Home › Skewer Combinations › Shashlik
Shashlik
SHASHLIK HAILS FROM the Caucasus where it was originally a campfire dish of sheepherders who anywhere on on earth can always get away with choice portions of a baby lamb and hide the rest of the evidence.
If you want to be extravagant and enjoy shashlik at its best, follow their example, even if you don't carry a shepherd's dagger to serve as a skewer. Have a crown of lamb split down the backbone, and trim out the delicate fillet of meat that is protected by the half circle of bones. Of course this fillet is nothing but the nuggets of a string of rib lamb chops that have not been hacked into chops but have been left in one piece.
Having thus extracted the whole heart of a lot of lamb chops, thread this long slender piece of meat on a long thin metal skewer, and broil it quickly over a small bed of very hot coals. If you flip it over several times it will be done in not more than 8-10 minutes. The heat travels through the metal skewer, cooking the center while the outside is grilling. Season it with salt and pepper only-nothing more. A nice treat, which, because of its cost, is usually shared between a couple of greedy tidbit eaters, shutting out the rest of the world. The chances are that it would be wasted on half the members of any big picnic party, anyway, for they would frankly prefer hot dogs.
The loin cut out of a string of loin lamb chops may be grilled shashlik fashion, too, but the thickness of this cut permits it to be done on the roasting spit with better effect. Excellent shashliks can also be made from a leg or a shoulder of lamb. Have your butcher cut the meat into strips, about 11/2 inches thick each way and the proper length for your skewers at least 6 inches. Leg meat will probably be tender enough, but marinate it to make sure. And by all means marinate shoulder meat.
The method here is a whole rack fillet threaded lengthwise on a metal skewer and grilled fast. Two things carry it: a small, very hot bed of coals and a solid metal skewer that conducts heat into the center.
- What to ask the butcher forA "crown of lamb split down the backbone" here means the rib section; what you want is the eye of the rib -- what the original calls the nuggets of a string of rib lamb chops -- lifted out whole rather than cut into chops. A butcher will know this as boning out a rack whole, and it is worth asking a day ahead.
- Skewer choice mattersThe recipe depends on the skewer conducting heat to the interior, so use a flat metal skewer, not bamboo. Flat stops the meat spinning when you turn it, and the extra surface carries more heat inward.
- Coal bed"A small bed of very hot coals" points to coals burned down to gray ash, kept to a bed no wider than the meat needs, and hot enough that a hand held a few inches above can only stay a moment. A broad cool fire will dry the fillet before it colors.
- Timing and donenessEight to ten minutes on a single rack fillet lands around medium-rare in the thickest part, which is where lamb loin belongs. Pull it at 130-135F internal and let it rest five minutes on the skewer.
- Cubed lamb from leg or shoulderThe "11/2 inches" in the original is one and a half inches each way. Shoulder is the more flavorful cut but needs the marinade the text insists on; leg is leaner and can be dry if pushed past medium.
- Marinade, since none is givenNo marinade is specified anywhere in the piece. A common Caucasian treatment is onion, salt, pepper and a little acid such as wine or lemon, some hours refrigerated; oil and a spoonful of yogurt are often used for shoulder meat.
- Seasoning the rack filletSalt and pepper only is deliberate here, and it is right for the loin eye. Save the herbs and spices for the cheaper cuts, which want them.
- YieldOne rack fillet feeds two as a first course, or one person disinclined to share. Figure 6-8 oz of cubed leg or shoulder per person for skewers as a main course.
Shashlik is the Russian rendering of a Turkic word for skewered meat, generally traced to shish, a spit or skewer, and it reached Russian and then American tables by way of the Caucasus, as the writer says. What is distinctive about this particular version is that it is not the cubed, marinated skewer most cookbooks mean by the word; it is the eye of a rack of lamb left whole, which is an argument for the skewer as a cooking tool rather than a way of using up scraps. The tone of the entry places it firmly in mid-twentieth-century American outdoor cookery, when barbecue writing was addressed to a host who fancied himself a connoisseur among hot dog eaters, and when a butcher could still be asked to bone out a rack a particular way without explanation.