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I’m full of the joys of food at the moment (or always). If you know me, you know I love food and I love to cook. I believe this love and my skill as a cook is genetic – though I’m sure it can’t be proven. My mother is an excellent cook, her mother was an excellent cook and I have a whole string of great aunties that cooked or baked professionally. My paternal grandmother was also an excellent cook. So, I feel that my genes must be full of it.

One of my very favorite things to eat and to cook is lamb. I love it in all forms. For the last two months, I have been hounding the Farmer’s Market for local lamb. They keep telling me, “Soon.” I like to buy local and seasonal products when I can, but I’ve been itching for lamb for so long now that I succumbed last week and bought some at Whole Foods. We had lamb burgers and I was so happy I could cry.* I think what really excited me the most was that I seasoned them with herbs from my garden.

Around midday I went out and took pieces of coriander, chives, curry and mint, added them to my mini prep and sent them spinning. I tossed in a smidge of olive oil, half a shallot and a couple cloves of garlic. Then, I simply added all of that to a pound of lamb, mixed it all up, divided it into four balls, and put it into the fridge for several hours so all the flavors could sink into the meat. The smell was so good I was almost reduced to tears at that moment. All afternoon long I could smell the fragrant herbs and longed for dinner.

In the late afternoon, I headed to the wine market, bought a bottle of Spanish Red (highly recommended by the wine guy) and headed home – oh, I may just have bought a baguette because they were fresh (good bread for the husband’s roast beef and blue cheese sandwiches – his work lunch for the week).

By the time, my husband came home and our friend Tom came over, I was in a hunger frenzy. Tom, who was not there for dinner, was forced to sit because I wanted to eat and when a Sparks woman is hungry, a Sparks woman needs to eat. I was in such a frenzy that I opened the wrong bottle of wine – a Bordeaux.

I toasted the buns, lathered on yogurt sauce and we tucked in. It was all that I had hoped for. Lamb really is just the very best meat. And, because we didn’t have the Spanish Red with the burgers, that just means that kebabs are on the horizon for next week.

*Food often reduces me to tears. Once at a restaurant with Sarah I wept over the foie gras covered quail.

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