Raspberry Chipotle Glaze for Ham

Rosa's ninth death anniversary. September 15, 2025. Nine years. This year the candles are different — not just the candles at St. Patrick's but a candle in Anapra. In the new bakery. Lupita lit it. On the counter. Next to a photograph of Rosa. The same photograph that hangs in the El Paso bakery. Rosa's face, in two bakeries, in two countries, on two sides of the bridge. The face that crossed the bridge through me, through the recipes, through the flour, and has now arrived — not physically (Rosa is in the ground) but essentially, spiritually, in the name on the door and the candle on the counter and the concha in the display case.

The opening is in three weeks. October 7. Sofia has the timeline: soft opening on October 7 (invited guests, friends, the Delgado family in Juárez, the local press — Eduardo arranged coverage from a Juárez newspaper). Grand opening on October 14 (public, open to everyone, free conchas until noon). The timeline is Sofia's. The execution will be flawless. The execution is always flawless because the executor is Sofia, and flawless is Sofia's minimum standard.

I made chile colorado. Year nine. One more year to the second decade. But this year the chile colorado was made twice — once in El Paso, at the bakery, the regular annual memorial recipe, and once in Anapra, in the new kitchen, by Lupita, supervised by me. Two chile colorados. Two kitchens. Two cities. One recipe. One Rosa. The double chile colorado is the symbol of what is coming: the recipe spreading, the kitchen multiplying, the promise not just kept but expanded, and the expansion is the next decade's mission, and the mission starts in three weeks.

The chile in that double memorial pot was never just an ingredient — it was the thread. Chipotle is dried, smoked, transformed, and still unmistakably itself, which is exactly what Rosa’s recipes feel like now that they live in two kitchens. When I wanted something on the table that honored that smoky heat without recreating the exact colorado we’d already made twice that day, I turned to this raspberry chipotle glaze — fruit and fire together, sweet on the surface and burning underneath, the way grief and pride always feel when they arrive at the same moment.

Prep Time: 10 min | Cook Time: 20 min | Total Time: 30 min | Servings: 12

Ingredients

1 cup raspberry preserves
2–3 chipotle peppers in adobo sauce, minced
1 tablespoon adobo sauce (from the can)
2 tablespoons apple cider vinegar
1 tablespoon brown sugar, packed
1 teaspoon garlic powder
1/2 teaspoon smoked paprika
1/4 teaspoon salt
1 fully cooked bone-in ham (8–10 lbs), for glazing

Instructions

Combine the glaze. In a small saucepan over medium heat, stir together the raspberry preserves, minced chipotle peppers, adobo sauce, apple cider vinegar, brown sugar, garlic powder, smoked paprika, and salt.
Simmer and reduce. Bring the mixture to a gentle simmer, stirring frequently. Cook for 10–12 minutes until slightly thickened and glossy. Remove from heat and let cool for 5 minutes.
Score the ham. Preheat oven to 325°F. Place the ham cut-side down in a roasting pan. Using a sharp knife, score the surface in a diamond pattern, cutting about 1/4 inch deep.
Apply the first coat. Brush a generous layer of the raspberry chipotle glaze over the entire surface of the ham, pressing it into the scored cuts.
Bake and baste. Bake uncovered for 1 hour and 15 minutes, basting with additional glaze every 20–25 minutes, until the ham is heated through and the glaze is deeply caramelized and sticky.
Rest before slicing. Remove the ham from the oven and tent loosely with foil. Let rest 10 minutes before slicing. Serve with any remaining warmed glaze on the side.

Nutrition (per serving)

Raspberry Chipotle Glaze for Ham — The Chile That Crossed Two Kitchens