
There’s nothing like several decades of prosperity to alter a dish, and while my Irish forebears would recognize the Irish Stew I enjoy today, they surely would think it’s very grand. What used to be a peasant meal has evolved, using finer ingredients and often, the classic French technique of mounting a sauce, adding a bit of butter at the end, as advocated by Ireland’s legendary (and French-trained) cooking teacher and hotelier, Myrtle Allen. I happily take her advice.
Long before the Great Famine (I will leave alone the discussions of British imperialism and whether it was a created famine), potatoes were an important staple in the Irish diet, as were other root vegetables that could grow on hardscrabble farms. People had sheep and kept them as long as possible for their wool and milk. When they finally went to slaughter they were more than two years old, making their meat tough mutton, not tender lamb. With those circumstances came the humble and filling stew of long-cooked mutton and potatoes.
It’s almost impossible to find mutton these days and we probably wouldn’t eat it if we could. Lamb is now the order of the day for Irish Stew and when I find veal on sale I use that, as I have here. Beef can also be used, of course, but it’s not authentic.
Carrots or not? That’s an eternal debate when it comes to this stew, much like the latke debate about whether to shred or grate the potatoes. My family has always used them and I think most Americans expect them. I love carrots and use a lot of them; I can’t imagine this stew without them.
You could use water for the liquid, as my ancestors did, but I prefer chicken broth or stock. I did try one of the new stocks this time, College Inn in an asceptic pack, and I like its heartier flavors. If you’re a purist, roast some lamb bones and make a lamb stock. That’s how it’s done in Ireland’s finest restaurants but I’m willing to forego that at home. This is often made with bone-in lamb chops and if that’s your choice, brown and layer them as for cut-up meat and serve them still on the bone.
I simmer this in the oven; in the old days it was probably left to cook in a fireplace. Do enjoy the aroma while it cooks. Add some peasant brown bread, which now enjoys its status as whole wheat, to sop up the liquid and you’ve got a cold-weather meal that’s classic but thoroughly modern.
Ella’s Irish Stew
With thanks to Myrtle Allen
1 TB vegetable oil
1 medium onion, chopped
coarse salt and fresh-ground pepper
1 – 1.5 pounds lamb, veal or beef, in stew-sized chunks
8 – 12 oz. peeled, cut carrots
1 pound peeled new potatoes or floury potatoes, peeled and quartered
16 – 20 oz. chicken stock or broth
1 TB butter
1 TB minced parsley
1 TB snipped chives
pinch of thyme (optional but traditional in some regions)
Set a rack in the middle of the oven and preheat to 350F/180C/Gas 4.
In a 4 or 5 quart pot with an oven-safe lid, heat the oil over medium heat until shimmering. Add the chopped onion and cook until fragrant and beginning to brown, about one minute.
Season the meat well with salt and pepper, add to the pot and brown evenly, working in batches if necessary to avoid overcrowding. Remove half the browned meat and reserve.
Layer the remaining ingredients by adding the carrots to the meat and onion in the pot, then the rest of the meat and finally the potatoes. Add enough broth or stock to come within an inch of the top of the potatoes.
Bring to a simmer then put the lid on, transfer to the oven and cook for 1 1/2 to 2 hours, until the vegetables are tender. Whole new potatoes will take longer than quartered potatoes.
With a slotted spoon, transfer the meat and vegetables to a bowl. Add the butter, parsley and chives (and thyme if using) to the pot and stir until the butter melts. Adjust seasoning.
Serve by putting meat and vegetables into bowls and spooning over the liquid.
Ella’s note: Russets and Idahos are the most common floury potatoes in the US and will help to thicken the liquid as they break down, if that’s how you like it. Golden Wonder and Maris Piper are common varieties in the UK. I like the appearance of new potatoes and don’t mind a thinner broth.
Copyright (C) 2008 From Scratch All Rights Reserved
Print This Post








{ 2 comments… read them below or add one }
There are still a few of us who eat mutton, especially here in the UK. I love the flavour and am more than happy to cook mutton very slowly until its more tender than most lamb. It’s difficult to find, even in specialist butcher’s shops, but I’m fortunate in being able to swap the use of land, homebrew or pork for older sheep from a neighbouring farm. The farmer thinks I’m a bit mad for wanting worthless, knackered, old sheep but you get a lot more meat than you do from a lamb and the flavour is outstanding.
Stonehead’s last blog post..?Can’t you have pork without killing the pigs??
What the farmer doesn’t know won’t hurt! I can only imagine the flavor. And you’ve got bones for stock.
A few cuts of beef here are known as “butcher’s cuts” because they’re tough, but really flavorful when made right. One, called hangar steak, has become rather expensive because it’s used for fajitas. Used to be dirt cheap until it was gentrified.