Golden Ham Croquettes

Nochebuena. Christmas Eve. The night of nights. Seventeen people in the house. The table seats twelve and we had seventeen. Chairs from the neighbors. Plates stacked three layers deep in the pantry, because we use the good china on Nochebuena and we have three sets of the good china from forty years of marriage and various Delgado women leaving me things in their wills.

The menu: pernil, of course, a nine-pound shoulder that had been marinating since Wednesday. Pavochón, because we had Thanksgiving leftovers inform the Christmas menu planning (and I had ordered a small second turkey, six pounds, for those who wanted both). Arroz con gandules. Tostones. Ensalada de coditos. Pasteles (eight of them, served at the beginning, with the ceremony of untying the banana leaves, which always gets a round of applause from the kids). Arroz con dulce. Tembleque. Flan. Coquito in bottles on the sideboard, two flavors — the traditional and a chocolate variant I had experimented with in November.

Everyone came. Everyone. Miguel Jr., Jenny, Lucas, Isabella. Rosa, Carlos, Camila. Sofía. David — and James, for the first time at Nochebuena, because David had called me in November and asked and I had said yes immediately and without hesitation, and I told him he could drive up with James Wednesday night, and they did, and James brought me a bottle of fancy olive oil from a shop in Brooklyn that was, I will admit, very good.

I served James a plate first. Host's choice. I gave him the first slice of pernil, with the cuerito on top, the way Eduardo gives it to Mami at every big meal. James looked at David. David looked at me. David smiled. James ate the pernil. He closed his eyes when he swallowed. He said, "Mrs. Delgado, this is —" I stopped him. I said, "Mrs. Delgado is my mother. You call me Carmen. Better: you call me Mami." He looked at David again. David said, "You can say it." James said, "Thank you, Mami." My chest did something complicated. I served myself a plate. I sat next to Eduardo. I did not cry because crying is for the bedroom. I ate.

Midnight: pernil carving. I did it this year, not David, because it was my house and Christmas Eve, and David stood next to me with a towel and helped me plate. The skin crackled. Lucas watched with his mouth open. Camila, one year and one month, was in Rosa's lap being fed bits of pernil. She chewed carefully. She swallowed. She made the face. The face said: this is my food. I belong to this food. This food belongs to me.

Ana came from Bridgeport. She stayed until midnight and slept in the guest room. Mami came, ate, and left early — Eduardo drove her home at 10 PM — and she was tired but happy and she had touched every grandchild's face before she left.

The chain is unbroken. The kitchen is loud. The coquito is flowing. Wepa, wepa, wepa.

When you’ve got seventeen people in the house and pasteles already earning their round of applause, you need something else that can move through the room on a platter—something golden and crispy that disappears the moment it hits the table. These ham croquettes are what I make with the leftover ham bits from holiday cooking, the pieces too small for a plate but too good to waste. They’re the thing people eat standing up in the kitchen while they wait for the pernil, the thing James reached for twice before he even sat down, and the thing Camila will learn to love as soon as she has enough teeth.

Prep Time: 30 minutes | Cook Time: 20 minutes | Total Time: 50 minutes | Servings: 24 croquettes

Ingredients

3 tablespoons unsalted butter
1/4 cup all-purpose flour (plus 1 cup for breading)
1 cup whole milk, warmed
2 cups finely diced cooked ham
1/4 cup grated Parmesan cheese
1 tablespoon fresh parsley, finely chopped
1/4 teaspoon garlic powder
1/4 teaspoon smoked paprika
1/8 teaspoon nutmeg
Salt and freshly ground black pepper, to taste
2 large eggs, beaten
1 1/2 cups plain breadcrumbs
Vegetable oil, for frying

Instructions

Make the béchamel base. Melt butter in a medium saucepan over medium heat. Whisk in 1/4 cup flour and cook, stirring constantly, for 1 to 2 minutes until the mixture turns a pale gold. Gradually pour in the warm milk, whisking continuously to prevent lumps. Cook until the mixture thickens into a very thick paste, about 3 to 4 minutes.
Add the ham and seasonings. Remove from heat and stir in the diced ham, Parmesan, parsley, garlic powder, smoked paprika, nutmeg, salt, and pepper. Mix until well combined. The mixture should be very thick and hold together.
Chill the mixture. Transfer to a shallow dish, press plastic wrap directly onto the surface, and refrigerate for at least 2 hours or overnight, until firm enough to shape.
Shape the croquettes. Using about 1 tablespoon of mixture per croquette, roll into small oval or cylindrical shapes. Place on a parchment-lined baking sheet.
Set up the breading station. Arrange three shallow bowls: one with 1 cup flour, one with beaten eggs, and one with breadcrumbs. Roll each croquette in flour, dip in egg, then coat in breadcrumbs, pressing gently so the crumbs adhere.
Fry until golden. Heat 2 inches of vegetable oil in a heavy-bottomed pot or deep skillet to 350°F. Fry croquettes in batches of 5 to 6 for 2 to 3 minutes, turning once, until deep golden brown on all sides. Do not crowd the pot.
Drain and serve. Transfer to a wire rack set over a baking sheet or to a paper towel-lined plate. Season with a light pinch of salt while still hot. Serve immediately.

Nutrition (per serving, 2 croquettes)

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