Bourbon Orange Glazed Ham

The first week. I cannot write a full post. I will write what I can.

Monday was the funeral. Tuesday I sat. Wednesday I sat. Thursday I sat. I took the week off from the clinic. I took the NP classes off — I had alerted them in advance. I moved myself and the kids to the three-decker. I could not be in our house. I could not be in the living room where the hospital bed had been. I could not be in the kitchen where he had made pancakes from the stool. I could not. I moved us. My mother and father have us. We sleep in my old childhood bedroom, the three of us, in a full bed and on a trundle.

Grace went back to Worcester Wednesday. She hugged me for a long time at the door. She said "Kate. I am your mother. Whatever I can do." I said "I love you, Grace." She cried. I cried. She drove away.

The house on Hancock Street is empty. I cannot go in it. I will have to, eventually. Not yet.

People have been bringing food. The Southie network has mobilized. My mother's kitchen has nineteen casseroles in the freezer — I am counting — plus soups and baked goods and a full brisket a neighbor dropped off. I am not cooking. I have not cooked in six days. My mother is cooking. She is making the meals. She is feeding us. I sit. I eat. I do not taste. I am alive. I am not living. There is a difference.

Liam is with me every minute. He sleeps next to me in the bed. He eats next to me. He asks me every hour if I am okay. He is four and a half. He is taking care of me. I have tried to tell him it is my job to take care of him. He does not accept this. He is taking care of me too. Nora is easier — she does not grasp the permanence yet. She is eating. She is playing. She asks where Daddy is sometimes. I tell her Daddy had to go to heaven and is watching us. She accepts this. She goes back to playing.

I will not write more this week. I am sitting. I am eating what my mother gives me. I am holding my children. I am not writing about cooking because I cannot think about cooking. I will be back. I do not know when. The page will wait.

I’m not writing this now — I wrote it later, when I could think again. But somewhere in that first week, someone left a ham on my mother’s porch on Hancock Street wrapped in foil and tied with a dish towel, no note. It sat next to the brisket in the kitchen and fed us for three days. This is that ham — the bourbon orange glazed kind, the kind people make when they want to say something they don’t have words for. If you are cooking for someone in the thick of it right now, this is what you bring.

Prep Time: 15 minutes | Cook Time: 2 hours 30 minutes | Total Time: 2 hours 45 minutes | Servings: 12

Ingredients

1 bone-in fully cooked ham (7–9 lbs)
1/2 cup bourbon
1/2 cup fresh orange juice (about 2 oranges)
1/4 cup packed dark brown sugar
2 tablespoons honey
1 tablespoon Dijon mustard
1 teaspoon orange zest
1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon ground cloves
Whole cloves for scoring (optional)

Instructions

Preheat oven. Heat your oven to 325°F. Place the ham cut-side down in a large roasting pan and let it sit at room temperature for 30 minutes while the oven heats.
Score the ham. Using a sharp knife, score the surface of the ham in a diamond pattern, cutting about 1/4 inch deep. If using whole cloves, press one into the center of each diamond.
Make the glaze. In a small saucepan over medium heat, combine the bourbon, orange juice, brown sugar, honey, Dijon mustard, orange zest, cinnamon, and ground cloves. Stir and bring to a gentle simmer. Cook for 8–10 minutes, stirring occasionally, until the glaze thickens slightly and coats the back of a spoon. Remove from heat.
First glaze and cover. Brush about one-third of the glaze generously over the scored ham. Tent loosely with foil and roast for 1 hour 30 minutes.
Glaze again and finish uncovered. Remove the foil. Brush another third of the glaze over the ham. Return to the oven uncovered and roast for an additional 45–60 minutes, brushing with the remaining glaze every 15–20 minutes, until the exterior is deeply caramelized and a thermometer inserted near the bone reads 140°F.
Rest before slicing. Remove the ham from the oven and tent loosely with foil. Let it rest for 15 minutes before carving. Spoon any pan juices over the sliced ham before serving.

Nutrition (per serving)

Bourbon Orange Glazed Ham — The Kind of Thing People Bring When There Are No Words