We let the fine folks at Prather Ranch concoct our lamb sausages, but it took a knee-jerk suggestion from the resident jerk to come up with a suitable condiment.
"Lamb?" thought the resident jerk. "Mint."
I've never been one to automatically reach for the mint jelly when the roast lamb comes out of the oven, tradition or no.
Wait. We didn't roast lamb in my family when I was growing up. At all. And we never, ever, had mint jelly in the fridge.
So even though the jerk's suggestion was classical, iconic, archetypal, knee-jerk — it wasn't going to happen.
Besides, the lamb sausage was already seasoned with its own mysterious blend of flavorings (salt apparently being foremost among them, as we learned upon tasting the cooked links).
But it needed something... green. Snappy. Tart. Minty, even. Perhaps a salsa, whispered the resident jerk.
Mint, we have: growing lustily on the patio. That was rounded out with a chopped jalapeño, a couple of diced tomatillos and a goodly wad of minced garlic chives. Oh, and (darn), some salt. Hadn't tasted the salty cooked sausages yet, so on autopilot I threw some salt into the simmering tomatillos.
Let it cook and soften for a while, scoop it into a dish, and allow diners to dose their sausages as they see fit.
We used up the entire batch of salsa on just two sausages. It was prototypical, quintessential, paradigmatic.
But it was not knee-jerk.