were born the previous springtime. They are age wise, on the verge of morphing into hogget and, in our opinion, it is lamb at its very best. More flavourful as the meat has developed with age, but still with the tenderness one expects with lamb. One thing that is not in doubt is that it pairs perfectly with a lot of the seasonal ingredients of this time of year, the peas, broad beans and courgettes from the continent, plus Jersey royals, asparagus and wild garlic from these shores. We have plenty of these wonderful carcasses ageing in our fridges, so embrace the idea of eating last years spring lamb!
1 month ago
662
View on Instagram |
8/8