Slow-Cooked Lamb Tagine

Published 19 June 2020

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Yield: 6

Slow-Cooked Lamb Tagine

4.6 Stars (14 Reviews)

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Slow-cooked lamb tagine is one of my favourite meals for cooler days or when I want to fill the house with something warm and fragrant. I braise lamb with spices like cinnamon, cumin, and coriander, along with dried fruit, tomatoes, and stock until it’s meltingly tender. The sauce turns rich and full of depth, perfect for serving with couscous or flatbread. It’s a dish that takes its time, but the result is comforting, bold, and always worth the wait.

Cook Time 3 hours

Total Time 3 hours

Ingredients

• 700g lamb, diced
• 1 tbsp olive oil
• 1 large onion, diced
• 3 celery sticks, diced
• 4 cloves garlic, minced
• 1 tbsp ginger, minced
• 1 tbsp cumin, ground
• 1 tbsp coriander, ground
• 1/2 tbsp cinnamon, ground
• 1 tsp sumac
• 2 tbsp tomato paste
• 2 tsp harissa paste
• 400g tin diced tomatoes
• 500ml lamb stock
• 1 tbsp honey
• 1/2 cup dried apricots, chopped
• 1/2 cup preserved lemon, chopped
• 1/2 cup large olives,
• 400g tin chickpeas, drained and rinsed
• Salt & pepper, to taste
• Chopped parsley, to serve

Instructions

1. Preheat oven to 150C.
2. In a large pot, heat the oil over medium-high heat and sear the lamb in batches until browned on all sides.
3. Reduce heat to medium and add onions and celery and cook 1-2 minutes or until just starting to soften.
4. Next, add the garlic and ginger, and cook 1-2 minutes until fragrant.
5. Stir through the cumin, coriander, cimmanon and sumac until the lamb is well coated in the spices.
6. Add the tomato paste and sumac, and cook 1-2 minutes, or until darkened in colour.
7. Next, add the chopped tomatoes, lamb stock, honey apricots and preserved lemon, and season with salt and pepper. Increase heat to medium-high and bring to the boil.
8. Once boiling, cover with a lid and transfer to the oven, for two hours.
9. After 2 hours, add the chickpeas and olives and adjust salt and pepper, as desired.
10. Return to the oven and cook an additional 45 minutes.
11. Remove from the oven, and remove the lid and allow to stand for 10 minutes.
12. Sprinkle with flat-leaf parsley, and serve with chermoula.

What I Cook With

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• 
  Cast Iron Shallow Casserole Dish With Lid

Nutrition Information:

Yield:

6
Amount Per Serving: Calories: 551Total Fat: 25.7gSaturated Fat: 8.1gCholesterol: 105mgSodium: 302mgCarbohydrates: 29.8gFiber: 3.2gSugar: 8.3gProtein: 47.7g

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low-Cooked Lamb Tagine

A Not-So-By-the-Book Mary Berry Moment

Slow-Cooked Lamb Tagine is one of those dishes that makes the whole house smell like you know what you’re doing in the kitchen, even if you’re just winging it (which, as we know I usually am). Now, I’ve always had a soft spot for Moroccan flavours, so when I stumbled across Mary Berry’s lamb tagine recipe , (from her book Quick Cooking), I thought, well why not? Being an Aussie, I didn’t grow up on a diet of Mary Berry wisdom. My entire knowledge of her is from Bake Off and knowing she can throw a scone recipe together like it’s no big deal. But something about this tagine caught my attention and I decided to give it a go. Sort of.

Let me say this straight up: I didn’t follow her recipe exactly. Are we shocked? Not really. I rarely do! I took her beautiful base and added a few bits and bobs that I felt would elevate it into the kind of dish that has you going back for thirds. And maybe fourths if no one’s watching (or if you’re my husband). The richness of lamb, the sweetness of fruit, the acidity to cut through it all – it just works. I love that sort of alchemy – it’s not the kind of meal you throw together in ten minutes, but it is the kind of meal that rewards patience.

Traditionally, of course, this should be made in a tagine, but I’ve never owned one. I’ve always used a shallow casserole dish, and it’s worked perfectly every time. Purists may turn up their noses, but honestly, when the end result is this fragrant and rich and falling-apart-tender, I don’t think the tagine would mind. The version I’ve landed on is still a love letter to Moroccan flavours, with a few Australian detours along the way. And served with a generous spoon of chermoula? Heaven.

Why I Keep Coming Back to Tagines

There’s just something about the combination of warm spices, soft braised meat, and that gentle sweetness that makes tagines a regular in my kitchen. I’ve been known to make beef tagines, chicken tagines, even vegetarian versions with chickpeas and pumpkin, but lamb has that extra depth that makes it perfect for slow cooking. It soaks up all the spices and softens into this buttery, tender dream that falls apart with the gentlest nudge of a fork. And when you serve it alongside something sharp and herby, like a lemony chermoula or even just a handful of fresh coriander, it comes alive.

The thing with tagines, though, is that they do ask a bit of your time. Not your attention, mind you – you don’t need to be hovering or stirring or babysitting, just a bit of patience. Which is perfect, because I love meals that let me potter about while the magic happens in the oven – it’s low effort in the best possible way. You can go and do a load of laundry, answer a few emails, and still have something utterly gorgeous waiting for you when the timer goes off. I like that kind of cooking, the kind that feels generous, but is secretly lazy.

And then there’s the way it makes the house smell. If you’ve never walked in after a few hours out and been greeted by the smell of cumin, cinnamon, and slow-roasted lamb, I’m sorry, but you haven’t truly lived. It’s that good. And the best part is, it gets even better the next day. If you can manage to not eat it all in one sitting, leftovers are gold.

The Not-So-Traditional Tweaks

Now, if you’ve cooked from Mary Berry’s recipe before, you’ll notice I’ve taken a few liberties. Nothing too outrageous, but enough to call it my own. The base is still hers, with those lovely spices and that rich tomato foundation, but I’ve amped up the garlic, added more dried fruit, and slipped in a few pantry bits that I think really round things out. Mary, if you’re reading this, I promise I did it with love. And yes, I used tinned tomatoes. Sue me (please don’t!)

I also don’t use a tagine, because I don’t have one. Instead, a shallow enamelled casserole dish does the job perfectly. It’s wide enough to let everything sit in a single layer, which means you get better caramelisation and that beautiful rich flavour. Plus, it fits neatly in the oven without any fuss. I’ve cooked this on the stove before too, but honestly, the oven method wins every time for that slow, steady, hands-off magic.

The chermoula on the side isn’t in Mary’s original recipe, but I think it should be. It lifts the whole thing, adds a bit of sharpness and brightness that cuts through the richness beautifully. Think coriander, lemon, garlic, oil, maybe a pinch of chilli if you’re feeling bold. It’s not essential, but it is wonderful. And if you’re feeling really lazy, even just a big squeeze of lemon juice over the top works wonders.

Ingredients Breakdown

Let’s talk ingredients. This Slow-Cooked Lamb Tagine starts with lamb – I go for diced cuts, something with enough fat to stay tender through a long, slow cook. The foundation begins with olive oil, onion, and celery, cooked gently to create a lovely base of sweetness. Then we bring in garlic and ginger, along with a generous amount of spices: ground cumin, ground coriander, cinnamon, and just a touch of sumac to brighten things up. It builds those warm Moroccan notes that make this dish feel both comforting and exotic.

From there, it’s all about layering the flavours. Tomato paste and harissa paste give it depth and a gentle kick, followed by a tin of diced tomatoes to loosen and enrich the sauce. I use lamb stock to keep it flavour-forward and meaty, with a drizzle of honey for that sweet note that plays so well against the spices. Chopped dried apricots bring a bit of chew and fruitiness, while preserved lemon adds a hit of acidity that cuts through the richness beautifully. I throw in a handful of large olives for their briny punch, and chickpeas to bulk it out and soak up the goodness.

Everything gets finished with salt and pepper to taste, and a big sprinkle of chopped parsley just before serving. It’s rich, it’s aromatic, and honestly, it tastes even better the next day. And yes, if you want to gild the lily, chermoula on the side is an absolute dream – lemony, herby, punchy. This version is still deeply inspired by Mary Berry’s recipe, but it’s had a little adventure through my pantry on the way to the table.