Sunday Supper: Glazed Ham
It is the weekend after Thanksgiving as I write this, and not alone among homekeepers this weekend, I have had to crawl out from under a mantle of sluggishness after the frenzy of autumn activities whose first peak was Halloween and that climaxed on Thanksgiving. We had a great holiday, full of gratitude and sharing with family of friends both established and new. Everyone expressed that the turkey and the greens were among the best ever, and while appreciating that compliment I thought the same of the appetizers, wine and dessert that guests so thoughtfully brought for sharing. But what many guests both attending in person and viewing the photos online seemed most to like were the menus I designed and printed for the Thanksgiving place setting!
Thereafter began a Thanksgiving weekend of activity that is atypical in our urban home. As I wrote when addressing the topic of Thanksgiving leftovers, John and I don't typically engage in much activity during the weekend after Thanksgiving, which so many consider to be the first weekend of Christmas. That Friday we joined our dear friends Kat and Douglas in Manhattan for a film followed by dinner at one of our favorite restaurants. It was a quintessential New York evening, complete with cab rides and cocktails, and was a lovely coda to the time we'd spent together just the day before. On Saturday we finished cleanup while by request I made a simple supper of Mexican food. On Sunday, I ventured no further than a quick walk to the business district.
Holiday lights are going up in Astoria, as sons in undershirts scramble upon rooftops while fathers in sweatshirts futz with electrical cords on porches. I have to admit I find this transitory period stimulating and disorienting in equal measure. Yes, it's nice to see the excitement in people's eyes, and already that much-needed spirit of politesse has surfaced. But it's unseasonably warm in the northeast, and as a child of sunny holidays and despite a planned second citizenship in Los Angeles, I am not ready to trade in snowscapes for sunshine during the winter holidays. Part of the reason I moved to the northeast is snow, which was rare where I grew up and which, then as now, I associate with the winter holidays. I still have a stack of Archie comic books going back to my elementary school days, and in every holiday issue, the panels are filled with snowflakes and sweaters. I pored over these images of tree stands and malt shops during a Riverdale holiday, and treasured them enough to keep them. I can’t say that we get snow every Christmas in New York, but we do so often enough, and somehow Christmas doesn’t seem imminent to me unless it’s snowing, or at least cold enough that it could.
Snow is not the only difference between a southwestern Christmas and a northeastern one. Last summer (last summer!) I wrote about our beloved Nana, a lifelong child of the Pennsylvania mountains. In that column, I mentioned her holiday ham, which was served cold with a mustard sauce. To me, Nana’s Christmas ham was a revelation, as slick and salty as a Mystic schooner, as creamy and cool as a Vermont dairy. Nana’s ham was served with your choice of rye or potato bread, dill pickles and her famous “farhn’ice.” Revelers just in from a romp in a snowbank drank hot chocolate or coffee spiked with “the hard stuff” she kept sequestered in a cupboard. There were platters of sparkly sugar cookies and slices of stollen studded with dried fruit and dusted with powdered sugar. It was in the northeast that I first learned about the Advent calendar, and how to make gingerbread.
I was used to the holidays of desert and prairie. I was a willing accomplice as my grandmother labored over mincemeat for three autumn days once the orchard fruit came in. Mincemeat pies appeared on the Christmas sideboard, along with pies and cobblers of every kind as guests shuttled in and out bearing their finest efforts for sharing during a holiday open-door policy that also included making paper chains from leftover holiday gift wrap and pomanders from oranges and cloves. On Christmas day we had hot biscuits and green beans that had simmered all day in the pressure cooker. The ham was warm from sweating overnight in a low oven and sweaty from a sticky blanket of glaze. Every household had a heritage recipe for ham glaze. These contained everything from Coca Cola and cherry preserves to maple syrup and bourbon. My grandmother’s – at least my best approximation of it – is below.
If you serve ham during the holidays, now is the time to order it. The best ham will come from your local butcher, but good hams are available in grocery stores both brick-and-mortar and online. In the store, I like Cook’s; online, try The Swiss Colony. Wherever you get your ham, you should know that there are two primary categories of it: country and city. A country ham is rubbed with a dry cure and dried in a smokehouse. Butchers and gourmet shops have easiest access to country hams, and they are priced accordingly. A city ham is brined before being smoked and cooked. City hams must be marked “ham,” “ham in natural juices,” “ham in water,” or “ham in water product.” If choosing a city ham, prefer the first, accept the second and avoid the last two. All hams are derived from the tail end of the pig: either shank for the bottom cut or butt for the top cut. Whether your ham is from the city or country, get one still on the bone and choose it for its shape and weight (therefore carvability and yield). Whether the ham is shank or butt or spiral-sliced or not is a matter of personal preference.
GLAZED HAM
Do not skip the pre-soaking step; whether your ham is country or city, it will be necessary both to warm and clean the ham before cooking it.
For the ham
1 bone-in ham, approximately 10 pounds
1 large baking bag
Hot water
For the glaze
1 8-ounce jar orange marmalade
3/4 cup Grade A amber maple syrup
2 tablespoons American whiskey, such as Jack Daniels
1 teaspoon ground cloves
1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
1/4 teaspoon ground red pepper
Country ham: 12 – 24 hours before cooking
If using a country ham, unwrap the ham and soak it according to the accompanying directions for process and duration.
City ham: 4 hours before cooking
1. Unwrap the ham and remove and discard plastic pieces if any, such as doneness testers or the plastic disks that sometimes cover the bone. If the ham is accompanied by a packet of glaze, place the packet in the freezer for another use.
2. Place a bowl or stock pot large enough to hold the ham in the sink. Unfold and open a baking bag. Place the bag with the opening upwards in the bowl/pot.
3. Carefully place the ham inside the bag. Pull the bag taut along the ham and use the accompanying twist-ties to tie the bag tightly across the top. The bag should form a nice tight fit around the ham. Use kitchen scissors to cut away excess plastic from the bag if any.
4. Use the kitchen scissors to cut small slits midway up the bag at the 12, 3, 6 and 9 o’clock marks around the circumference of the ham.
5. Carefully fill the bowl/pot to the rim with hot water. It is okay that the water will leach into the bag.
6. After two hours, carefully empty the bowl/pot of water by tipping it sideways into the sink. Refill the bowl/pot with hot water.
7. After two hours, carefully empty the bowl/pot of water by tipping it sideways into the sink. Cut the baking bag away from the ham and discard the bag.
Approximately 2 hours before serving
1. Preheat the oven to 300 degrees.
2. Settle the ham with its wide, flat side down on a rack in a roasting pan big enough to hold it. Cover the roasting pan with its ovenproof lid or a double layer of aluminum foil, shiny side down. Place the pan containing the ham in the oven.
3. While the ham cooks, measure the glaze ingredients into a small saucepan. Place the saucepan on the stovetop and turn the burner to low.
4. Cook the glaze on low until it reduces in volume and the spices release their fragrance, approximately 10 minutes.
5. Once glaze is reduced and ham has been in the oven for 1/2 hour, loosen the covering on the pan. Use a silicon brush to brush the ham with glaze, loosely covering the pan after brushing the ham with the glaze.
6. Repeat step 5 above every 15 minutes until ham is cooked through and nicely glazed. Total cooking time will vary based on oven heat and the weight of the ham, but is typically 1-1/2 hours.
7. After 1-1/2 hours, use an instant-read thermometer to test the ham for doneness by inserting the thermometer into a deep portion of the ham without touching the bone. The thermometer should register 140 degrees F; if it doesn't, continue baking the ham until it does.
8. Once the thermometer registers 140 degrees, remove the pan from the oven and place it on the stovetop. Use lifters to transfer the glazed ham to a cutting board; loosely tent the ham with foil to rest while you prepare the sauce.
9. Measure remaining glaze if any into the juices that have collected in the bottom of the roasting pan. Turn the burner to low. Heat the roasting pan on the stovetop until they are slightly thickened and very fragrant, approximately 5 minutes.
10. Carefully decant the reduced glaze into a serving bowl. Serve with the sliced ham.
Thereafter began a Thanksgiving weekend of activity that is atypical in our urban home. As I wrote when addressing the topic of Thanksgiving leftovers, John and I don't typically engage in much activity during the weekend after Thanksgiving, which so many consider to be the first weekend of Christmas. That Friday we joined our dear friends Kat and Douglas in Manhattan for a film followed by dinner at one of our favorite restaurants. It was a quintessential New York evening, complete with cab rides and cocktails, and was a lovely coda to the time we'd spent together just the day before. On Saturday we finished cleanup while by request I made a simple supper of Mexican food. On Sunday, I ventured no further than a quick walk to the business district.
Holiday lights are going up in Astoria, as sons in undershirts scramble upon rooftops while fathers in sweatshirts futz with electrical cords on porches. I have to admit I find this transitory period stimulating and disorienting in equal measure. Yes, it's nice to see the excitement in people's eyes, and already that much-needed spirit of politesse has surfaced. But it's unseasonably warm in the northeast, and as a child of sunny holidays and despite a planned second citizenship in Los Angeles, I am not ready to trade in snowscapes for sunshine during the winter holidays. Part of the reason I moved to the northeast is snow, which was rare where I grew up and which, then as now, I associate with the winter holidays. I still have a stack of Archie comic books going back to my elementary school days, and in every holiday issue, the panels are filled with snowflakes and sweaters. I pored over these images of tree stands and malt shops during a Riverdale holiday, and treasured them enough to keep them. I can’t say that we get snow every Christmas in New York, but we do so often enough, and somehow Christmas doesn’t seem imminent to me unless it’s snowing, or at least cold enough that it could.
Snow is not the only difference between a southwestern Christmas and a northeastern one. Last summer (last summer!) I wrote about our beloved Nana, a lifelong child of the Pennsylvania mountains. In that column, I mentioned her holiday ham, which was served cold with a mustard sauce. To me, Nana’s Christmas ham was a revelation, as slick and salty as a Mystic schooner, as creamy and cool as a Vermont dairy. Nana’s ham was served with your choice of rye or potato bread, dill pickles and her famous “farhn’ice.” Revelers just in from a romp in a snowbank drank hot chocolate or coffee spiked with “the hard stuff” she kept sequestered in a cupboard. There were platters of sparkly sugar cookies and slices of stollen studded with dried fruit and dusted with powdered sugar. It was in the northeast that I first learned about the Advent calendar, and how to make gingerbread.
I was used to the holidays of desert and prairie. I was a willing accomplice as my grandmother labored over mincemeat for three autumn days once the orchard fruit came in. Mincemeat pies appeared on the Christmas sideboard, along with pies and cobblers of every kind as guests shuttled in and out bearing their finest efforts for sharing during a holiday open-door policy that also included making paper chains from leftover holiday gift wrap and pomanders from oranges and cloves. On Christmas day we had hot biscuits and green beans that had simmered all day in the pressure cooker. The ham was warm from sweating overnight in a low oven and sweaty from a sticky blanket of glaze. Every household had a heritage recipe for ham glaze. These contained everything from Coca Cola and cherry preserves to maple syrup and bourbon. My grandmother’s – at least my best approximation of it – is below.
If you serve ham during the holidays, now is the time to order it. The best ham will come from your local butcher, but good hams are available in grocery stores both brick-and-mortar and online. In the store, I like Cook’s; online, try The Swiss Colony. Wherever you get your ham, you should know that there are two primary categories of it: country and city. A country ham is rubbed with a dry cure and dried in a smokehouse. Butchers and gourmet shops have easiest access to country hams, and they are priced accordingly. A city ham is brined before being smoked and cooked. City hams must be marked “ham,” “ham in natural juices,” “ham in water,” or “ham in water product.” If choosing a city ham, prefer the first, accept the second and avoid the last two. All hams are derived from the tail end of the pig: either shank for the bottom cut or butt for the top cut. Whether your ham is from the city or country, get one still on the bone and choose it for its shape and weight (therefore carvability and yield). Whether the ham is shank or butt or spiral-sliced or not is a matter of personal preference.
GLAZED HAM
Do not skip the pre-soaking step; whether your ham is country or city, it will be necessary both to warm and clean the ham before cooking it.
For the ham
1 bone-in ham, approximately 10 pounds
1 large baking bag
Hot water
For the glaze
1 8-ounce jar orange marmalade
3/4 cup Grade A amber maple syrup
2 tablespoons American whiskey, such as Jack Daniels
1 teaspoon ground cloves
1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
1/4 teaspoon ground red pepper
Country ham: 12 – 24 hours before cooking
If using a country ham, unwrap the ham and soak it according to the accompanying directions for process and duration.
City ham: 4 hours before cooking
1. Unwrap the ham and remove and discard plastic pieces if any, such as doneness testers or the plastic disks that sometimes cover the bone. If the ham is accompanied by a packet of glaze, place the packet in the freezer for another use.
2. Place a bowl or stock pot large enough to hold the ham in the sink. Unfold and open a baking bag. Place the bag with the opening upwards in the bowl/pot.
3. Carefully place the ham inside the bag. Pull the bag taut along the ham and use the accompanying twist-ties to tie the bag tightly across the top. The bag should form a nice tight fit around the ham. Use kitchen scissors to cut away excess plastic from the bag if any.
4. Use the kitchen scissors to cut small slits midway up the bag at the 12, 3, 6 and 9 o’clock marks around the circumference of the ham.
5. Carefully fill the bowl/pot to the rim with hot water. It is okay that the water will leach into the bag.
6. After two hours, carefully empty the bowl/pot of water by tipping it sideways into the sink. Refill the bowl/pot with hot water.
7. After two hours, carefully empty the bowl/pot of water by tipping it sideways into the sink. Cut the baking bag away from the ham and discard the bag.
Approximately 2 hours before serving
1. Preheat the oven to 300 degrees.
2. Settle the ham with its wide, flat side down on a rack in a roasting pan big enough to hold it. Cover the roasting pan with its ovenproof lid or a double layer of aluminum foil, shiny side down. Place the pan containing the ham in the oven.
3. While the ham cooks, measure the glaze ingredients into a small saucepan. Place the saucepan on the stovetop and turn the burner to low.
4. Cook the glaze on low until it reduces in volume and the spices release their fragrance, approximately 10 minutes.
5. Once glaze is reduced and ham has been in the oven for 1/2 hour, loosen the covering on the pan. Use a silicon brush to brush the ham with glaze, loosely covering the pan after brushing the ham with the glaze.
6. Repeat step 5 above every 15 minutes until ham is cooked through and nicely glazed. Total cooking time will vary based on oven heat and the weight of the ham, but is typically 1-1/2 hours.
7. After 1-1/2 hours, use an instant-read thermometer to test the ham for doneness by inserting the thermometer into a deep portion of the ham without touching the bone. The thermometer should register 140 degrees F; if it doesn't, continue baking the ham until it does.
8. Once the thermometer registers 140 degrees, remove the pan from the oven and place it on the stovetop. Use lifters to transfer the glazed ham to a cutting board; loosely tent the ham with foil to rest while you prepare the sauce.
9. Measure remaining glaze if any into the juices that have collected in the bottom of the roasting pan. Turn the burner to low. Heat the roasting pan on the stovetop until they are slightly thickened and very fragrant, approximately 5 minutes.
10. Carefully decant the reduced glaze into a serving bowl. Serve with the sliced ham.
This ham looks amazing! If you want to cook it just right, it's best to have a leave-in meat thermometer to monitor the temperature continuously.
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