By Grace McIntosh
The sauce is made of memories. In each bite I can taste echoes of the past all the way from when my grandmother was young and being served the sauce by her father up to when she was serving the sauce to her own children. My most precious memories of the sauce take place on Christmas Eve, at my Grammie’s house. I remember the familiar smell drifting out of the warm glow of her kitchen, the dining table lined with our family’s finest silverware, the sound of Grammie’s slippers scuffing the hardwood floors overlapped with the faint sound of Christmas carols on the TV. I remember the excitement when the aroma of the sauce got stronger and I was called from my seat on the rough living room carpet to eat. I remember my mom serving me the ham while I sat at the kids' table where all we could talk about was Santa’s imminent arrival. We would stuff ourselves with the sweet ham and I always took the most pineapples despite my cousins’ protest. My older cousin would set up the Santa tracker on my Grammie’s ancient computer beforehand and we would rush to check it after dinner.
As a kid I never asked where the recipe came from or knew the love and history that was poured into its creation. I simply took without taking pause to wonder. Later on, when it came time for me to learn the family’s recipe, I found out that it originated from when my Grammie’s father was a cook on the SS Lord Kelvin during the second world war. The recipe is simple and cheap since our family didn’t have very much money for a while. The history of our family is carried on through this dish as each bite reminds us of who we came from and how far we’ve come.
Now even though our family has changed, our recipes haven't. When I smell the familiar scent of my family’s ham sauce I catch a glimpse of all the memories that the sauce has created.
The sauce is made of memories. In each bite I can taste echoes of the past all the way from when my grandmother was young and being served the sauce by her father up to when she was serving the sauce to her own children. My most precious memories of the sauce take place on Christmas Eve, at my Grammie’s house. I remember the familiar smell drifting out of the warm glow of her kitchen, the dining table lined with our family’s finest silverware, the sound of Grammie’s slippers scuffing the hardwood floors overlapped with the faint sound of Christmas carols on the TV. I remember the excitement when the aroma of the sauce got stronger and I was called from my seat on the rough living room carpet to eat. I remember my mom serving me the ham while I sat at the kids' table where all we could talk about was Santa’s imminent arrival. We would stuff ourselves with the sweet ham and I always took the most pineapples despite my cousins’ protest. My older cousin would set up the Santa tracker on my Grammie’s ancient computer beforehand and we would rush to check it after dinner.
As a kid I never asked where the recipe came from or knew the love and history that was poured into its creation. I simply took without taking pause to wonder. Later on, when it came time for me to learn the family’s recipe, I found out that it originated from when my Grammie’s father was a cook on the SS Lord Kelvin during the second world war. The recipe is simple and cheap since our family didn’t have very much money for a while. The history of our family is carried on through this dish as each bite reminds us of who we came from and how far we’ve come.
Now even though our family has changed, our recipes haven't. When I smell the familiar scent of my family’s ham sauce I catch a glimpse of all the memories that the sauce has created.
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Ingredients:
Meat- ⊹ 1 ham ⊹ 10 slices of pineapple ⊹ 10 maraschino cherries ⊹ 20 cloves Sauce- ⊹ 2 tablespoons of flour ⊹ 1 cup of corn syrup *(honey is good too, I like to use half a cup of each) ⊹ 2 tablespoons of mustard powder ⊹ 1 ½ cups of brown sugar ⊹ A splash of vinegar (enough to “make paste” according to Grammie) *(apple cider vinegar works as well, it’s what I tend to use) |
Recipe:
5. Select a pan to cook your ham in. Make sure the sides are high enough to keep the excess sauce from spilling over later. Set your oven to 350°. Place the ham in the oven and set a timer for 30 minutes. 6. While the ham is in the oven you can prepare the sauce. Start by getting out your flour, corn syrup, mustard powder, brown sugar, and vinegar, as well as your liquid and dry measuring tools. 7. Pour the 2 cups of corn syrup into a small mixing bowl followed by the 2 tablespoons of flour, 2 tablespoons of mustard powder, and the 1 ½ cups of brown sugar. 8. Mix the ingredients together as best you can until they are as blended, adding a splash of vinegar will ease this process. At the end the sauce should be a thick syrupy texture, almost like gravy. *Don’t worry if it’s hard to stir, it's supposed to be very thick! 9. Once your 30 minute timer has gone off, drain the fat (if needed) and pour the sauce over the ham. Pour it onto the top so that it drips down the sides until the ham has a nice and fairly even coating. After you've done this, put the ham back in the oven for 30 more minutes. 10. Once 30 more minutes have passed, take the ham out of the oven and let it rest for 15 minutes. While your ham is resting, boil the excess sauce that will be in the pan and simmer to thicken. 11. During this time remove the pineapple, cherries, and cloves you put in earlier. Remove the cloves by using a fork to grab underneath the bud and lift the clove up. You can place the pineapple and cherries in a bowl to serve as toppings for your meal. 12. Pour the boiled sauce in a gravy boat or whatever you typically serve your sauce in. Carve your ham, set your table, dish your sides and you’re ready to dig in! |