

Lamb, tomato and olives — the Mediterranean had this figured out centuries ago
All around the Mediterranean, the cheap bone-in cuts of lamb end up in pots like this one, and there's a reason the tradition never died. As the forequarter chops braise, their fat melts into the tomato and turns an ordinary tin into a sauce with real depth — rich, glossy, and salted through with Kalamata olives. It's an unhurried sort of cooking: fifteen minutes of honest work at the stove, then the pot minds itself while you don't. Serve it over soft polenta or just hand around bread and let everyone mop.
Season the chops well. Heat the oil in a deep frying pan or casserole over medium-high heat and brown them for about 3 minutes each side; set aside.
4 forequarter chops2 tbsp olive oilLower the heat to medium and cook the onion for 5 minutes until soft, then add the garlic, oregano and chilli flakes for 1 minute more.
1 onion3 cloves garlic1 tsp dried oreganoPour in the wine and let it bubble for a minute or two while you scrape the browned bits off the bottom.
125ml white wineAdd the tomatoes and stock, return the chops and their juices, and settle them into the sauce. Cover and simmer on the lowest heat for 1 hour 15 minutes, turning the chops once.
400g tin tomatoes250ml chicken stockAdd the olives and simmer uncovered for 20 to 25 minutes more, until the meat is nearly falling off the bone and the sauce has thickened to a rich, spoonable gloss.
90g Kalamata olivesScatter over the lemon zest and parsley and serve the chops over soft polenta, or with crusty bread and no shame about mopping.
lemon zestchopped parsleyBraising is a trade agreement: the pot gives the meat moisture and time, and the meat pays the sauce back in fat and gelatine. The forequarter chop is the richest payer in the lamb share — cut from the shoulder, it carries the fat and connective tissue that leaner chops lack, and over ninety-odd minutes all of it melts into the tomato. That's why the sauce from this pot tastes nothing like a tin of tomatoes simmered on its own. Don't skip the hard sear at the start, either; those browned edges are flavour you can't add later. Your Farmer® chops are grass-fed and pasture-raised, which shows up here as a cleaner, sweeter fat — the kind you want dissolving into your dinner. You can read about how we farm to see where that difference starts.
A couple of anchovy fillets melted in with the garlic add a savoury floor that nobody will pick but everybody will notice. A drained tin of white beans in the last 20 minutes makes it a full one-pot meal. Rosemary can stand in for oregano; green Sicilian olives for the Kalamatas. A strip of orange zest dropped in with the stock is an old Provencal touch that suits lamb particularly well. And when you want the grander, longer version of this same idea, lamb shanks take the identical sauce with an extra hour of simmering and a bit more ceremony.
This braise is better the next day, once the olives have had a night to season the sauce. It keeps in the fridge for 3 to 4 days and freezes for up to 3 months; reheat gently on the stove. The leftover move: pull the meat from the bones, shred it back through the sauce, and you have a ready-made ragu for rigatoni or pappardelle — arguably better than the original dinner, though we'll deny saying so.
Forequarter chops come standard in our grass-fed beef and lamb meat boxes — this is the pot that turns the humblest pack in the box into the dinner people ask about.
Three Simple Steps
Your Farmers grow grass-fed beef and lamb, pastured eggs and the best eco-grown veggies and produce — every item grown to the same ecological standard, every farmer one you can know by name. One subscription, your whole real-food shop.
Subscribe to a share of the harvest, or start with a one-off fixed pack.
Pick your delivery rhythm and what's in the box. Skip or cancel anytime — no lock-in.
We deliver in a reusable esky we collect next time. No couriers, no waste.
Grass-Fed Mince, Sausage and Diced Beef Pack
Grass-Fed Beef and Lamb BBQ Box
Pastured Lamb Roast and Slow-Cook Box
Sirloin with Green Peppercorn Sauce
The steak-restaurant order you can make in one pan
There's a reason the green peppercorn sauce has never left the steak-restaurant menu: it's magnificent, and it takes about ten minutes. The little peppercorns come in a jar of brine, sitting near the capers at the supermarket, and they bring a gentle heat that cream rounds off beautifully. You'll sear the sirloin in a heavy pan, rest it, and build the whole sauce on the browned bits left behind. Two steaks, one pan, and a dinner that feels like a night out.
Warm Eye Fillet and Roast Pumpkin Salad
Two small steaks, three full plates
Here's a quiet bit of kitchen maths. Two 140g medallions doesn't sound like dinner for three — until you roast a tray of pumpkin, sear the fillet medium-rare, rest it properly and slice it thin across the grain. Suddenly every plate gets sweet golden pumpkin, creamy feta, toasted pepitas and a generous fan of the tenderest beef there is. It's the kind of dinner that feels abundant without being heavy, and it makes the smallest pack in the share go further than you'd believe.
Sirloin with Bordelaise-Style Red Wine and Shallot Sauce
Occasion cooking from a bottle of red and a bit of patience
This is occasion cooking, but be clear about what that means: the sauce is red wine, eschalots and stock reduced patiently in a small saucepan, finished with cold butter until it turns glossy. Half an hour, most of it unattended. Meanwhile the sirloin gets a proper sear and a proper rest, and the two meet on a warm plate over mash. It's the kind of dinner restaurants charge dearly for, made from one steak and the open half of a bottle you were drinking anyway.
Read moreabout Sirloin with Bordelaise-Style Red Wine and Shallot Sauce
We'll check we deliver to your area.
Share:
Barbecued Lamb Cutlets with Lemon and Oregano
Beef Bourguignon with Grass-Fed Diced Beef