A Springtime Rite Worth A Year's Wait
by R.W. Apple Jr., New York Times

Among golfers, this town of 10,000 about an hour's drive east of Pittsburgh is known for Arnold Palmer, who was born here. Among beer drinkers, it is known for Rolling Rock, the malty lager in the long-neck green bottles, which is brewed here. Among serious sundae scholars, all three of them, it is known as the birthplace of the banana split

Like his father, John Jamison used to make his living selling what lies beneath the gently rolling foothills of the Allegheny Mountains here in Westmoreland County: bituminous coal. Now, he and his wife, Sukey, make their living from the bluegrass that covers the hillsides of their 210-acre farm. Their sheep and lambs, 300 to 500 at any one time, are raised almost entirely on that grass, instead of the grain used by big feedlots.

Lamb is a great favorite in Europe. Springtime abbacchio is beloved of Romans; Romney Marsh lamb and agneau pre-sale come from animals raised near the English Channel in England and France; Sisteron lamb is raised in Provence, and those blessed with palates more exquisite than mine detect hints of wild thyme and rosemary in it; Pauillac lamb makes a perfect foil for the great Pauillac wines like Chateau Latour.

But it is no big deal in the United States. The average American eats only a pound of lamb a year, according to the American Sheep Industry Association in Englewood, Colo., compared with 66 pounds of beef.

Most of the year, American lamb goes mainly to chefs and to home cooks with roots in Greece, Ireland and other countries that eat a lot of lamb. The exception is the Easter season. An ancient symbol of rebirth, the sacrifice of a lamb is a springtime Christian ritual shared with other religions, including Judaism and Islam. In a modified form, it has survived into this secular age.

My wife, Betsey, grew up in a house where lamb chops were a weekly staple (with mint jelly, of course), and to this day she orders them instead of beef at steakhouses. I would never pass up a New York sirloin.

But we find common ground on the Easter menu: always a leg of lamb, roasted rare with garlic and rosemary, carved into long, thin slices in the French style and served with a bubbling potato gratin. Plus local asparagus, if the spring is warm enough or if Easter falls late enough.

Befores and afters are subject to arbitration.

At our house, at least, the Easter feast has four virtues: 1) It tastes gloriously fresh, rich and herby. 2) Like tulips and income-tax forms and daylight saving time, it reassures us that we have all made it through another winter. 3) It all but demands the grandest, dustiest bottle of claret in the cellar. And 4) It gives the old man a chance to show off his nifty manche a gigot, an antique French gadget that looks like a medieval torture instrument; a gift from my chum, Morley Safer, another lamb lover, it clamps on to the protruding shank bone and makes carving a cinch.

THE Jamisons' is no mom-and-pop operation. They slaughter between 4,000 and 5,000 animals a year, which means, at an average weight of about 40 pounds a head, that they are producing 80 to 100 tons of lamb a year -- a far cry from their halting beginnings in 1976. They started with six sheep in the lyrically named township of Pleasant Unity, Pa., not far from here, hoping to sell the wool. That didn't work, so they switched from wool to meat and moved in 1985, with a flock grown to 200 sheep, to their present home, a modest white frame building that dates from the early 1870's.

Mr. Jamison, a burly, cheery 53-year-old, and Mrs. Jamison, fit and lanky at 51, met in high school and attended Washington and Jefferson College in Washington, Pa., together. They migrated gradually to the countryside, opting for full-time farm life when the coal trade turned sour. They picked up much of what they know about lamb from county extension agents and their children's 4-H Club friends.

''We didn't know which end of the animal we were supposed to feed,'' Mr. Jamison confided over a hearty kitchen-table lunch of braised lamb shanks, claret and Mrs. Jamison's home-baked bread and brownies.

It was much worse than that, countered Mrs. Jamison: ''We didn't know anything about anything.''

Early on, Mr. Jamison discovered the writings of Louis Bromfield. A novelist who lived in France between the world wars, he returned to Mansfield, Ohio, where he was born, to turn a worn-out tract of land into Malabar Farm, a showplace that was nationally known in the 1940's. Bromfield described grass as ''the great healer,'' and Mr. Jamison adopted him as a hero.

Eventually, the Jamisons heard about a method of rearing lambs that had been developed in France by a scientist named Andre Voisin. Called ''intensive rotational grazing,'' it is an agricultural perpetual motion machine that makes grazing economically and environmentally viable. It is also one of the major things that sets Jamison lamb apart.

The Jamisons buy 8- to 12-week-old lambs from local farmers (they are rebuilding their flock of ewes, but even with 600 ewes, they would produce only 900 lambs a year, not enough for their needs). The lambs are a cross between English breeds, Suffolks and black-faced Hampshires, raised for their meat, and smaller, white-faced Dorsets, well adapted to the grass here.

For roughly nine months a year, the Jamisons' animals eat nothing but grass. They are moved every day or two, with the help of Border collies, from one enclosure to another. When they go into a paddock or pasture, the grass there is four to eight inches tall; when they leave, Mr. Jamison said, pointing to the tile floor in the kitchen, ''it's like that.''

''Do they all eat all day long?'' Betsey wanted to know.

''That's what they do for a living,'' Mr. Jamison said. ''We raise grass. The lambs harvest it.''

The genius of the system is this: in nibbling the grass down to a nub, the sheep expose the white clover underneath. A legume, the clover helps to build up the nitrogen level in the soil, greatly enriching it. That, plus sheep droppings, makes the grass grow back, and after three weeks or so, the cycle can begin again. (As long ago as the farm depression of the early 1920's, I learned from ''American Dreamer,'' a new biography of the farm editor and politician Henry A. Wallace, he was urging Iowa farmers to plant crops of clover.)

Only in deepest winter are the lambs hand-fed, mostly with hay and corn raised without chemicals. Jamison Farm itself uses no herbicides or pesticides, and the animals get no hormones or antibiotics.

Slaughtered when three to six months old, later than European milk-fed lambs but much earlier than many American lambs, which are sometimes almost a year old, the Jamison animals yield meat that looks faintly pink, more like veal than most lamb. Because the animals move around so much, their muscles are better toned, like an athlete's, which makes the meat lean but not the slightest bit chewy, at least in the samples that we tasted.

Six years ago, to make sure that their lambs were killed properly and the carcasses chilled slowly, to avoid toughening them, the Jamisons bought their own processing plant on the other side of Latrobe. A crew of three runs it. But Mr. Jamison, who looks every bit the gentleman farmer in his brown suede shoes and bib overalls, puts on a rubber apron and pitches in on the messy jobs of bleeding and skinning the animals when needed.

THE Jamisons' big break came almost by chance, when the French-born chef Jean-Louis Palladin, then in Washington, tasted their lamb in 1987. His palate pleased, he eventually spread the word to French colleagues also based in the United States, including Jean-Georges Vongerichten and Daniel Boulud in New York. From there, it was mostly easy going; recently I spotted Jamison lamb on the menu at Tru, Chicago's hot new restaurant, and restaurants at Disney World and in Las Vegas are among the best customers.

Other high-quality lamb is produced in Sonoma County, Calif., in Colorado and in Virginia, where Jamie Nicoll of Summerfield Farm, near Culpeper, produces both premium lamb and veal. Bruce Aidells, author of ''The Complete Meat Cookbook'' (Houghton Mifflin, 1998), said he considered the Jamisons and Mr. Nicoll the top American producers. Among imports, he praised Australian lamb brought in fresh by Superior Farms of Dixon, Calif., which also sells American lamb, in preference to frozen New Zealand lamb.

But none of their competitors have gained quite the following among chefs the Jamisons have.

That may be because of the mild flavor and smell of Jamison lamb. Many Americans find the aroma of roasting lamb unattractive, often because it is too fatty or has been cooked too long, or both, and describe the taste as oily or greasy, which Mr. Jamison attributes to corn feeding.

Two-thirds of the Jamisons' production goes to restaurants. The rest is sold directly to the public, by way of a toll-free telephone number (800-237-5262), a fax number (724-837-2287) or the Internet (www.jamisonfarm.com). It isn't cheap. Two racks cost $88, two legs $78, a dozen loin chops $78. But a whole lamb, cut to order, is a better deal at $205. Most of the items can be ordered either fresh or frozen.

In addition to doing much of the work with the lambs in the pastures and paddocks, Mrs. Jamison is a talented cook whose farmhouse kitchen shelters a huge South Bend stove, and she has developed a range of prepared lamb dishes, some in cooperation with Mr. Palladin. They include stews, soups, sausages and absolutely delectable lamb pies, which are also for sale.

By now the Jamisons are steeped in lamb lore. For decades I have used the word ''bellwether'' in political stories to describe a precinct or county that tends to vote the same way as a larger entity, like a city or state. I had no clue where the word came from. Mr. Jamison told me. A ''wether'' is a castrated ram, he explained, and a ''bellwether'' is a wether wearing a bell, which leads the flock.

The two are also full of stories, some funny, that illustrate how wide the knowledge gap between producers and consumers of foodstuffs has become in the modern world. A California woman asked Mr. Jamison on the phone, he said, what the difference was between veal and lamb; she seemed unsatisfied when he replied, ''Well, one of them goes 'moo' and the other 'baa.' '' Another potential customer, a tender heart, wanted to know whether she could get lamb chops without causing a lamb to lose its life.

On the wall of the Jamisons' kitchen hangs a picture of the two of them with the actress Jodie Foster. We spotted it on the way out, and Mrs. Jamison told us with a hint of self-mockery, ''We supplied the lambs for 'The Silence of the Lambs.' ''

MALAYSIAN LAMB CHOPS WITH CAULIFLOWER PUREE AND SWISS CHARD

Adapted from Tru, Chicago
Time: 1 hour 15 minutes, plus 3 hours' marinating

For the marinade:
5 tablespoons oyster sauce
2 tablespoons soy sauce
3 tablespoons rice wine vinegar
3 tablespoons sesame oil
1/2 cup light olive oil
1 tablespoon Asian chili sauce
1 tablespoon fish sauce
8 Jamison Farm lamb loin chops
For the vegetables:
1 medium head cauliflower, cut into florets
10 tablespoons butter, cubed
1/2 cup heavy cream
Salt and freshly ground white pepper
1 bunch red or green Swiss chard, washed and dried
For the crumb coating:
3/4 cup Dijon mustard
1/4 pound brioche
1 stalk lemon grass, in 1-inch pieces
3 kaffir lime leaves (available at Asian markets)
4 cloves garlic, peeled
1 tablespoon chopped fresh ginger
1 teaspoon chopped cilantro
1 tablespoon chopped mint
1 tablespoon paprika
1 teaspoon turmeric.

1. Prepare marinade: In a large bowl, combine all ingredients for marinade except lamb chops. Add chops and coat well. Cover and refrigerate three to eight hours. Allow chops to come to room temperature.

2. Prepare cauliflower puree: In a medium saucepan, combine cauliflower florets and 6 tablespoons butter. Cover and place over low heat. Steam until cauliflower is tender, about 15 minutes. Heat cream until hot but not boiling, and add to cauliflower. Using an immersion blender or food processor, puree cauliflower mixture until very smooth. Season with salt and pepper and keep warm.

3. Roughly chop Swiss chard, separating leaves from stems. Place a large saute pan over medium heat, and add remaining 4 tablespoons butter. When butter has melted, add chard stems. Saute until stems are tender, about 10 minutes. Add leaves, and saute until wilted, about 2 minutes. Remove from heat and keep warm.

4. Prepare chops: Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Place a large seasoned or nonstick skillet over medium-high heat. Remove chops from marinade, and pat dry with paper towels. Add chops to pan and sear well. Transfer to a large bowl. Add mustard, and turn chops until coated. In a food processor, process brioche to obtain 2 cups of fine crumbs. Transfer to a large bowl and set aside. In food processor, chop lemon grass pieces until minced. Add kaffir lime leaves, garlic and ginger, and mince. Add cilantro, mint, paprika and turmeric and mince. Transfer mixture to bowl of brioche crumbs, and blend well.

5. Pat a light coating of crumb mixture on chops (do not dredge chops or coating will be too thick) and place chops on a baking sheet. Roast according to taste, using an instant-read thermometer to test center of each chop: 140 degrees for medium-rare chops with a lightly browned crust.

6. To serve, divide Swiss chard among four plates. Top chard with two chops a plate. Add a portion of cauliflower to each plate. Serve immediately.

Yield: 4 servings.

MOROCCAN-SPICED LAMB BURGERS WITH PEPPER RELISH

Adapted from the White Dog Cafe, Philadelphia
Time: 25 minutes, plus preparation of grill

1 pound Jamison Farm ground lamb
2 tablespoons chopped fresh cilantro
2 tablespoons chopped fresh mint
2 tablespoons chopped fresh oregano
1 tablespoon chopped garlic
1 teaspoons sherry vinegar
1 teaspoon molasses
1 1/2 teaspoons ground cumin
1/4 teaspoon ground allspice
1/2 teaspoon hot red pepper flakes
1/2 teaspoon salt, or to taste
1/2 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
4 pita bread rounds
4 ounces feta cheese, crumbled
Pepper Relish (see recipe).

1. Prepare a charcoal or gas grill. (Burgers may also be sauteed in a skillet with a bit of oil.)

2. In a large bowl, combine lamb, cilantro, mint, oregano, garlic, vinegar, molasses, cumin, allspice, pepper flakes, salt and pepper. Mix well, and shape into four patties.

3. Lightly grill unsliced pita bread, and set aside. Grill burgers to taste, about 5 minutes a side for medium-rare. Place each burger to a side of a pita round, add a quarter of the cheese, and top with pepper relish to taste. Serve immediately, folding pita in half to encase burger.

Yield: 4 servings.

PEPPER RELISH

Time: 20 minutes

1 tablespoon extra virgin olive oil
1 red bell pepper, thinly sliced
1 yellow bell pepper, thinly sliced
1 small red onion, thinly sliced
1/4 cup red wine vinegar
1 teaspoon fennel seeds
1 teaspoon coriander seeds
1 tablespoon sugar
Pinch of salt.

1. In a medium enameled, glass or other nonreactive saucepan, combine all ingredients.

2. Cover saucepan and place over medium-low heat. Cook, stirring occasionally, until vegetables are soft, about 20 minutes. Serve warm, or cover and refrigerate for up to one week.

Yield: 2 cups.