Spit and relish

MONITOR: THIRTEEN KILOS SOUNDS like a lot of lamb, but then we had 24 people to feed

MONITOR:THIRTEEN KILOS SOUNDS like a lot of lamb, but then we had 24 people to feed. The idea started as one of those late-night suggestions that spiralled. So the following morning, a call was made and a few days later we took delivery of a headless but otherwise intact lamb.

Spit-roasting is one of the oldest ways of cooking and it was only as the allotted day drew closer that we realised nobody had a clue what they were doing. But divide and rule and you can conquer. We hoped.

The spit was fashioned from a piece of girder iron bent at the end to form a handle. We drilled two holes and added two nails to stop the beast spinning on the rod. The carpenter among us fashioned two posts, each with five slots angled upwards, so we could raise or lower the lamb depending on the heat required. We built a rough wall of bricks to protect the wooden structure from the heat.

Our butcher reckoned it would take two hours to cook. We rather thought three, given we were unlikely to get things right first time. So we built and lit a fire at 11am and started 30 minutes later.

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You build the fire a little off-centre, running the entire length of the lamb. As it dies down, you push the grey embers towards the spit and add new wood at the back. Not too much, because the heat needs to be intense but not fierce.

As to seasoning and stuffing, we opted to keep things simple. We rubbed roughly chopped garlic and rosemary, plenty of salt and pepper and a little olive oil on the inside and then put in large bunches of rosemary to both flavour and fill the cavity out. Things were sewn up with a metal skewer, but you could just as easily use cotton or string. We then added copious seasoning to the outside of the lamb and at 11.30am we started cooking for an anticipated eating time of 3pm. Not much happened at first, which was a bit of an anti-climax. After all this trouble, the lamb, trussed up, its legs neatly tied at either end, sat there doing nothing. But after about 20 minutes, the skin started to sizzle. We turned the spit through 180 degrees and got going on the other side.

Two hours later, turning every 10 minutes or so, we had a golden brown exterior and the smell of roast lamb was just beginning to permeate the air. We had all been busy earlier making tzatziki, caponata, roasted peppers with mozzarella, blanched asparagus, roasted onions and blanched fennel, which we then tossed with anchovies, chilli and olive oil to make a cooked salad. For the last hour we cooked whole artichokes in the embers of the fire and by the time we had picked and eaten our way through these, the lamb was just about ready.

A skewer inserted into the leg did not come out hot, but cutting a little of the meat away suggested all was tender. The meat was pale in colour, meltingly soft, decidedly delicious and perfectly cooked.

Carving was not easy. A garden table wrapped in clingfilm with a carving knife and a lot of handwork proved the most successful. Because the cooking is done at an even but relatively low temperature, nothing is too hot to handle. Trays of rosemary-roasted potatoes and the remains of the various salads were served alongside the lamb. Simple food, but all the better for being just that.