My college friend Carol got me hooked on lamb, which, as I write this, makes lamb sound like some sort of illicit substance. I guess it was, to me, who at that point in my life had only tasted overcooked lamb roast at Easter: big grey slabs covered in bright green mint jelly, in order to make the bites more palatable. (Which reminds me that I should make a flatbread wrap with mint jelly, just as some sort of nostalgic challenge.)

At Carol’s, she made lamb right. It was juicy and rare, mouthwateringly good. Mint jelly didn’t touch the stuff, but cumin did, and coriander, and chilis, garlic, and lemon juice. She used unusual, less expensive cuts too, not just fancy lamb chops. We would roast lamb shoulder whole or in slices like big steaks on the grill. She would braise shanks in wine with preserved lemon until the meat fell off the bone, begging to be eaten. We’d mop up the drippings with flatbread. During that time, lamb became my favorite protein.

And it still is! If I’m feeling flush, I’ll find a CSA or a farmer who is selling lamb at the right time in the season and splurge on a whole one. Farm raised lamb is about as good as it gets. The first time I ever did this, I met the farmer in an empty parking lot on a Saturday morning, my pocket full of cash, and his trunk full of a couple brown cardboard boxes with all those wonderful cuts inside, wrapped up. It felt like a covert operation, which is in keeping with the whole theme.

Maybe you already know how great a roasted leg of lamb can be, and maybe there are occasions when you have a little leftover roast or shoulder and you need that lamb fix. This flatbread recipe makes your lamb shine with tahini and orange juice, tomatoes, and some sharp feta. One bite and you’ll be hooked. Just don’t blame Carol, blame me!

-Amy at Flatout