“Umami” is a wonderful, mystery-shrouded word that roughly translates as “delicious savoury taste”. Now recognised as the fifth flavour, alongside salt, sweet, bitter and sour, Umami’s entrance into our culinary consciousness has been curious and treacherous.

The story begins at the turn of the 20th century, when a bowl of dashi soup inspired Japanese chemist, Kikuane Ikeda, to understand why its complex, savoury flavour was just so delicious. After months of painstaking work analysing the principal ingredient of dashi (a seaweed), Ikeda discovered the existence of glutamates, a type of amino acid.

From here the story of umami takes a darker turn as Ikeda then invented perhaps one of the most globally vilified products, Monosodium Glutamate (MSG), as an umami additive for food. Indeed, the company he founded to manufacture MSG remains the largest producer in the world today. Thus Ikeda’s quest for knowledge and thirst for flavour has made umami responsible for our inability to stop ourselves from gorging on terrible takeaways.

After Ikeda’s discovery in 1908, it took almost 100 years for umami to gain scientific credentials. Although declared as the fifth flavour by the Umami International Symposium in 1985, specific umami taste receptors weren’t discovered until the year 2000. Breast milk is very high in amino acids and it is believed that the human love of umami stems from this early exposure.

What does Umami taste like?

To be honest this is a difficult question to answer. Unlike its more obvious flavour counterparts, there isn’t an ingredient which singularly tastes of “umami”. If you want to taste salt, eat salt, for sweet try sugar, for bitter have some grapefruit and for sour, go suck a lemon. Short of dabbing MSG directly onto your tongue (I wouldn’t) there isn’t one ingredient that typifies umami.

While many different kinds of food contain umami, umami itself abides by that moreish, rich, savoury loveliness, by that almost tangible texture that coats the tongue and delights the mouth. Foods that are fermented or aged are a good place to start. Parmesan, miso, soy sauce, anchovies, cured meats, seaweed, mushrooms, tomatoes, broths, gravies and fish sauce are all high in umami.

The un-specificity of umami coupled with this week’s theme for Mercurius (the fifth element) piqued my and Matt’s interest. Today’s menu is therefore a deep dive into the world of Umami: a hunt for that elusive flavour in three key sources: anchovies, parmesan and miso. Yes I admit, this sounds like an odd combination, but they all sat very well together.

Barbecued leg of lamb in a lavender, honey, rosemary and anchovy marinade served with grilled honey miso aubergines and charred asparagus with a parmesan vinaigrette

Barbecue prep:

Our plan is to emulate an oven in terms of set-up. There are already a lot of strong flavours to balance on our menu so we won’t add any wood chips. Smoking would be a step too far. Once you’ve lit the coals, split them in half and push them to each side of the grill, leaving space for a large water tray in the middle. We are using some lovely local briquettes and our Weber Master Touch came with coal baskets in order to make the division process much easier (but you can do this without them). Heat-wise aim for 200˚C.

*Pushing coals to each side of the grill creates an indirect cooking effect similar to an oven*

Preparing the Lamb:

First butterfly the lamb leg (or ask the butcher to do this for you). Butterflying is important as it will enable the meat to cook evenly on the barbecue plus it will dramatically reduce the cooking time. Anything in the name of juiciness.

The key to this dish is the marinade. This particular marinade is a twist on Matt’s mother’s speciality: lavender is her absolute favourite lamb pairing. Lamb is also her favourite meat. Given that she and Matt’s dad were our umami guinea pigs for our first socially-distanced al fresco dinner party, who were we to deviate?

In a blender add:

4 garlic cloves
5 sprigs of lavender (leaves and flowers, jettison the stalks)
5 sprigs of rosemary (stalks removed)
3 table spoons of runny honey
Small tin of anchovies in oil
Salt & pepper

Blend everything until it forms a nice paste, then rub all over the lamb, cover and leave in the fridge overnight.

Cooking the lamb:

The water pan in the barbecue will become the gravy for this dish. Pour 500ml lamb stock, a glass of wine and a splash of extra water into the water pan and then place it between your two piles of coals in the middle of the barbecue.

Remove the lamb from the fridge about 30 minutes before cooking and insert a temperature probe, if using (read our last article to find out more about thermometers). Once the barbecue is at a stable temperature (about 200˚C), place the lamb on the grill over the water pan. Remove when the internal temperature reaches 58˚C and rest until it reaches 60˚C. It should take about an hour to cook.

Remove the gravy pan from the barbecue and pour into a small pan on the hob. Add:

Extra wine (to taste)
Redcurrant jelly (to taste – about 1 tablespoon)
Cornflour paste to thicken (NB: in order to add cornflour to gravy and avoid lumps you should mix the cornflour with a little cold water to form a paste then add the paste to the gravy)
Salt and pepper
Pour in any meat juices that have collected whilst resting

For the aubergines:

In a bowl add:

2 tablespoons of Shiro Miso paste (or any miso paste I just had Shiro Miso in the fridge)
1 tablespoon of runny honey
2 tablespoons of mirin
1 teaspoon of sesame oil
A splash of hot water

Mix until you get a nice smooth glaze consistency then set aside. Cut your aubergines in half lengthways and then score the flesh in a diamond pattern. Brush about half of the glaze onto the cut side of the aubergine making sure that the glaze penetrates the score marks. Leave to marinate for an hour or so before cooking.

Whilst the lamb is resting pop the aubergines onto the grill over the coals skin-side-down. Leave for 10 minutes then baste with the extra glaze. When you think they have almost cooked through, carefully turn them over and leave for another 5 minutes. Garnish how you like, I used some finely sliced spring onions and chopped hazelnuts.

For the asparagus with parmesan vinaigrette:

I have to admit I was a little put out when designing this dish. Mainly because I thought that I had invented parmesan vinaigrette. A quick trip on the internet was enough to reveal that I hadn’t but, I suppose, at least I found validation. Everyone has their own way of making vinaigrette, I like a little sweetness in mine. It is all about balance. For this vinaigrette I used: olive oil, white wine vinegar, Dijon mustard, salt and pepper, lemon juice, crushed garlic and a pinch of sugar. Then I stirred in some grated parmesan to taste.

Snap off the woody ends of the asparagus and then place on the grill over the coals. Remove when nicely charred and drizzle over some of the vinaigrette whilst the asparagus is still warm. Serve the remaining vinaigrette on the table, there will be takers for extra!

*Our first dinner party since lockdown began!*

The fifth flavour: The hunt for umami