Braised lamb shanks: a sumptuous weekend one pot

Braising isn’t a terribly glamorous way of cooking: you’re not flipping steaks over an open fire, flambéeing alcohol, or shucking oysters. No one is going to gasp at your cheffy technique if you plump for braising. And when you pull the dish from the oven, it may not look any more exciting: no soaring soufflés, or mahogany egg-washed wellingtons. It’s just a jumble of meat and veg in a single dish, cooked until the meat is yielding and the sauce luscious. Braising is pretty unassuming both before and after cooking – but for all its culinary modesty, it packs a real punch.

Braising is an old-as-the-hills way of cooking meat or vegetables in a covered pot with a little liquid (this could be stock, wine or water). It’s a slow-cooking technique, one that should render the meat or vegetables extremely tender. It’s also a seriously stress-free way of cooking: once the pot is in the oven, there’s almost no need to touch it, and there’s minimal risk of over- or under-cooking the dish.

Lamb shanks are one of my favourite cuts to braise. When it comes to meat, braising is great for cooking tougher cuts – like shanks, but also the shoulder, neck and shortribs. It breaks down the connective tissues in the muscles; it’s this connective tissue that makes the meat chewy if cooked hot and fast. If cooked slowly, the connective tissue turns into gelatine, making the meat soft and tender – and also gives body to the sauce that forms around the meat, making it rich and luscious. It’s one pot cooking at its very best: the liquid ensuring that the meat and veg cook evenly and slowly, and the meat giving the sauce depth in texture and flavour: a deliciously symbiotic relationship.

If you’d like to serve on the bone, ask your butcher to French trim the shanks for you – or do it yourself by cutting the flesh at the slim end of the shank to expose an inch to an inch and a half of bone: carefully slide a sharp knife underneath the membrane that sits on top of the exposed bone.