By The house came down gradually between Christmas and New Year's. Sarah and Tom left Thursday, the children reluctant, the parents visibly exhausted in the way parents of small children are exhausted after a holiday in someone else's house. David and family left Saturday. By Sunday it was just Helen and Frost and me, and the holiday tins half-empty on the sideboard, and the farmhouse returned to its winter proportions: quiet, sufficient, mine.
New Year's Eve is a night I have observed quietly for as long as I can remember. My father stayed up until midnight and had a glass of whiskey, which was his one annual concession to festivity, then went to bed. I follow the same practice, minus the whiskey — I have had a glass of cider instead since my mid-forties, because the whiskey started taking a day to recover from and a day is too valuable to spend that way. Helen stays up until nine-thirty, which she considers a reasonable compromise.
I made black-eyed peas. This is a Southern tradition, technically — good luck in the new year — and it has no ancestral claim on a Burlington, Vermont family. I started making them twenty years ago because a colleague at Champlain Valley Union mentioned them and I tried them and liked them and did it again, and eventually it became a tradition, which is how all traditions begin. The peas cook with a ham hock, onion, and bay leaf until the pot liquor is rich and the beans are soft. I eat a bowl at eleven-thirty. The new year arrives. The woodstove ticks. Frost is asleep.
Her annual New Year's reflection: the good things about 2018. The Historical Society talk. The maple candy with Teddy and Anna. The Columbus Day apple picking. The Thanksgiving table. The winter preserved in the cellar. Frost healthy at eight. Helen in the kitchen on a December morning making rolls while the woodstove does its work.
It was a good year. The kind you only recognize as good when you are standing at the end of it, looking back. I will take it.
The black-eyed peas need a ham hock to become what they are — without it the pot liquor is thin, the broth polite but unconvincing. Over the years I have come to appreciate that the ham does as much work as the peas, and a good glaze on a bone-in ham carries the whole meal forward. This recipe captures that same sweet, caramelized depth: the kind of thing you make once for a holiday and find yourself making again the following year, until one day you realize it has quietly become a tradition.
Copycat HoneyBaked Ham
Prep Time: 20 min | Cook Time: 2 hrs 30 min | Total Time: 2 hrs 50 min | Servings: 12
Ingredients
- 1 bone-in fully cooked ham (7–9 lbs), shank or butt half
- 1 cup honey
- 1/2 cup packed dark brown sugar
- 2 tablespoons unsalted butter
- 1 tablespoon Dijon mustard
- 1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon
- 1/4 teaspoon ground cloves
- 1/4 teaspoon smoked paprika
- 1/4 teaspoon onion powder
- 1/4 teaspoon garlic powder
- Pinch of cayenne pepper
Instructions
- Prepare the ham. Remove the ham from the refrigerator 30 minutes before baking to take the chill off. Preheat the oven to 325°F. Using a sharp knife, score the surface of the ham in a diamond pattern, cutting about 1/4 inch deep. Place ham cut-side down in a roasting pan fitted with a rack.
- Make the glaze. In a small saucepan over medium-low heat, combine the honey, brown sugar, butter, and Dijon mustard. Stir until the butter melts and the sugar dissolves, about 3–4 minutes. Remove from heat and whisk in the cinnamon, cloves, smoked paprika, onion powder, garlic powder, and cayenne. Let cool slightly — the glaze should be thick enough to coat a spoon.
- First bake. Brush about one-third of the glaze generously over the entire surface of the ham, working it into the scored cuts. Tent loosely with foil and bake for 1 hour 30 minutes, or until an internal thermometer reads 120°F at the thickest part away from the bone.
- Glaze and finish. Remove the foil. Brush the ham with another generous layer of glaze. Return to the oven uncovered and bake for an additional 45–60 minutes, brushing with remaining glaze every 15 minutes, until the surface is deeply caramelized and an internal temperature of 140°F is reached. If the glaze darkens too quickly, tent loosely with foil.
- Rest and serve. Transfer the ham to a cutting board and let it rest for 15–20 minutes before slicing. The glaze will set into a lacquered crust as it cools. Serve warm or at room temperature.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 420 | Protein: 36g | Fat: 14g | Carbs: 32g | Fiber: 0g | Sodium: 1480mg