Wednesday at sundown, the high feast of Passover begins, significantly, in the midst of Christian Holy Week, on the night before the Church observes Jesus’ institution of the Holy Communion, another renewing ritual whose roots are firmly planted in the Passover tradition.

Though the stories of Passover and many of its symbols figure prominently in the observance of Easter, the early church fathers set the church calendar to deliberately separate the two feasts, and even forbade Christians to observe the older tradition.

Nonetheless, many of the symbols of Passover survive in Christianity, and some churches today have even returned to an ancient tradition of including a modified Seder in their commemoration of the Eucharist’s institution.

One of the most enduring and important of these symbols is the paschal lamb. Though for much of our country ham has replaced it on the Easter table, in many other traditions, lamb is not merely a fluffy white icon on an Easter banner, but the actual center of the feast.

Possibly the shift to ham has something to do with the fact that many Americans, accustomed to the blandness of commercially raised beef, find the flavor of lamb overpowering, even “gamy.” When I teach in other parts of the country, I have to be careful about offering this meat in a class—depending on where I am, it can be the kiss of death for enrollment.

The only way such people can put lamb down is to cover it up and pretend it’s something else. But that rich, distinctive flavor is precisely why I love lamb so much. Along with fresh-cut asparagus, green onions, spicy radishes, and new greens, it’s the very essence of spring. To cover it up or try to make it tastes like something else seems pointless, even unpardonable.

True lamb is a very young sheep, taken when it is under six months old; mutton, a meat rarely seen on American tables, is mature sheep that is at least two years old. Unless you can order your lamb from a small farm that raises sheep naturally pastured and takes the lambs at an early age, however, you’ll be getting something halfway between.

But even that halfway-between meat can be very satisfying eating. One of my favorite ways to cook it is to roast it in the classic French style, seasoned simply with only salt, pepper, and a touch of garlic. The French prefer lamb medium rare, and that does bring out the best flavor.

If you don’t like pink meat, well, all I can say is, it’s time you got over it.

Though not traditional to the recipe, I almost always roast potatoes along with the lamb, basting them with the roasting juices and rich fat. Healthy? Probably not, but who cares—this is a feast, for heaven’s sake!

Gigot d’agneau rôti—Roast Leg of Lamb, French-Style

For the pan gravy, I often replace half a cup of the broth with Madeira, deglazing the roasting pan with it before adding the broth and finishing the gravy.

Serves 8 to 10

1 small whole leg of lamb (about 6½ to 7 pounds)

2 large or 4 medium cloves garlic, lightly crushed, peeled, and cut into slivers

Salt and whole black pepper in a peppermill

3 pounds small red-skinned potatoes, scrubbed and quartered

1½ cups lamb broth (recipe follows) or beef broth

2 tablespoons unsalted butter, cut into bits

1. Position a rack in the center of the oven and preheat it to 450° F. If the butcher hasn’t already done so, trim off some of the excess fat from the lamb, leaving a thin layer at least 1/8 inch thick on all sides. Insert garlic slivers along the bone. Liberally rub all sides of the meat with salt and of black pepper.

2. Put the lamb directly on the bottom of a roasting pan, fat side up, and place the pan on the center of the oven. Roast 15 minutes, until the outside is seared and lightly browned. Reduce the heat to 375° F. and roast, basting occasionally with the juices, until done to your taste, from 12 to 15 minutes per pound for medium rare. 45 minutes before the lamb is done, cut the potatoes into quarters, scatter them around the lamb, and toss to coat them with the roasting juices. Cook until the lamb is medium rare and the potatoes tender.

3. Let it rest for 20 minutes at room temperature before carving, keeping the potatoes warm in the oven. Meanwhile, degrease the roasting juices. Put the roasting pan over direct medium heat and pour in the broth. Cook, stirring and scraping to loosen all the roasting residues, until the broth is slightly reduced. Add the roasting juices and cook until slightly reduced. Off the heat, swirl in the butter and a little of the lamb fat, to taste. Thinly slice the lamb and pass the gravy separately.

Homemade Lamb Broth

Makes about 1½ quarts

2 pounds scrap lamb meat and bones (the neck and shank are great for this)

2 medium yellow onions

3-4 whole cloves

1 large sprig each parsley, thyme, and mint

2 medium carrots, peeled and thinly sliced

2 ribs celery, strung and thinly sliced, 1 leafy top reserved

Salt

1 teaspoon whole black peppercorns

8 cups water or 4 cups beef broth and 4 cups water

1. Cut the meat scraps into 2-inch pieces (leave shanks whole). Trim the onions, split one of them lengthwise, peel, and thinly slice it; peel and leave the second one whole and stick the cloves into it. Tie the herbs into a bouquet garni with kitchen twine.

2. Put the lamb, onions, carrots, celery, herbs, a large pinch of salt, and the peppercorns in a heavy-bottomed stockpot. Cover with the water or water and canned broth. Bring slowly to a simmer over medium low heat, skimming away the scum as it rises. Reduce the heat to low and simmer gently for at least 2 hours—longer won’t hurt it.

3. Let the broth cool and strain it, discarding the solids. Degrease with a fat separator or chill and remove the fat from the top before using.