Seasonal Ontario Food

Yeah, yeah. I know... Cape Breton isn't in Ontario. Still, I've been making these for closer to 40 years than I like to think about. They are one of the first things I ever baked. I got the recipe from my grandmother, who was from Pictou rather than Cape Breton, but these are the real deal nevertheless. Nova Scotian cooking uses a lot of brown sugar and molasses, which came up from the Caribbean in exchange for salt cod.

You can make these with spelt flour if you like. Use a slightly skimpy amount of spelt flour, by a tablespoon say, and the same of extra milk, or they may come out a little dry.

Lovely with butter and jam, and a nice big pot of tea. Bliss, in fact.

Note Added 20/10/17: I found this recipe while going through Dad's old cook book, and in fact they didn't come directly from Grandma, but are ascribed to Mrs. Robinson of Englishtown, N.S. (north of Sydney, on the coast, so yes, definitely from Cape Breton.)

10 to 12 scones
30 minutes - 15 minutes prep time

1 1/2 cups soft whole wheat flour
1 1/2 cups soft unbleached wheat flour
3 teaspoons baking powder
1/2 teaspoon salt

1/2 cup unsalted butter
3/4 cup Sucanat or dark brown sugar
1 extra-large egg
3/4 cup milk

Preheat the oven to 350°F. Line a large baking tray with parchment paper.

Sift or gently mix together the flours, baking powder and salt. Set aside.

Cream the butter. Beat in the brown sugar, then the egg. Mix the flour into the butter mixture alternately with the milk to make a soft, biscuit-like dough.

Divide the dough into 2 equal parts. Pat each section of the dough out to about 1 inch thick on a floured board, and form it into a neat circle. Cut it into 6 wedges, and put each wedge on the parchment paper-lined baking tray. (Or you could just lightly grease and flour the tray if you prefer.) Repeat with the other section of dough.

Bake for 12 to 15 minutes, until golden brown and just firm.

I have gotten lazy in my old age and tend to use a disher to scoop them out (like a slightly small ice-cream scoop.) This makes a round scone, obviously, and I tend to get 11 of them.

On Saturday, we popped into Golden Hearth Baking in downtown Kitchener. They are located directly opposite the Kitchener Farmer's Market, and have been open there for 1 year as of March.



We arrived around 2:00 pm, and found that they were down to their last half dozen loaves of bread, and just a few of their croissants and other pastries.

I'll retype that list of breads that they sell - Epi, Olive Fougasse, Pain Levain, Rosemary Focaccia, Schiacciata con l'uva, Classic French Brioche, Whole Wheat Multigrain, Organic Whole Grain Spelt, Whole Wheat Rye, Flax Raisin Walnut, and 90% Dark Rye. They make 300 to 400 loaves every Saturday as well as 500 croissants - but you should still get there before noon as they do sell out. On Saturdays they open at 7:00 am to run concurrently with the Farmers Market.

The bakery is run by Aura Hertzog and her partner Tim Simpson. They are both graduates of George Brown College, and returned to the area after a number of years away to be closer to relatives. They purchased an old pizzeria that came equiped with ovens, so that their only other major purchase was equipment for the production of croissants.

Their croissants, by the way, are excellent - the perfect balance of butter and flakiness. Their pain au chocolat was full of rich dark chocolate, and their almond croissants very flavourful. We went away with a few other pastries as well, but I wasn't quick enough on my feet and didn't get to try them. I can report, however, that they were consumed with enthusiasm.

In addition to their baked goods, they have a small but interesting selection of jams, juices, flours, and other bits and pieces.

The baking area at the back of the shop.

Their pain levain; the only bread they had left by the time we arrived, which was fine with us as that's a very popular loaf in this household. It's a nice bubbly, chewy sourdough loaf with a delicate but definite tang; it would make very good sandwiches. As mentioned, we also got some of their croissants and other pastries, but those did not last long enough to be photographed.

At Golden Hearth they use a mixture of organic and conventional flours; both from local sources. I'm looking forward to visiting them again!

I really like these a lot. Maybe this summer I can get a food dryer; then the dried apricots can be local too.

4 servings
45 minutes - 15 minutes prep time


4 cups peeled, diced rutabaga
12 dried apricots
2 tablespoons butter
2 tablespoons Sucanat or dark brown sugar

Peel and dice the rutabaga, being careful to keep the cubes as even in size as possible. Put them in a pot with water to just cover, and cook them until just tender.

Meanwhile, cut the apricots into quarters. When the rutabaga is just done, throw the apricots into the pot for one minute to plump them up a little.

Drain the rutabaga and apricots. Put the butter and sugar into the pan and add the rutabaga back in. Cook over low heat, stirring frequently until the rutabaga and apricots are glazed; about 3 or 4 minutes.

Use any of the usual suspects for this pot roast: chuck roast, blade roast, brisket, rump or round roast. This is good the day it is made; but it is even better heated up the next day. Very, very simple. The main point is to get the zing from the sauerkraut/brine just right, so check before you add and adjust the proportions if necessary.

4 to 6 servings
2 1/2 hours - 15 minutes prep time

1 beef pot roast, 1.5 to 2 kilos (3 1/2 to 4 1/2 pounds)
2 large onions
2 cups drained sauerkraut
2/3 cup water
1/3 cup brine from the sauerkraut, or pickle juice or mild vinegar
salt and pepper

Preheat the oven to 300°F.

Plonk the roast in a reasonably snug, deep roasting dish, and add the onions, peeled and chopped, and the sauerkraut. Add the water and brine or vinegar. Season with salt and generously with pepper. (You will need to have some idea how salty your brine is before you add any more; test it.)

Cover the dish with a lid if the dish has one, or aluminum foil if it doesn't. Roast for 2 to 2 1/2 hours, until the meat is tender.

As noted, this is best made in advance and re-heated the next day.

I had 6 great-aunts on my mothers side of the family, and all of them were keen cooks. This recipe came from my great-aunt Alethea, who was really much more like a grandmother to me. She and Uncle George had a big old white frame house in Quebec, with raspberries and cows out back and it was the best house in the world. All long gone, alas; aunt, uncle, cows and house.

Well, tempus fugit; have some pie. We still have the pie.

Aunt Alethea made this with a mixture of rhubarb and strawberries. I prefer straight rhubarb. I have also made it with sour cherries or cranberries; they're both good. Currants or gooseberries would work if you don't mind the seeds. You do want fruit that is naturally fairly sour, to counterbalance the richness and sweetness of the rest of the pie.

6 to 8 servings
1 hour - 30 minutes prep time

Oops; collapsed a little when I cut it. I should have left it to cool longer...

single pie crust for 9" pie pan

4 cups finely chopped rhubarb or other sour fruit

1 cup sugar
1/3 cup flour
1/2 cup sour cream

1/2 cup flour
1/2 cup Sucanat or dark brown sugar
1/4 cup butter

3 extra-large egg whites
1/4 teaspoon cream of tartar
6 tablespoons sugar

Prepare the pie crust, roll it out and fit it to your pie plate, and prick it all over with a fork. Bake it at 400°F for 10 minutes, until very lightly browned.

Meanwhile, trim the rhubarb and chop it finely.

Mix the sugar, flour and sour cream. The mixture should be fairly thick, but not too thick to flow a little. Depending on your sour cream, you may need to add a spoonful or so more.

Let the pie crust cool enough to handle, then fill it with the rhubarb. Spread the sour cream mixture evenly over the rhubarb.

Mix the flour, Sucanat or brown sugar and butter until it resembles coarse crumbs. Sprinkle the crumbs over the top of the pie. Bake the pie at 400°F for 40 minutes, until the crumbs are browned.

Read it and weep... of course, remember you'd be buying it with 1962 wages as well...


"Ontario forced rhubarb, grown indoors in the dark at about 55° to make it long and pale pink. Best known brands (sic) are called Sutton Seedless and Victoria.They are widely grown but most Toronto crops come from Holland Marsh, Peel County and Burlington. Rhubarb used to be marketed in rolled-up newspapers but now comes handsomely put up in cartons and many stores divide it into pound packs neatly done in clear wrap. Prices vary around 21 to 29 cents a pound slightly up from last week."

"There are few economy priced items on the market this week.Turnips, carrots and parsnips are about the best for slim budgets. Ontario grown carrots are 25 cents for a three-pound bag."

"Broccoli is 29 cents a bunch and there is a fair supply of fresh. Asparagus on the market selling at about 39 cents for 1/2 pound."

"Salads always give a bright, fresh taste to winter dinners -- Here are some prices. Imported radishes and green onions are specially priced at three bunches for 25 cents but lettuce is at regular prices, about two heads for 39 cents."

"Tiny cherry tomatoes sell at 35 cents a pint and large vine ripe tomatoes are 35 cents a pound. Tomatoes from the Canary Islands (think tropics and forget the weather) sell at 39 cents a pound. Celery is up to 23 cents a bunch."

"In the fruit line you will find ruby red grapefruit selling at four for 39 cents and large size navel oranges at 69 cents a dozen."

"There's one special on those long Idaho-type potatoes -- Russet Burbank potatoes are selling at 39 cents for 10 pounds."

"Chicken is on again at an exceptionally low price -- 25 cents each for grade A birds up to 3 1/2 lbs dressed. Pre-dressed fresh grade A turkey broilers are selling at 39 cents a pound."

"This week one chain store has prime rib roasts of beek at 69 cents a pound, blade roasts at 49 cents a pound, short rib roasts at 57 cents a pound, cross rib roasts at 59 cents a pound and boneless and rolled beef brisket for pot roasts at 45 cents a pound. Lean minced beef is selling at 41 cents a pound."

"There is always some interesting fish news on the market and this week it's Lake Nipigon whitefish selling at 39 cents. There's frozen codfish at 33 cents a pound pack and halibut steaks at 55 cents for a 12-oz pack."

"Polish sausage is specially priced at 49 cents a pound."


You could get 2 11-ounce bottles of Heinz ketchup for .49¢, or for the same price you could get 4 tins of Heinz tomato soup, or 3 tins of Heinz vegetarian baked beans or Heinz spaghetti in tomato sauce. A 16-ounce jar of bread and butter pickles would set you back .27¢.

Jane Parker angel food cake was on sale for .39¢ down from the usual .55¢. Blueberry pie was.53¢ instead of .69¢. And Vienna bread was .19¢ a loaf instead of the regular .25¢.

Here's one of the few convenience food items listed: 2 1-pound packs of Sea Seald Fish 'n' Chips would cost you .89¢ on sale from .98¢.

Bananas were .29¢ for 2 pounds; Ontario Delicious (gag, shudder) apples were .39¢ for a 3 pound bag. Florida oranges were .59¢ for a 5 pound bag. All other fruit was frozen or tinned - there was plenty of tinned.

Texas spinach was .19¢ for a 10 ounce bag. It was the only fresh green vegetable mentioned in the ads I saw; everything else was tinned or frozen.

Most meats were in the range of .39¢ to .59¢ per pound, including imported lamb. Bacon was .59¢ per pound. Corned beef brisket was expensive, at .79¢ per pound.

Many of the specials, then as now, were brand name items. However, most of it was in tins or bottles, with a few frozen items and baked goods. Apart from that, there were none of what we would now consider convenience foods. I miss those days for that. It seems like nowadays practically the only things that go on sale are over-priced, over-advertised, over-processed brand name products that I would never buy anyway.

To compare these prices to modern ones, albeit fairly crudely, I suggest you just shift the decimal. That is, think of those meats as running from $3.90 to $5.90 per pound. That would make bread $1.90 for a loaf, and that blueberry pie $5.30. Hmm, these prices still seem a little low. This would have been correct just a few years ago, but inflation does march on. Still, using this method, I can see that bananas and apples are cheaper now than they used to be, relatively speaking, and oranges are much cheaper. Vegetables in general are also cheaper now - broccoli occasionally hits the $2.90 mark, but rarely. And $7.80 for a pound of asparagus! $2.30 is about right for winter celery, but $2.00 for a head of lettuce? Well, maybe, I suppose. Potatoes at $3.90 for a 10 pound bag seem fairly dear. No doubt they have come down in price as they have ceased to be such a universal staple.

Actually, when I think about it, I think prices when I was a teenager where probably more in the "shift the decimal" range. This was over ten years earlier, so these prices would have represented an even bigger chunk out of peoples' budgets. Food really is a lot cheaper than it used to be. Which sounds like it should be good news, but it's had some dismaying side-effects as well. But that's a whole 'nother post...

A few years back, we were renovating some townhouses. In one of them, when we removed the baseboards to allow for re-wiring, we discovered that a large number of newspaper sheets had been pushed underneath, presumably to stop the drafts. They were dated February, 1962. Must have been a cold and windy one!

One of the pages was from the Wednesday food section of the Toronto Telegram. I took some notes from it, although the paper itself was too brittle to be worth keeping. I thought I would share some of the tidbits from that date...

Louise Moore had an article which included the following menus for a week:


Well. Wow. Times have changed... mostly for the better it has to be said. Let me comment, one day at a time:

Sunday:

As far as I can tell from Googling, sweet pickled shoulder of pork would be a kind of brined but uncured ham. The shoulder is fattier and cheaper than the hind leg; presumably this is being suggested with an eye towards keeping to a budget.

Also, I remember those bloody 1960's winter tomatoes. Three little pinkish tennis balls in a plastic coffin covered in cellophane, generally imported from Florida. Mum would insist on buying them; I really don't know why. They were spectacularly horrible. Slop that dressing on, folks.

Monday:

What the hell - was Monday "pick on picky eaters day"? I would totally eat that menu, and enjoy it too, but really, what was she thinking? Liver, lima beans and rice pudding? Of course, it was considered good nutritional form to serve liver once a week at this time. I think there's an element of let's-get-this-over-with to this menu.

Tuesday:

Why look, it's leftovers. Cold leftovers even. Of course, any self-respecting home economist of this era must emphasize the thrifty use of time and money by planning for several meals at once. All I can say is I hope this pork shoulder was boneless, because she hasn't made any plans for soup. Somewhat token effort here. I give her a C-. But presumably that pineapple cake will will make people feel happier about it all. (It would me, I admit.)

Wednesday:

Not much to say about this, except to note that there are potatoes again, and not for the last time this week. My sweetie and I have a joke about the food of this era: it was meat and two veg; one of which was guaranteed to be potatoes, and the other one of which was not guaranteed not to be potatoes. Yep. But let's give Ms Moore some credit: she's kept it down to 4 meals out of the 7, unless there's potatoes in the Tuna Casserole.

Thursday:

I'd say things are running half-local, half imported on the vegetable front; not bad for the middle of February. The meat is pretty much all local except for the tuna. Yesterdays green beans almost certainly came out of a tin, but the broccoli is probably freshish from California. Raw vegetable fingers is pretty vague. I'm assuming celery and carrots, woo-hoo. And maybe a radish or so. Again, half local and half imported. (No local celery in February, more's the pity.)

Friday:

Fish, natch. Of sorts anyway. Nothing too actually fishy. It wasn't just for Catholics; or at any rate any public or semi-public meal would include fish on Friday and lots of people were happy to partake just to get a change from everlasting beef and pork.

There's a fifty-fifty chance, I imagine, that the housewife who followed this menu used frozen peas over tinned ones. In spite of the tomato thing, Mum was reasonably discriminating about food, so I got served frozen veg much more often than tinned (in the winter) when I was growing up, even though I'm pretty sure the tinned were noticably cheaper. Not everyone would have had a fridge with a freezer compartment, and if it did have one, it would have been one of those tiny little aluminum boxes that required frequent and regular defrosting.

FRESH RHUBARB PIE! This is a thrill. (It's a thrill I've already had this year, and look for more coming up too.) Forced rhubarb was pretty widely available in February. It would have been leaped upon as the first sign of the new growing season, and would have great, zingy appeal after a few months of stored vegetables eked out with expensive imports. You can still find a bit nowadays, if you hunt, but it's not the seasonal staple it used to be.

Saturday:

Saturday, on the other hand, loses that spring-is-coming feeling, and goes back to good, filling winter stodge. Realistically, it must be admitted.

Overall:

From the time home economics was invented around the turn of the previous century, papers and magazines ran sample menus all the time. Presumably the thought was that mere housewives couldn't be trusted to figure out what to eat themselves, or at least not to come up with menus that combined economy and nutrition (according to the lights of the day). Really though, I don't think I know anyone who actually paid any attention to these menus, even though they do give a pretty good general idea of what many people were eating back then. Both my parents had been brought up on the meat and two veg one-of-which-was guaranteed-to-be-potatoes principle, and were not much inclined to serve them all that often. I got a lot more rice and pasta than I did potatoes, with the result that I now regard potatoes as a bit of a treat. But I think that was unusual.

It's noticeable that there was no chicken or any other poultry in this menu, which is now eaten a lot more than beef or pork, I would think.

I also sure didn't get dessert every day, never mind three pies in one week! Actually, I notice this series of menus is artfully poised between the make-everything-from-scratch era, and the convenience food era. Baked goods were the first foods to become regularly bought ready-made instead of being made at home. This menu includes lots of things that could be made at home by the budget-conscious, or purchased if preferred: cookies, biscuits - the cake would probably be home-made since it's an easy recipe and I've rarely seen it for sale - rolls, and of course those three pies. You could buy your Swiss steak ready beaten and formed, instead of having to do it yourself, and maybe even the hamburger patties if you were really decadent.

The one thing that does get a sigh of nostalgia out of me is the apple whip. Mum used to make prune whip with custard once in while and I loved that stuff. I'll have to see if I can make some apple whip.

Tomorrow: A look at the ads, and a "Market Report".

This is so much my favourite thing to do with ground lamb that I hardly ever do anything else with it, and since we buy an entire lamb each year, we do get a fair amount. I would totally cook these on a grill outside if I had one, which I don't, and if it wasn't February, which it is. Nevermind. Still delicious.

8 patties or 36 meatballs - 4 servings
20 minutes - 10 minutes prep time

1 cup fine fresh breadcrumbs
2 cloves of garlic
3 to 4 tablespoons minced parsley
1 to 2 tablespoons minced fresh mint
OR 1 teaspoon dried mint
450 grams (1 pound) lean ground lamb
1 extra-large egg
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon black peppercorns, crushed
1/2 teaspoon allspice berries, crushed
1 teaspoon cumin seed, crushed
1 tablespoon olive oil

You will need the food processor for this one. Start by making crumbs by breaking up 2 stale but not totally dried out slices of bread into the bowl of the food processor, and process to crumbs.

Add the garlic, mint (if fresh) and parsley, and process until fairly well chopped.

Add the remaining ingredients, except for the oil, and process until everything is well blended.

Roll the mixture into small meatballs. I use my melonballer for this. Alternatively, you can form them into 8 equal finger-shaped patties. This is a traditional shape because they would have been formed around skewers and cooked over a grill. It's a good idea if you can do it; otherwise heat the oil in a large skillet and cook the meatballs or patties until cooked through and evenly browned. Stir or turn them as needed. Remove them with a slotted spoon to drain.

Sauerkraut is a very versatile ingredient, being good hot or cold, plain or mixed with other ingredients be they meat or vegetable. And of course, there's always sticking your head into the fridge and forking it directly from the jar into your mouth. Yum.

I was lucky to be given a nice large jar of homemade sauerkraut this year, since I didn't make any. I hope to make some next fall; it's on my to-do list. If you are not so lucky and must buy sauerkraut, be sure to buy it either sealed in a plastic bag or in a glass jar. Don't get it in a tin (which I don't believe will be local anyway) unless you are particularly fond of the taste of metal.

You may or may not wish to rinse and drain the sauerkraut before you use it. It will depend on how briney it is; taste a little and see what you think before you start.

4 servings
15 minutes prep time for any one


Kraut & Sprout Salad:
1/2 cup sauerkraut
1/4 cup mung bean sprouts
1/4 cup broccoli sprouts
1/4 cup alfalfa sprouts

Raspberry Apple-Butter Vinaigrette
1 tablespoon apple butter
1 teaspoon Dijon mustard
2 tablespoons hazelnut, almond or walnut oil
3 tablespoons raspberry vinegar
salt & pepper to taste

Mix the sauerkraut and sprouts together, and toss gently in a little of the vinaigrette. I find it easiest to do it with a fork, gently teasing the sprouts apart. They do want to clump, especially the broccoli sprouts. Actually, before I use the broccoli sprouts I trim off the roots, which are a disconcerting shade of grey and tend to form a fairly impenetrable mass. The salad dressing is more than you will need, but it will keep well for a few days in the fridge and is a great dressing whenever you want a touch of fruity sweetness in a salad. Apply it with a light touch or the sprouts will be overwhelmed.


Apple & Cabbage Sauerkraut Salad:
1 leaf red cabbage
2 leaves green cabbage
1 large apple
1 cup sauerkraut
2 teaspoons sugar
1 tablespoon apple cider vinegar
1 tablespoon sunflower seed oil

Wash the cabbage leaves and shred them finely. Wash and grate the apple, including the skin. Mix the cabbages, apple and sauerkraut. Sprinkle over the sugar, vinegar and oil, and toss gently.


Sauerkraut, Carrot & Parsley Salad
1 large carrot
1 cup sauerkraut
1/4 cup minced parsley
2 tablespoons sauerkraut or pickle brine
1/8 teaspoon celery seed, ground
2 tablespoons sunflower seed oil
2 tablespoons sunflower seeds

Peel and grate the carrot. Mince the parsley. Mix the carrot, sauerkraut and parsley and toss with the brine, celery seed and oil. Serve with the sunflower seeds sprinkled over the top.

Here's a light and lovely springtime treat. Too bad we have had freezing rain all day and the parking lot is like a skating rink. Oh well, I will just have to close my eyes and dream.

6 to 8 servings
1 hour - 30 minutes prep time

Pies always look lovely before you actually cut them, don't they? After that it's touch-and-go. The filling here is a bit inclined to ooze, but better that than too thick and gummy. But it doesn't make it particularly photogenic.


single pie crust for 9" pie pan

4 cups finely chopped rhubarb
1 cup sugar
1/2 teaspoon grated nutmeg
1/4 cup water
pinch of salt

1/3 cup flour
1/3 cup water
3 extra-large egg yolks

3 extra-large egg whites
1/4 teaspoon cream of tartar
6 tablespoons sugar

Prepare the pie crust, roll it out and fit it to your pie plate, and prick it all over with a fork. Bake it at 400°F for 10 minutes, until very lightly browned. Reduce the heat to 350°F.

Meanwhile, trim the rhubarb and chop it finely. Put it in a large pot with the sugar, the nutmeg, the 1/4 cup of water and salt. Bring to a boil, then simmer, stirring frequently, until it is tender and starts to disintegrate.

Mix the flour and remaining water to a smooth paste in a bowl, then beat in the egg yolks. Remove the pan of rhubarb from the stove, and begin mixing small amounts of rhubarb into the egg yolk mixture. When it is about half rhubarb, begin stirring the egg mixture back into the pot of rhubarb, a spoonful at a time. When it is all in, return the pot to the stove and continue cooking it over medium-low heat, until thickened. This will take seconds rather than minutes - don't overdo it.

Allow both the pie crust and the filling to cool somewhat. However, while they are both still warm, spread the filling into the pie crust.

Beat the egg whites with the cream of tartar and sugar until very stiff. Spread the meringue over the pie. Bake the pie at 350°F for 10 to 12 minutes, until the meringue is golden brown. Let cool completely before serving.

Sometimes simple things are the best. Here's a little bit of last summers' sunshine that's been waiting in the freezer for me.

1 to 4 servings; it depends, eh? Are you willing to share?
5 minutes prep time

2 cups frozen blueberries
2 cups canned pears in light syrup; about half and half pear to syrup

Put the blueberries and pears in syrup in a blender. Blend thoroughly. Add a little water to thin if necessary. Taste and adjust the proportions if you like. Pour into nice glasses and serve with a straw.

You can substitute pear nectar for the canned pears if you like. It's sad but true; both of these are now likely to be imported. Why? I guess I will start canning some pear nectar myself next fall.

Let me be frank: lamb ribs are kind of a pain. You will note that I am calling for 4 pounds of ribs to make 4 servings. That's because the ribs are at least two-thirds fat and bone. However, you buy a lamb; you get lamb ribs. That's just how it goes.

I've tried a number of things with them, but once I came up with this recipe, it's pretty much what I've done with them ever since. I tried a number of barbecue sauce type experiments first, and the results of those can be summed up in one word: don't. Lamb and barbecue sauce just don't go together. Curry though, curry is classic. And with good reason. I like this better made with yogurt, but I made it with tomatoes because thanks to the grip on this household by the evil viruses of doom, I have not been shopping and no yogurt could be found lurking in the fridge.

If you don't have lamb ribs, you can use stewing lamb. I would use 2 pounds if it has the bones in, 1 pound if boneless. No need to cook it in advance. Just brown it with the onions, and use water instead of broth.

4 servings
1 hour 15 minutes - 30 minutes prep time; but start the day before.

Spice Mix:
1 tablespoon fennel seed
2 teaspoons cumin seed
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon ground cloves
1 teaspoon curry powder
1 teaspoon salt
4 teaspoons sweet Hungarian paprika
1/4 teaspoon cayenne pepper

Curry:
4 pounds lamb ribs
2 large onions
2 tablespoons vegetable oil
3 tablespoons grated fresh ginger
2 cups lamb broth
2 cups (450 ml) yogurt or crushed tomatoes

Put the lamb ribs in a pot with about 3 cups of water. Cover and bring to a boil. Simmer until tender, about 30 minutes to an hour. Refrigerate overnight.

The next day, remove the fat from the broth, and as much fat as possible from each strip of ribs. Cut the strips of ribs into individual pieces. Discard the fat.

Mix the spices and set them aside.

Sauté the onions in the oil over low heat, in a very large skillet, until soft and cooked down quite a bit. Add the rib pieces, turn up the heat, and heat through. Add the grated ginger and the mixed spices. When well mixed in, add the lamb broth (from cooking the ribs) and the yogurt or tomatoes. Reduce the heat to a simmer and simmer for about 45 minutes, stirring frequently to avoid sticking, until the sauce is thick and coats the meat, and the meat is starting to fall off the bones.