Divinity, Romans, and One Big Ol' Chunk of Pork

Years ago, in philosophy 101, my instructor challenged us to describe the idea of 'god' in as few words as possible. I don't remember what I wrote; two or three sentences, I think. I was handily beaten in the shortness contest by some other precocious freshman. His answer was composed of two words: omnipotent, omniscient. Full marks.

After a not insubstantial time of consideration I'll propose an amendment. I would like to add to our short list of holy qualifiers the specific ability to, like alchemists of old, transform a mere leg of pork into life-giving ham. Sweet, smoky, salty ham.

Given this new criterion, I am 1/3 divine, For. I. Have. Created. Ham. Collect thy gaping jowls, mortals, I was once one of you. Comport yourselves and I'll give you some historical perspective.

The Romans invented ham as we know it in about 400BC as a way to preserve some of the meat of an unusually large wild boar population. Roman cooks developed a dry-cured, uncooked, aged joint of pork that, when thinly sliced, was meltingly sweet, rich, and salty. They exported this knowledge to a great chunk of Europe when they conquered the majority of it. Most of the former Roman territories still produce a local version – most notably Bayonne Ham of France, jamón of Spain, and prosciutto crudo from Italy.

Ham making wisdom soon spread to the rest of Europe and later from there to the various European colonies, where methods of pork curing were adapted to the local climates and cultures. The American colonies began producing a brine-cured and smoked ham, versions of which eventually make it into the countless ham sandwiches I eat each year.

Anyway, I know I'm in danger of doing that thing where I give you a long, ever narrowing, historical narrative that seems to culminate at me, as if I were the crowning result of the great march of time. That's not my intention. I'm just here to talk about ham and I want to be sure you know that I have no delusions of grandeur. Such a thing would be unbecoming of a 1/3 god.



Ok. I know this is a blog about what I cook and eat at home, and you can clearly see that I am in chef whites in the photo above. It seems like cheating, but I'm pretty damn proud of this ham, and anyway, this is my blog, who asked you?

Juniper-Cured, Hickory Smoked Ham

Big Disclaimer: Curing and smoking meats can be dangerous. If not done properly you can make someone ill. In addition, pink salt (also called saltpetre or sodium nitrate) is dangerous if eaten in great quantities. In other words: if you stuff this up, you've been warned.

10-14 kilo pork hind leg, bone in, leg bone removed to 1st joint

12 liters water
160 g pink salt (sodium nitrate)
1 kilo dark brown sugar
500 g sea salt flakes
300 g table salt
700 g honey
1 c juniper berries, lightly toasted
½ c black peppercorns, lightly toasted
25 bay leaves

Bring all the ingredients, except for the pork, to a boil. Stir to dissolve and cool to room temperature. Refrigerate until cold.

Get a large bucket, I mean a huge bucket, one just larger than the pork leg. Place the pork in the bucket and pour the brine over it. The brine must cover all of the pork. You cannot add more water as this will affect the brine. If you absolutely cannot make the brine cover the pork, you'll have to make more. Place a plate or a tray on top of the pork and weigh it down so that it does not float out of the brine. Cover tightly and refrigerate.

Keep the pork in the brine 12 hours for every 500g. I know. That's, like, almost two weeks.

Once the pork has cured, discard the brine and leave the leg in the fridge overnight to dry a bit. Soak some hickory chips overnight.

Prepare your bbq for smoking. Heat one side of your bbq on low heat and start some damp hickory chips smoking. Place the leg, skin side down, on the opposite side of the bbq and close the lid. Keep topping up the smoking chips and monitoring the internal temperature of the pork using a meat thermometer. The ham is ready when the interior of the meat reaches 65º C. It should take about 6-8 hours. I often stop smoking when the outside of the ham has achieved a rich dark brown color. This usually takes about 3 or 4 hours to develop, after that, I just keep slow-cooking the ham until the very centre reaches 65º.

A couple of things to note: one, it is possible to over-smoke meat; don't continue smoking if the meat is already dark and smokey. Two, flames are bad. The smoke from flaming woodchips is very acrid; the chips should smolder, not burn.

Cool the ham and store it in a cool place, preferably in a “ham bag” as this allows it to breathe a bit and will prevent the ham from going sour.

What are you going to do with all this ham? Easter? Christmas? Tuesday? Who cares?! It's ham!