Mutton Recipes

Iranian Mutton Stew with Rhubarb (Khoresh Rivas)

The first time I made this, an 8-year-old spat it out. The second time I made this, my 4-year-old refused it. The third time I made this, I used Yorkshire’s Finest Mutton and served it up to a crowd of strangers at a #CookforIran supper club, and it was a massive hit. Home run. Sweet. Sour. Savoury. Herbaceous. Muttony. Utterly delicious. This mutton stew recipe, Khoresh Rivas, is a celebration of flavour, and a perfect dish to showcase the extraordinary nature of British produce – namely rhubarb and Swaledale Butchers’ incomparable mutton.

And, listen, I’m not saying for certain that your 8-year-old will spit it out, and I’m not saying that your 4-year-old will definitely refuse it. But I do guarantee that it’ll be a massive hit with everyone over the age of … indiscriminate pickiness. Plus, vegetarians take note: My mother loves the flavours of khoresh rivas so much that she, a lifelong vegetarian, eats and craves it, picking the large chunks of meat out, enjoying everything else with gusto. Serve this Iranian stew with rice and a vinaigrette-dressed green salad. Smile.

Serves: 4

Cook time: 2 hours 30 minutes

Ingredients

Method

  1. In a large dutch oven or stew pot, heat 2 tablespoons of oil over medium heat, and then add the sliced onions. Cook, stirring occasionally, until the onions are lovely and soft and golden.
  2. Then add the mutton and sauté for a few minutes to brown the meat. Add the salt, pepper and turmeric, stir to combine, and sauté for another minute.
  3. To the pot, add 600ml tap water. Turn the heat up and bring the water to a boil. Once the water boils, immediately turn the heat down to low so that the water barely simmers. Cover and cook, stirring occasionally, for 1 hour.
  4. While your meat is cooking, pull out your largest frying pan and heat 2 tablespoons of oil over a medium heat. Add the chopped parsley and cook, stirring frequently so that the herbs do not burn, and adding in a little extra oil if your pan seems too dry. After about 5 minutes, add both the fresh and dry mint and cook, again stirring frequently, for 2 more minutes or until you can smell springtime rising from your pan. Once aromatic, add the herb mix to the pot with the mutton. Hold on to the frying pan; you’re going to need it again in a bit.
  5. To prepare your saffron, put the threads in the bowl of a mortar and pestle, along with an equivalent amount of sugar. You only need ½ tsp of saffron for this recipe, but you can pre-bloom and dissolve more than that if you like, and keep the liquid mixture in a lidded glass container in the refrigerator for up to one week. Grind the saffron and sugar into a fine powder and add the powder to the glass jar. Pour in the rose water (scaling up if you are scaling up your saffron), and stir to dissolve. If you don’t have rose water, don’t fret, you can do this with an equivalent amount of freshly boiled water, but the rose water does add a certain something special to the flavour.
  6. Once your saffron is ready, add it to the pot, along with the tomato purée, dried limes, lime zest and yellow split peas. Stir everything to combine, cover and continue cooking for another 30 minutes.
  7. As the stew cooks, watch the water levels. You want enough liquid for it to be servable over rice on a plate—you are not making a soup that goes in a bowl. Add more liquid if you think it needs it, or remove the lid and let some liquid evaporate if you think things are looking too juicy.
  8. Add the final tablespoon of oil to the frying pan and heat over medium. Add the rhubarb, preferably in one layer, and cook for 2 to 4 minutes. You’re just looking to soften the rhubarb a bit, but not for it to lose its shape and dissolve into mush.
  9. Check on your stew at this point. Taste and add salt as needed. Make sure your liquid level is where you want it. And, when you’re ready, add the softened rhubarb to the stew. Stir gently to distribute the rhubarb throughout. Cook, partially covered, for 10 more minutes. Taste it again. If it’s too sour for you, add a smidge of sugar. If it needs more acid, give it a squeeze of lemon or lime. If it’s perfect for you, scoop out and discard the dried limes, and get ready to eat and enjoy.
  10. Serve this beauty with rice and a green salad. And hope there are leftovers…..because it tastes even better on day two. Enjoy!

Order meat online

Instagram

  • Always good to welcome chefs to the butchery. Earlier this week the teams from @llewelynslondon came up to see us. We showed them around the cutting room, talked through how we work, then headed up the hill for a bit of cooking and conversation.

For many chefs it is the first chance to see the whole journey. From the farms and fields where the animals are raised, through our ageing rooms, and finally into the kitchens that cook it.

If you are a chef and fancy a visit this year, you would be very welcome. Send us a message and we will put the kettle on.
  • March sits between seasons. Winter has not quite loosened its grip, and there is still time, and need, for fortifying pleasures. A bowl of chicken broth is one of them.

It begins with a proper chicken stock. Just bones and time in the pot, slowly giving up their flavour until the liquid runs clear and deeply savoury. If you watched our earlier film on how to break down a whole chicken, this is where the rest of it finds its purpose.

From there the broth is built. Pearl barley for substance. Cavolo nero and turnips for the season. Simple things, allowed to do their work in good stock.

Just before serving, a small splash of oloroso lifts the whole bowl.
  • British Pie Week, apparently.

We do not usually pay much attention to themed food weeks. We prefer to make and sell things when they feel right.

This year is different, thanks to our growing friendship with Yorkshire chef and pie obsessive Josh Whitehead, and his excellent pie project, Finer Pleasures.

Josh started @finer_pleasures in 2023 to make pies the way they should be made. Proper fillings, local meat and traditional methods.

So we thought we would join in.

The pie is a classic. Chicken, ham, leek and mushroom.

Brined chicken, smoked ham hock and a rich velouté finished with herbs, mustard and chestnut mushrooms or leeks.

A proper pie.

Available this week while they last.
  • It’s easy to become disconnected with the restaurants and kitchens where our meat ends up being prepped, cooked and served. Whilst Instagram can give us a certain understanding of how the food looks; we all know that there is no substitute for experiencing it first-hand. And that is what we had the pleasure of doing this week at the Canton Arms. One of London’s great pubs and one of our oldest, most significant customers. We have been suppling them with exceptional meat since nearly the very beginning of the Swaledale journey. 

Last night was a moment to celebrate that relationship in all its glory; our meat and their cooking and outstanding hospitality coming together for what was a grand evening. We ate, we drank, we chatted in a room that was alive. Long may dining rooms like this thrive and continue to provide people with a space to consume food, booze and hospitality in such a joyous way. 

It was a special night for us, and we hope for everyone who was there. 

Thanks to @chargieb , @cantontrish, @petea25 and the @cantonarms team for being total legends xx

Ps sorry for not getting any decent pics of the food! Was having too much fun.
  • We have all seen the videos. A chicken arrives. Five neat strokes of a knife. It falls apart as if by magic. That comes from thirty years at the block. Most of us do not have that.

So here is a slightly more Radio 4 approach.

A calm, sensible way to take a good chicken and break it down at home. Nothing flashy. Just understanding the joints, working with the bone, and giving each part the respect it deserves. When you do that, you open up a week (almost) of meals. Breasts cooked one way. Legs another. A carcass that becomes stock rather than waste. More on that to follow.

The only things you truly need are a great chicken and a proper knife. Ours is a beautiful honsuki knife kindly supplied by @kitchenprovisions and it does the job expertly. Sharp. Balanced. Delightful.

Watch along as @grylos talks it through.
  • Mutton has earned itself an unfair reputation. For centuries it was simply the meat we ate. Lamb is, in many ways, the modern preference, made possible by refrigeration and global trade. Before that shift, it would have made little sense to slaughter an animal before it had lived fully and bred. Sheep were kept for wool and continuity, and when their working life was complete, they became mutton.

It was part of a cycle. Practical and sustaining. What changed was not the meat, but our habits.

Yet not all mutton is equal. Age alone does not create depth. Mutton reflects the life it has lived. When sheep are kept longer and allowed to graze widely on varied forage, moorland grasses and herbal leys, time and terrain build complexity into the muscle and fat.

That is the mutton we favour and source. Darker, firmer and deeper in flavour, shaped by prolonged grazing on moorland such as this, just outside Skipton.

There was once a rhythm between wool on our backs and mutton on our tables. Perhaps that rhythm still makes sense.
  • Kindred spirits. Hot pans. Spiced mutton.
Swaledale x Canton Arms supper.
Wednesday 25 February.
To book email Thecantonarms@gmail.com

@cantonarms
  • Winter and its cold hands have us fully in a tight embrace right now. And so we find ourselves cooking more often than not, to warm our souls.

A ham at the weekend is one such thing that does the job. It can be used for all kinds of dishes and provide your weekdays with a plethora of fine sandwiches. But this fine cut also produces something else. An excellent, warming stock that should not be thrown away.

In fact, it should be used to make something just as special. A deep, hearty split pea and ham soup. And here is @grylos showing you how to do it. Like most things, if you cook with time and consideration, the by-product is often just as good as the main event.
Always good to welcome chefs to the butchery. Earlier this week the teams from @llewelynslondon came up to see us. We showed them around the cutting room, talked through how we work, then headed up the hill for a bit of cooking and conversation.

For many chefs it is the first chance to see the whole journey. From the farms and fields where the animals are raised, through our ageing rooms, and finally into the kitchens that cook it.

If you are a chef and fancy a visit this year, you would be very welcome. Send us a message and we will put the kettle on.
Always good to welcome chefs to the butchery. Earlier this week the teams from @llewelynslondon came up to see us. We showed them around the cutting room, talked through how we work, then headed up the hill for a bit of cooking and conversation.

For many chefs it is the first chance to see the whole journey. From the farms and fields where the animals are raised, through our ageing rooms, and finally into the kitchens that cook it.

If you are a chef and fancy a visit this year, you would be very welcome. Send us a message and we will put the kettle on.
Always good to welcome chefs to the butchery. Earlier this week the teams from @llewelynslondon came up to see us. We showed them around the cutting room, talked through how we work, then headed up the hill for a bit of cooking and conversation.

For many chefs it is the first chance to see the whole journey. From the farms and fields where the animals are raised, through our ageing rooms, and finally into the kitchens that cook it.

If you are a chef and fancy a visit this year, you would be very welcome. Send us a message and we will put the kettle on.
Always good to welcome chefs to the butchery. Earlier this week the teams from @llewelynslondon came up to see us. We showed them around the cutting room, talked through how we work, then headed up the hill for a bit of cooking and conversation. For many chefs it is the first chance to see the whole journey. From the farms and fields where the animals are raised, through our ageing rooms, and finally into the kitchens that cook it. If you are a chef and fancy a visit this year, you would be very welcome. Send us a message and we will put the kettle on.
1 week ago
49
View on Instagram |
1/8
March sits between seasons. Winter has not quite loosened its grip, and there is still time, and need, for fortifying pleasures. A bowl of chicken broth is one of them. It begins with a proper chicken stock. Just bones and time in the pot, slowly giving up their flavour until the liquid runs clear and deeply savoury. If you watched our earlier film on how to break down a whole chicken, this is where the rest of it finds its purpose. From there the broth is built. Pearl barley for substance. Cavolo nero and turnips for the season. Simple things, allowed to do their work in good stock. Just before serving, a small splash of oloroso lifts the whole bowl.
1 week ago
932
View on Instagram |
2/8
British Pie Week, apparently.

We do not usually pay much attention to themed food weeks. We prefer to make and sell things when they feel right.

This year is different, thanks to our growing friendship with Yorkshire chef and pie obsessive Josh Whitehead, and his excellent pie project, Finer Pleasures.

Josh started @finer_pleasures in 2023 to make pies the way they should be made. Proper fillings, local meat and traditional methods.

So we thought we would join in.

The pie is a classic. Chicken, ham, leek and mushroom.

Brined chicken, smoked ham hock and a rich velouté finished with herbs, mustard and chestnut mushrooms or leeks.

A proper pie.

Available this week while they last.
British Pie Week, apparently.

We do not usually pay much attention to themed food weeks. We prefer to make and sell things when they feel right.

This year is different, thanks to our growing friendship with Yorkshire chef and pie obsessive Josh Whitehead, and his excellent pie project, Finer Pleasures.

Josh started @finer_pleasures in 2023 to make pies the way they should be made. Proper fillings, local meat and traditional methods.

So we thought we would join in.

The pie is a classic. Chicken, ham, leek and mushroom.

Brined chicken, smoked ham hock and a rich velouté finished with herbs, mustard and chestnut mushrooms or leeks.

A proper pie.

Available this week while they last.
British Pie Week, apparently.

We do not usually pay much attention to themed food weeks. We prefer to make and sell things when they feel right.

This year is different, thanks to our growing friendship with Yorkshire chef and pie obsessive Josh Whitehead, and his excellent pie project, Finer Pleasures.

Josh started @finer_pleasures in 2023 to make pies the way they should be made. Proper fillings, local meat and traditional methods.

So we thought we would join in.

The pie is a classic. Chicken, ham, leek and mushroom.

Brined chicken, smoked ham hock and a rich velouté finished with herbs, mustard and chestnut mushrooms or leeks.

A proper pie.

Available this week while they last.
British Pie Week, apparently. We do not usually pay much attention to themed food weeks. We prefer to make and sell things when they feel right. This year is different, thanks to our growing friendship with Yorkshire chef and pie obsessive Josh Whitehead, and his excellent pie project, Finer Pleasures. Josh started @finer_pleasures in 2023 to make pies the way they should be made. Proper fillings, local meat and traditional methods. So we thought we would join in. The pie is a classic. Chicken, ham, leek and mushroom. Brined chicken, smoked ham hock and a rich velouté finished with herbs, mustard and chestnut mushrooms or leeks. A proper pie. Available this week while they last.
2 weeks ago
58
View on Instagram |
3/8
It’s easy to become disconnected with the restaurants and kitchens where our meat ends up being prepped, cooked and served. Whilst Instagram can give us a certain understanding of how the food looks; we all know that there is no substitute for experiencing it first-hand. And that is what we had the pleasure of doing this week at the Canton Arms. One of London’s great pubs and one of our oldest, most significant customers. We have been suppling them with exceptional meat since nearly the very beginning of the Swaledale journey. 

Last night was a moment to celebrate that relationship in all its glory; our meat and their cooking and outstanding hospitality coming together for what was a grand evening. We ate, we drank, we chatted in a room that was alive. Long may dining rooms like this thrive and continue to provide people with a space to consume food, booze and hospitality in such a joyous way. 

It was a special night for us, and we hope for everyone who was there. 

Thanks to @chargieb , @cantontrish, @petea25 and the @cantonarms team for being total legends xx

Ps sorry for not getting any decent pics of the food! Was having too much fun.
It’s easy to become disconnected with the restaurants and kitchens where our meat ends up being prepped, cooked and served. Whilst Instagram can give us a certain understanding of how the food looks; we all know that there is no substitute for experiencing it first-hand. And that is what we had the pleasure of doing this week at the Canton Arms. One of London’s great pubs and one of our oldest, most significant customers. We have been suppling them with exceptional meat since nearly the very beginning of the Swaledale journey. Last night was a moment to celebrate that relationship in all its glory; our meat and their cooking and outstanding hospitality coming together for what was a grand evening. We ate, we drank, we chatted in a room that was alive. Long may dining rooms like this thrive and continue to provide people with a space to consume food, booze and hospitality in such a joyous way. It was a special night for us, and we hope for everyone who was there. Thanks to @chargieb , @cantontrish, @petea25 and the @cantonarms team for being total legends xx Ps sorry for not getting any decent pics of the food! Was having too much fun.
3 weeks ago
1514
View on Instagram |
4/8
We have all seen the videos. A chicken arrives. Five neat strokes of a knife. It falls apart as if by magic. That comes from thirty years at the block. Most of us do not have that. So here is a slightly more Radio 4 approach. A calm, sensible way to take a good chicken and break it down at home. Nothing flashy. Just understanding the joints, working with the bone, and giving each part the respect it deserves. When you do that, you open up a week (almost) of meals. Breasts cooked one way. Legs another. A carcass that becomes stock rather than waste. More on that to follow. The only things you truly need are a great chicken and a proper knife. Ours is a beautiful honsuki knife kindly supplied by @kitchenprovisions and it does the job expertly. Sharp. Balanced. Delightful. Watch along as @grylos talks it through.
4 weeks ago
652
View on Instagram |
5/8
Mutton has earned itself an unfair reputation. For centuries it was simply the meat we ate. Lamb is, in many ways, the modern preference, made possible by refrigeration and global trade. Before that shift, it would have made little sense to slaughter an animal before it had lived fully and bred. Sheep were kept for wool and continuity, and when their working life was complete, they became mutton.

It was part of a cycle. Practical and sustaining. What changed was not the meat, but our habits.

Yet not all mutton is equal. Age alone does not create depth. Mutton reflects the life it has lived. When sheep are kept longer and allowed to graze widely on varied forage, moorland grasses and herbal leys, time and terrain build complexity into the muscle and fat.

That is the mutton we favour and source. Darker, firmer and deeper in flavour, shaped by prolonged grazing on moorland such as this, just outside Skipton.

There was once a rhythm between wool on our backs and mutton on our tables. Perhaps that rhythm still makes sense.
Mutton has earned itself an unfair reputation. For centuries it was simply the meat we ate. Lamb is, in many ways, the modern preference, made possible by refrigeration and global trade. Before that shift, it would have made little sense to slaughter an animal before it had lived fully and bred. Sheep were kept for wool and continuity, and when their working life was complete, they became mutton.

It was part of a cycle. Practical and sustaining. What changed was not the meat, but our habits.

Yet not all mutton is equal. Age alone does not create depth. Mutton reflects the life it has lived. When sheep are kept longer and allowed to graze widely on varied forage, moorland grasses and herbal leys, time and terrain build complexity into the muscle and fat.

That is the mutton we favour and source. Darker, firmer and deeper in flavour, shaped by prolonged grazing on moorland such as this, just outside Skipton.

There was once a rhythm between wool on our backs and mutton on our tables. Perhaps that rhythm still makes sense.
Mutton has earned itself an unfair reputation. For centuries it was simply the meat we ate. Lamb is, in many ways, the modern preference, made possible by refrigeration and global trade. Before that shift, it would have made little sense to slaughter an animal before it had lived fully and bred. Sheep were kept for wool and continuity, and when their working life was complete, they became mutton.

It was part of a cycle. Practical and sustaining. What changed was not the meat, but our habits.

Yet not all mutton is equal. Age alone does not create depth. Mutton reflects the life it has lived. When sheep are kept longer and allowed to graze widely on varied forage, moorland grasses and herbal leys, time and terrain build complexity into the muscle and fat.

That is the mutton we favour and source. Darker, firmer and deeper in flavour, shaped by prolonged grazing on moorland such as this, just outside Skipton.

There was once a rhythm between wool on our backs and mutton on our tables. Perhaps that rhythm still makes sense.
Mutton has earned itself an unfair reputation. For centuries it was simply the meat we ate. Lamb is, in many ways, the modern preference, made possible by refrigeration and global trade. Before that shift, it would have made little sense to slaughter an animal before it had lived fully and bred. Sheep were kept for wool and continuity, and when their working life was complete, they became mutton.

It was part of a cycle. Practical and sustaining. What changed was not the meat, but our habits.

Yet not all mutton is equal. Age alone does not create depth. Mutton reflects the life it has lived. When sheep are kept longer and allowed to graze widely on varied forage, moorland grasses and herbal leys, time and terrain build complexity into the muscle and fat.

That is the mutton we favour and source. Darker, firmer and deeper in flavour, shaped by prolonged grazing on moorland such as this, just outside Skipton.

There was once a rhythm between wool on our backs and mutton on our tables. Perhaps that rhythm still makes sense.
Mutton has earned itself an unfair reputation. For centuries it was simply the meat we ate. Lamb is, in many ways, the modern preference, made possible by refrigeration and global trade. Before that shift, it would have made little sense to slaughter an animal before it had lived fully and bred. Sheep were kept for wool and continuity, and when their working life was complete, they became mutton. It was part of a cycle. Practical and sustaining. What changed was not the meat, but our habits. Yet not all mutton is equal. Age alone does not create depth. Mutton reflects the life it has lived. When sheep are kept longer and allowed to graze widely on varied forage, moorland grasses and herbal leys, time and terrain build complexity into the muscle and fat. That is the mutton we favour and source. Darker, firmer and deeper in flavour, shaped by prolonged grazing on moorland such as this, just outside Skipton. There was once a rhythm between wool on our backs and mutton on our tables. Perhaps that rhythm still makes sense.
1 month ago
511
View on Instagram |
6/8
Kindred spirits. Hot pans. Spiced mutton. Swaledale x Canton Arms supper. Wednesday 25 February. To book email Thecantonarms@gmail.com @cantonarms
1 month ago
1546
View on Instagram |
7/8
Winter and its cold hands have us fully in a tight embrace right now. And so we find ourselves cooking more often than not, to warm our souls. A ham at the weekend is one such thing that does the job. It can be used for all kinds of dishes and provide your weekdays with a plethora of fine sandwiches. But this fine cut also produces something else. An excellent, warming stock that should not be thrown away. In fact, it should be used to make something just as special. A deep, hearty split pea and ham soup. And here is @grylos showing you how to do it. Like most things, if you cook with time and consideration, the by-product is often just as good as the main event.
1 month ago
14516
View on Instagram |
8/8