On Craft

Craft coffee, craftsmanship, crafting a good life; roasted lamb.

I was over at Uncle Steady’s a few weeks ago, and, for a brief moment in time, we found ourselves with no obligations: no kids to watch, food to cook, tables to clean, or errands to run. These respites are rare. Taking advantage of this small miracle, we decided to decamp to his garage and roast some coffee beans.

If you’ve never had the occasion to roast your own beans, you might be amused to learn that it can be accomplished with little more than a few appliances you might find at your neighborhood transfer station: a heat gun, an electronic bread machine; a portable fan, a window screen. The process requires little scientific precision — the gun is set to “hot,” the beans tumbled on “knead,” they are pulled just after they start to crack “like popcorn.” They’re decanted onto the screen and cooled over “HI,” then tossed into the air, chaff blown into the breeze. Despite the highfalutin moniker of “City Roast,” the production of your third wave coffee is more shop class than science lab — and even that might be generous.

Nevertheless, the coffee is wonderful. Steady buys top-grade beans, and even with a bootlegged roasting apparatus, he puts serious thought into the flavor of his beans. It’s the same amount of dedication he puts into making sourdough, or — when he was doing it — brewing his own beer. It’s the same diligence he shows when he shapes a surfboard, works with wood, or builds a speargun¹.

This assiduity is a trait I admire in Steady. It’s a trait I admire in anyone who takes the time to forsake the convenience of “ready-made” and instead builds. In fact, I’d even go so far as to say having that trait is a pretty good barometer for whether or not I’d enjoy spending time with you. I have friends who tend their own gardens, build their own arrows, cook their own meals — even read entire, physical books. That willingness to do the extra work — and enjoy the process — is what resonates.

As Steady and I were finishing up, I found myself wondering from where this tendency towards heedfulness comes. Is it inborn or is it learned? Is it something of both? Certainly someone who grows up thinking it’s perfectly normal to spend a Sunday afternoon listening for the second crack of coffee beans may continue to see the value in doing things themselves — but they might just as easily decide all that work is not worth the hassle and trend toward convenience. Likewise one might grow up in a pre-packaged, pre-made dystopia and suddenly — like a shiitake shocked into spawning — find oneself standing o’ertop a lamb carcass working through the finer points of seam butchery (and enjoying every cut).

Society reduces us to ease. I think it does the soul good to practice some degree of craft. You don’t need to roast your own beans, process your own sausage, ferment your own sauerkraut. But I believe — and really, hope to instill in my kids — that there is value in the knowledge of how to do these things, that the effort — however tedious or meticulous — is, in the end, worth more than the time you’d otherwise save.

That’s the cost and the reward of radical living.

Now the clever thing to do here would be to give you a recipe that makes use of coffee — a mole or a steak rub. But, I’m not that clever nor do I cook with enough foresight to be able to give an appropriate recipe. Instead, we’re left with what is left at the bottom of our freezer as we finish the last of our venison, last of our beef, last of our lamb.² When I went down to take stock, I thought we had some porkchops, but instead came up with a rear leg of lamb.

Now

Julia Watson

posted a lovely looking recipe for lamb recently, and if I were thinking, I would have made that — but instead I went for convenience, dusting it with salt, pepper, garlic, oregano, and rosemary in the morning, then throwing it on the Traeger at 225(F) for a few hours later that afternoon.

However you choose to cook it, lamb feels appropriate for spring — so you might as well make the most of it.

If you have the foresight, prepare a marinade of lemon juice, fresh garlic, olive oil, salt, pepper, and oregano and rosemary, submerging a leg of lamb carefully into it, and letting it soak overnight. The next day, pre-heat your oven or smoker to 225(F) and let the lamb come to room temperature (or close to it), then place it in the heat for 3-4 hours until the internal temp reads at least 135(F) — which is how I like it — or up to 155(F), depending on your preferences.

If you forget to defrost or marinate the lamb in time, this works just as well with a dry rub applied a couple hours before you want to cook it.

There you go, folks — a roasted leg of lamb. Depending on the preferences of your wife — or mother — this might be a nice approach for Mother’s Day brunch. There’s little that shows appreciate for a mother more than you diligently crafting a meal.

The Family CWD will not be crafting meals this weekend, as we’re packing up ship for our first getaway as a family of five, ferrying over to Martha’s Vineyard for a few days celebrating Mrs. CWD. We have aspirations of good eating, maybe some clamming or crabbing or fishing or — maybe, if I am lucky — some turkey hunting while we’re there. But, as it should be, the real goal is to enjoy each other’s company as a family.

However you’re spending this weekend, I hope you make an effort to call your mom.

We’ll see you back here next week.

1. At least I hope he does, since my spearing season is riding on it!

2. Matt, I’ll be hitting you up for a half bison soon!