Loafing around with leftover ham

Because I had a ham this year for the first time ever, even though I gave some away, I needed to think up interesting things to do with the leftovers (once the first little orgy of frying up pieces for breakfast and eating slices for light salad dinner had passed).
By New Year's Day there were only scraps left, so I decided to try making ham rissoles. (My family's rissole recipe is the most popular page on this blog.)

          First I ground up the ham in the processor - it came to about two and a half cups - and put it in  a big bowl. I had leftover kumara salad (with chili dressing) as well as four little boiled Jersey Benne potatoes, so I mashed all that together with an extra slug of Ruth Pretty's chili jam (made by Ali) and mixed it with the ham. I added some salt and pepper and a tablespoon of self-raising flour. Then I beat up two small eggs and stirred them in. 

          The mixture was a bit too wet, so I added a little more flour, mixing it in thoroughly.  It still seemed too damp to make successful rissoles. I could have added breadcrumbs, but if the mix has too much flour or breadcrumbs in it, the flavour goes.  So I decided to change tack and make a ham meatloaf instead. I figured it would be a bit healthier than individually fried rissoles.  (Like all enthusiastic eaters, I'd put on a bit of Christmas weight and really didn't need any more.)

           So I looked for ham loaf recipes online. It was the baking instructions I was after, rather than ingredients.  I liked the sound of one involving a pour-over liquid, so I adapted it a bit.

Baked ham loaf

Scraps of leftover ham, minced to provide at least 1 cup (for a small loaf) or up to 3 cups (larger loaf)

Cooked potato or kumara or both

Finely chopped small onion

(I had some cooked onion confit, so I used that)

Small amounts of any other veges you fancy including, e.g. cooked peas, finely chopped red pepper, sweet corn kernels

Breadcrumbs (if needed)

Flavouring - chili sauce or jam is good, but you could also use herbs/worcester sauce/mild mustard/a bit of chutney - just don't let it get too salty.

Self-raising flour

Salt and pepper (check again for saltiness before adding)

1-2 eggs (depending on quantities)

See above and also the rissole recipe for general instructions - the quantity of ham you have determines how much of the other ingredients you need - but make the mixture a little wetter than you would for rissoles.

Set oven to 180C.

Line loaf tin with baking paper.

Fill tin with loaf mixture.

Turn oven down to 170C.

Bake loaf for 30 minutes.

While loaf is baking, make pour-over liquid.

(This amount is for a loaf with 2-3 cups of minced ham.)

½ c brown sugar

1 tsp Dijon mustard

1 Tbsp vinegar (preferably sherry vinegar or red wine vinegar)

2-3 Tbsps lemon juice or lime juice

¼ c water (or leftover white or red wine - this recipe is all about leftovers)

Put all ingredients into a small saucepan, bring to boil, stirring, and cook gently for 10 minutes. Pour a little into a small dish, cool it carefully, taste for flavour balance and adjust as you wish. 

When loaf has baked for 30 minutes, take it out of oven and carefully pour over enough sauce to coat the top and come a little way up the sides. Don't drown it or overflow the paper.

Return loaf to oven and bake for about another 30-40 minutes, until a thin knife or skewer inserted in the middle comes out clean and the loaf is becoming firm to the touch. The glaze will be shiny and lightly browned on top and around the sides. 

Cool a little before turning out onto a rack in its paper, then carefully remove the paper when it's cool enough to handle.

Serve warm in slices, with chutney or relish, salad, and, if needed, bread and butter.

This keeps very well and is delicious for lunch next day - but if there are more than one or two of you, there won't be any left.

Hamming it up

Nine of us for early dinner this year, and a new approach (for me): a move away from Harvey's beloved roast dinner, and I didn't make a Christmas pudding.  Instead we had a half-ham from Cameron Harrison in Kelburn (their ham won best in New Zealand this year).
         My smartest move was at the butcher's the day before - they weren't busy when I got there, so I asked them to skin and score it for me. What would have taken me half an hour and lots of swearing took them two minutes.  I took lots of advice about glazing and warming the ham (it's already cooked, of course), and settled for a simple but delicious glaze of quince jelly (made by friends) with a dash of Dijon mustard. Not very good photos though - blame it on the champagne...

With it there were boiled Jersey Benne potatoes, roast kumara with chili dressing, and a trio of vegetable salads, which were partly trad and partly invented: a green one, a ruby one, and a red, orange and yellow one.

The green one had to be made mostly on the day: ribboned courgettes and spring onions (from the Hill St market) with chunks of avocado, lightly cooked skinny asparagus, finely chopped mint, and a sharp lemon and avocado oil dressing. The courgettes and mint went into the dressing a couple of hours before serving, and the rest was added just before we sat down.  The pretty lettuce serving as a frilly surround is my Drunken Woman Fringed Head.

For the ruby one, inspired by my neighbour, I roasted very small whole tinned beetroot, drained and cut in half if they were a bit bigger, with lemon zest, finely chopped garlic, brown sugar and balsamic vinegar, first wrapping them in foil lined with baking paper, and cooking for 30-40 minutes at 180C. (Of course you could make this with fresh beetroot, but it would take much longer and it's hard to get very small ones.  Roasting the tinned ones this way changes their flavour.)
         On the day, I combined finely chopped red onion (soaked briefly in salted warm water to make it milder) with finely sliced radishes. I added the beetroot just before serving, with a dressing made of good olive oil and a superb blackcurrant and balsamic reduction, sent for Christmas by my sister. Then I mixed in pomegranate seeds - such beautiful, ancient things, and I hadn't used them since I lived in Albania. I topped it off with a scattering of borage flowers offered by two of my guests.

The last salad was based on the recipe for "Insalata di peperoni arrostiti" in Antonio Carluccio's Invitation to Italian Cooking. He says it "improves with standing, and is excellent eaten the next day", so I could make it on the 24th.

Roasted pepper salad
4 fleshy yellow and red peppers (I added an orange one too, and slightly increased the dressing quantities)

Halve or third the peppers, removing the seeds and white inside bits,  and grill them skin side up, spread out on a grill pan, or skin side down on a barbecue if you're having one, until the skins go wrinkly and blacken in places.  (You can also blister them individually over a gas flame, but this mass cooking is much faster - only they do need careful checking to make sure they aren't getting too charred, and you'll need to move them around a bit to get even coverage.)

Put the peppers into a plaastic bag or bags, twist the neck, and leave till cool. Then peel or scrape off the skins with a sharp knife. Slice the peppers into thin strips (no more than 1cm wide).

2 cloves garlic, coarsely chopped
3 Tbs good virgin olive oil
1 Tbs parsley, coarsely chopped
salt

Place the pepper strips in a serving dish and toss with the garlic. Dress with the oil, parsley and salt.
Leave until needed (preferably overnight). Check seasoning before serving.

I wanted to get tomatoes in somewhere, so I added halved baby oval tomatoes at the last minute.
Two of these salads, and the kumara, were slightly sweet or sweet/sour, and the green one had lovely fresh flavours. They were all very good with the ham.
         The other four courses - starters, cheese, dessert, afters - were supplied by my guests. The black forest trifle had to have its photo taken before the spoons went in.

Savoury comfort food from Italy

In the three weeks and a day since Harvey died, I've eaten dinner on my own nine times, mostly in the last two weeks. One night, I took myself over the road to Flavours, the local Indian restaurant. I felt perfectly comfortable eating alone in their upstairs room that catches the late summer sun - and there was enough curry left over to bring home for another night.
         I haven't done much shopping and I've been inclined to eat pasta and rice - I haven't felt like cooking red meat, though I'm happy to eat it when I'm out and someone else cooks it for me. The remains of the Christmas ham have come in handy too.

It was the last of the ham that inspired me to cook myself a lovely risotto, from the Piedmont and Valle d'Aosta section in Claudia Roden's The Food of Italy. Even Harvey, never a great rice lover, enjoyed this one, though I didn't make it often. The first time I must have had some rice which, though it was labelled arborio, took ages to absorb the liquid and put me off trying again. But eventually I did, with different rice, and it worked much better.
           This time, as well as good ham, I had good stock too - I'd made it from a smoked chicken carcase, and put it in the freezer. It's strange cooking with things I made, or even just bought, before Harvey died. Such a sudden line drawn across life.
            Anyway, here's the recipe - I made enough for two servings and froze half, I don't know how successful that will be. But here I've given the original quantities (only with rather more ham and cheese) to feed 4-6 people. It's very comforting food, a bit like a savoury rice pudding.

Antico risotto sabaudo (based on Claudia Roden's recipe, serving 4-6)
50g butter
1 medium onion, finely chopped
100g cooked ham, diced (I used quite a bit more to finish up the ham, especially as it was for my dinner rather than an entree)
1 large sprig of rosemary
400g Arborio rice
150ml white wine
1.25 litres chicken stock
150g fontina or gruyere cheese, cubed
4-6 tbsps freshly grated parmesan

Melt the butter over low heat in a saucepan, add onion and cook gently for 5 minutes until soft but not coloured. Add ham and cook 1 minute, then rosemary and rice, stirring until the rice is transparent. (Mine never seems to go transparent properly but it doesn't matter.)

Add wine, stir and cook until it's absorbed. Add stock a ladleful at a time, stirring until each is absorbed. After about 20 minutes the rice should be creamy but al dente. Stir in fontina or gruyere cheese and cook for another 5 minutes.

Serve in warmed pasta plates with parmesan scattered over the top. I had this with a tomato and basil side salad.