Lay of the Lamb
Anyone can roast a pig. OK, not anyone, but it takes real gumption to attempt a lamb roast. If not real gumption, then at least the presence of a Pakistani warlord to oversee the proceedings. At an undisclosed location in Brooklyn this weekend, both were in short supply.
It was, however a valiant effort. As we said, the roasting of a lamb over a pit of flame (or in the case of Brooklyn, an improvised cinder block pit since you don’t want to dig in and disturb the toxic soil) is not easily done. The animal takes constant attention least it burn or dry out. A pig is pretty much the set-it-and-forget-it school of backyard cookery. The lamb is another matter. The butchery of the lamb is also another matter, and unlike the pig, a lamb needs to be skinned. Luckily there are places in Queens that have taken care of all this — and done it in accordance with Islamic law to boot.
The cooked lamb in this case was an impressive and commendable feat. Hours of careful preparation (and, may we add, some very judicious seasoning) net you what looks to all like a the charred remains of a dog on a table, a couple of racks of lamb still attached to their host (which it seems is what every backyard barbarian goes for first, tearing at the ribs to get to what they continually assure you is “the best part”), and a whole lot of people squeamishly attempting to slice what else they can off. This creates a bottle neck, and the Butcher can tell you, that what is really needed in these situations is someone with a sharp knife and modicum of expertise.
