A profuse extravagance of fresh cracked black pepper, sea salt, and sage pre-mixed and ready in a bowl. The roast was rinsed, dried with a kitchen towel then slavered with olive oil and completely coated by packing on pepper/salt/sage.
When I was a little bitty kid I used to imitate Euell Gibbons whom I knew only from Grape Nuts® commercials. I'd smash my 'S's so that saliva would bubble out the side of my mouth, and I'd say in a distortion of a halting Texas accent,
"Hello, I'm Euell Gibbonsxh."
Then I'd stand there and wait for a reaction.
"Have you ever eaten a pine tree? "
Which right there put myself in stitches inside but I held it together outwardly for comedic effect.
" I am the author of sxheven booksxh on natural foodsxh.
Pause.
Mah firsxht book is titled, You and Natural Foodsxh.
Pause.
"Have you ever eaten a pine tree? "
Which right there put myself in stitches inside but I held it together outwardly for comedic effect.
" I am the author of sxheven booksxh on natural foodsxh.
Pause.
Mah firsxht book is titled, You and Natural Foodsxh.
Pause.
Mah schecond book is titled, Natural Foodsxh and You.
Half pause.
Mah third bood is titled, Foodsxh Natural and You.
Half pause.
Half pause.
My fourth book is titled, Food and You Natural."
I'd maintain an earnest expression and persist with an increasingly implausible bibliography keeping to the same four words.
"Mah fifth book is titled, You Natural and Foods
Mah sxhth book is titled, And Foods Natural You
Mah sxheventh book is titled, You Foodsxh Natural and."
I don't know why Euell Gibbons struck me as being so funny. I think he was eating something woodsy in the advert. Plus Grape Nuts gave me the fear. Still does.
Before that, when I was five, between kindergarden and first grade, I sat down one summer morning really really really hungry and poured a full bowl of Grape Nuts from their undersized box as if it were ordinary cereal. I poured nearly half the box into my cereal bowl. My mother saw this and checked me. I didn't realize Grape Nuts is high-pressure super-compressed nuclear-fused heavy nuggets. Mum goes,
"You won't be able to eat all that."
It was actually the first time I'd ever even seen Grape Nuts, but I was certain I could finish the whole bowl. I go,
"I can too."
My mother snapped, "You're going to sit there UNTIL YOU FINISH, Young Man!" And she meant it. She could be quite authoritarian sometimes.
For some reason it was just her and me in the kitchen that morning as if my two brothers and two sisters didn't exist and that is not possible. Yet this is the picture that develops as I recall the scene encoded by myself as a tot whose unspoiled perceptions manage to get so much not quite right, so just relax then and accept the unreasonably menacing tone.
I started in on the Grape Nuts. They were like little stones. They swelled up with milk but they remained hard. I still had my first teeth and crunching the Grape Nuts hurt my teeth and jaws cheeks and throat and everything. I chewed and chewed and chewed and chewed and chewed and chewed, and swallowed, then repeated all that over and over, but the bowl of Grape Nuts never diminished. In fact, it grew. Seemed to. I thought, "how am I going to get out of this?" I worried about it. Time elapsed. Two days or possibly it was three minutes. Same thing. The cereal took over my life and I didn't know how to get out of it. I could eat a few teaspoons but that was it. Oh I know. I'll cry, that's what. I started laying it on. Get into it. Gauge effectiveness, then really lay it on. I must be convincingly pathetic so that any reachable human being would pity me. Hangs head.
"I can't do this. I didn't knoooowooooohoooohooooohooooo."
Before that, when I was five, between kindergarden and first grade, I sat down one summer morning really really really hungry and poured a full bowl of Grape Nuts from their undersized box as if it were ordinary cereal. I poured nearly half the box into my cereal bowl. My mother saw this and checked me. I didn't realize Grape Nuts is high-pressure super-compressed nuclear-fused heavy nuggets. Mum goes,
"You won't be able to eat all that."
It was actually the first time I'd ever even seen Grape Nuts, but I was certain I could finish the whole bowl. I go,
"I can too."
My mother snapped, "You're going to sit there UNTIL YOU FINISH, Young Man!" And she meant it. She could be quite authoritarian sometimes.
For some reason it was just her and me in the kitchen that morning as if my two brothers and two sisters didn't exist and that is not possible. Yet this is the picture that develops as I recall the scene encoded by myself as a tot whose unspoiled perceptions manage to get so much not quite right, so just relax then and accept the unreasonably menacing tone.
I started in on the Grape Nuts. They were like little stones. They swelled up with milk but they remained hard. I still had my first teeth and crunching the Grape Nuts hurt my teeth and jaws cheeks and throat and everything. I chewed and chewed and chewed and chewed and chewed and chewed, and swallowed, then repeated all that over and over, but the bowl of Grape Nuts never diminished. In fact, it grew. Seemed to. I thought, "how am I going to get out of this?" I worried about it. Time elapsed. Two days or possibly it was three minutes. Same thing. The cereal took over my life and I didn't know how to get out of it. I could eat a few teaspoons but that was it. Oh I know. I'll cry, that's what. I started laying it on. Get into it. Gauge effectiveness, then really lay it on. I must be convincingly pathetic so that any reachable human being would pity me. Hangs head.
"I can't do this. I didn't knoooowooooohoooohooooohooooo."
So anyway. The seasoning is really packed on the lamb roast to a thick crust. It's fantastic. It filled the apartment with wonderful aroma. The potatoes too. Didn't have any mint, which would have been perfect, nor mint jelly, so I used apricot preserves, which was fine, if a little overly sweet.
The lamb roast came with a pop-out timer. I wish they wouldn't do that. They are very misleading. It popped out way too early. I use my own thermometer and cooked it to internal 155℉ internal temperature expecting some 10℉ carryover. Tested at several spots. It turned out perfectly to my taste. I'd be pleased to serve this roast and these roasted potatoes to guests. Both roast and potatoes at a hot 400℉ .
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