recipes for things to do with a ham bone

As you can see, this starts with a pile of meat, blurry, pink, hacked at. The meat was served for Christmas Eve dinner, or was it Christmas Day? At this point, both of those events have faded away; they are more "to come" than "came," more an event on the horizon than one that has already set. But in any case, there is nothing more silently promising than the remains of a carcass of meat, this thing that was once part of a living animal, then a meal, to now become another meal, or several.

That I was allowed to take the thing that would lead to several meals was not a given, though I thought it was. I have taken the ham bone home in the past, and assumed I would in the future. But this time, I had to request it, and though it was freely given, I felt slightly guilty, like I had denied a household a distinct joy I knew I would now be able to partake in and not share. I had plans for the end of this Christmas ham: eating the remnants of the meat in sandwiches and as snacks, but the bigger thing was the bone, which I would use to make Split Pea Soup, that food that you thought was disgusting as a child but learned later was delicious, even if it didn't look it.

I had done the same thing (commandeered the ham bone from a ham I did not cook to make this soup, to be specific) a few years prior, so this was certainly not a new recipe being tackled. I recalled it being easy, but in hindsight, I hadn't realized how many things I'd likely changed. My father's recipe doesn't actually say to use a full ham bone, probably because that would make the soup difficult to drum up on a regular basis; instead, it recommends a ham steak with bone, which I'm actually not sure would be much easier to find at many small New York city groceries. I also didn't recall the "peppercino" being a part of the recipe. I assume he meant pepperoncini, but regardless, I did not use it that time or this time, for reasons I honestly can't remember; I must have forgotten about it? Or it was too much trouble to find? (Also my latent spicy food aversion really does rear its head at embarrassing times.) I had already made my own stock made (cough, brag, cough), and can't vouch for whether it was low sodium, but it must have been good regardless.

Not my hands, FYI.

Once the ingredients were settled on, the actual cooking was still a little more lackadaisical than even I tend to be, I guess because I thought I had this recipe down pat. The meat was cut off the bone and the chunks were caramelized in the pot with onions, the carrots and herbs added. The broth was thrown in, though I'll admit a lot of it was frozen and throwing wildly divergent temperatures together is not the smartest way to make a meal. Then the split peas were added, though the several steps of boiling and simmering were most certainly not done at the right times. I wasn't sure when to add the bone, so I did it when there was enough stuff in there to mostly cover it.

Then it cooked for an indefinite amount of time (not that long, because you've already brought the peas to a boil, though unhelpfully, I cannot remember how long. Maybe 30?). I skipped the frozen peas as a garnish, which I'm fairly sure also happened the last time. The whole thing was served with a hearty bread and a delicious kale salad, instead of croutons and cheese, because, health. It turned out thicker than I wanted it; it sort of settles after you puree it and could have used a bit more liquid. It also doesn't make as much soup as you might think! We had five people at this meal and everyone got enough but that was it.

About as appetizing as Split Pea Soup ever looks.

But this was the meat that would keep on giving. I went on to use the bone to make pork broth for the first time (also known as bone broth, for those of you who are feeling hip), which, even more so than chicken, really fills your house with the strong, extreme scent of meat. I still don't really know if I'm making broth right; I never cook it as long as you are supposed to. The finished product does look like it will be great if I ever choose to make homemade ramen (haha, sure), and sometimes when I open my freezer, I gaze at it, amazed at how impressive I am.

I used the rest of the meat for snacks at my New Year's party; if I showed you the remains of that plate, you would be impressed but also nauseated. It was truly bone for many meals, and a real testament to all that you should do in the winter: eat.

KATE

P.S. Some great notes about hamburger and rice from Madonna, who explains how far off my iteration of this meal was, and good tips on meat grease, proving I am indeed impatient beyond belief. "I have to say, on your plate it doesn't look the way ours looked. In my memory, ours seemed more 'red' and was a bit more soupy. Maybe Ma used more rice and tomato juice/sauce than browned meat (again, to stretch it further). I don't recall what we had with it, maybe bread and butter and home canned pears or peaches on the side. Except for summertime, when we had garden lettuce, we rarely had salad. Husband drinks V-8 juice. I've never liked it. Here's how I drain the grease from meat. I tilt the pan until it all runs to one end. Then I spoon out as much as I can and soak up the rest with a paper towel. Works pretty good."
Also, I finally sent my older sister my attempt at hot tomato jam, and while I am complimented that the universal response seems to be "there's not enough of it" (though she also said there was more lemon rind in it than she likes :)) this also means that next summer, I have a relatively daunting task ahead of me.