I lied. It’s lamb. I ate lamb, not mutton. It sounds less brutal when you say, “Mutton!”
Loosely following the directions on the back of the package, I seared the flesh in my adolescent skillet, turning the hunk over before scraping it into the oven at 375 degrees Farenheit. I may have left it alone for a little too long, but only just a tad.
The finished result: simply delicious! I had added a little flavor earlier – my own dressing:
- apple cider vinegar
- rice wine vinegar
- extra virgin olive oil
- himalayan salt
A maturing skillet provides a deep sense of satisfaction to cooking. Every time I burn something, I scrape off the evidence and think, “Oh, well.” But when the juice from this lamb mingled with my dressing, the skillet filled to about an inch of delicious sauce. Victory! I still can’t get over the lingering savor.
And the skillet always remembers.