I'm feeling perky about pork in anticipation of Easter feasting next weekend. There's something epically, not to mention epicureally, satisfying about curing your own ham and bringing it to the table, resplendent in its magnificent, mustardy crust. And though it takes a bit of planning, there's nothing to it.
A whole leg is a massive thing, a medieval merchant of a treat, not for the faint-hearted or small-saucepan'd. But you don't have to go the whole hog, or whole hog's leg. For most of us, a smaller cut will do. Legs are divided into smaller, more manageable hams - corner gammon, fillet end and knuckle end. The first is the boneless piece, while the other two may be on or off the bone. Today's recipe works well with all cuts.
The best part of baking a ham is that not only will it satisfy even the most gluttonous of friends and family at Easter Sunday lunch, but you will have plenty left over for easy meals and greedy, solitary treats over the following week. You can add leftover ham to soups or stews, stir it into pasta or risotto - until, by the end, you're using the last morsels like a condiment, adding tiny scraps of punchy, salty flavour to scrambled eggs and omelettes. But don't let the chance slip away to create the king of sandwiches: a sturdy slice of ham between two slices of good white bread spread with unsalted butter and a smear of English mustard.
But pork isn't just about the big back leg. While I'm on the subject, I'd urge you to try, or to rediscover, the other end of the limb - the inimitable trotter. While we still relish their succulence, unknowingly, in brawn, pork pie and the like, we've become rather squeamish about eating trotters in their whole state. This is a shame, because they're prized in many other culinary traditions, from sticky, Chinese sweet and sour dishes to Portuguese feijoada, a rich, deeply savoury salt-pork and bean stew.
There is little meat on a trotter, but what there is is rich, melting and supremely tasty. They may be mostly skin and bone, certainly, but that's what gives trotters their glutinous stickiness, an almost addictive texture for devotees. I'd urge you to try my ridiculously simple recipe - slow simmering ensures the meat is meltingly tender and the deep frying encases it in crunchy crackling.
Do try to buy pork from an animal that has lived a comfortable and stress-free life. A Soil Association-certified organic pig will always have lived an outdoor life and received a drug-free, GM-free, organic diet. In butchers' and supermarkets, look out for (or ask for) "outdoor-reared", "free-range" and "rare breed" pork. Unfortunately, these terms have no strict legal definition, but it is rare that they are used fraudulently.
The RSPCA Freedom Food label is the minimum standard I would countenance in indoor-reared pork. As Jamie Oliver reminded us so persuasively a few weeks back, intensively reared pigs are pitiful, miserable creatures. Their meat's not up to much, either: being swollen by an over-proteinaceous diet and fast growth, it is inherently flabby and bland. Good flavour is the end result of a good life and diet, and you're not going to get either from bargain-basem*nt pork. So find a happy pig and make sure you savour every morsel - right down to its toes.
Easter glazed ham
If this is going to form the centrepiece to your lunch on Easter Sunday, you need to start on it now. Buy the joint today and put it in the brine, and you'll be fine. Don't be put off by the long list of instructions: every stage is very simple and requires minimal intervention. Serves eight.
1 half-leg free-range pork
(4-5kg), on or off the bone
For the cure
2kg salt
10g saltpetre (optional, but it helps keep the ham pink)
1 litre good apple juice
1 litre strong cider
6 litres water
1kg demerara sugar
1kg dark muscovado sugar or black treacle
20-30 juniper berries
30g black peppercorns, crushed
10 bay leaves, crushed
10 cloves
To cook the ham
1 large onion, peeled and chopped
2 large carrots, peeled and chopped
2 celery sticks, chopped
10 black peppercorns
3-4 bay leaves
5-6 sprigs fresh thyme
1 small bunch parsley stalks
For the glaze
1 generous tbsp English mustard
250g light muscovado sugar
15-20 cloves
Bring all the brine ingredients to a boil in a large pan, then leave to cool. Transfer to a large plastic container - if you don't have a brining tub, a new bucket or storage container is fine; the most important thing is that it's non-metallic. Chill to 3-4C. Put the joint - also chilled, ideally to almost freezing - in the tub and submerge completely, using a non-metallic weight to help you along. Cover and leave in the coolest place you can find for five days. One to three days before you want to cook your ham, remove the joint from the cure, rinse, pat dry, wrap in a cotton cloth and store in the fridge.
To cook the ham, place it in a large stockpot, cover with cold water and add the stock vegetables, peppercorns and herbs (tied in a bouquet). Bring the water to a boil, lower the heat, cover partially with a lid and simmer very gently for four to five hours. If, after an hour of simmering, the water tastes unpalatably salty, discard most of it (but not the stock veg) and top up with fresh boiling water - this will help to reduce the saltiness of the cooked ham. Remove the ham from the pot and allow to cool slightly.
Preheat the oven to 180C/350F/ gas mark 4. To make the glaze, put the mustard and sugar in a small bowl and mix to a thick, sludgy paste. Peel away the skin of the ham, leaving a smooth, even layer of fat over the meat. Place the ham in a large roasting tin, then with the point of a sharp knife score the fat in a diamond pattern, but not so deep as to cut right through to the meat. Evenly spread the glaze all over it, stud the ham with cloves and roast for an hour to an hour and a half, until the glaze becomes a dark golden-brown, bubbling crust.
Serve with creamy mash, buttery, peppery cabbage and roast carrots.
Things to do with your leftover ham
Fold chopped ham into an omelette with cooked, cubed potatoes and chopped chives.
Add ham to a tart filling, along with gently sautéed onions and a handful of good, strong cheddar.
Stir into a macaroni cheese.
Add cubed ham to split pea soup.
Make a tartiflette "toastie" - mix bits of ham with chunks of cooked potato, some chopped spring onion and cubes of soft cheese (Somerset brie would be good), spoon over a slice of sourdough toast and pop under the grill until hot and bubbling.
Deep-fried pig's trotters with thyme salt
A toothsome treat that will delight your most carnivorous friends - tender, juicy meat covered in a mass of crunchy crackling. Serves four.
4 pig's trotters, scrubbed and
de-bristled, if necessary, with a razor
1 stick celery, roughly chopped
1 large carrot, roughly chopped
1 onion, quartered
1 tsp black peppercorns
1 bay leaf
A few sprigs fresh thyme
4-5 parsley stalks
Sunflower or groundnut oil, for frying
For sprinkling
Flaky sea salt
Fresh thyme leaves
Freshly ground black pepper
Put the trotters in a large saucepan with the celery, carrot, onion and peppercorns. Tie the bay, thyme and parsley stalks into a bundle and add that, too. Add cold water to cover generously, bring to a boil and simmer until the meat is very tender and almost falling off the bone - about three hours. Keep an eye on it, adding more boiling water from the kettle if necessary.
Drain (keep the stock for soup) and gently pat dry with kitchen paper or a clean tea towel - the trotters won't hold their shape, but should just about hang together. (You may have to salvage a few bits and pieces from the stock - fry these separately as a cook's treat.)
Heat the oil in a large, deep, heavy-based saucepan until it reads 170C on a cooking thermometer, or until a cube of stale white bread turns golden in a minute or so. Deep-fry the trotters until golden and crisp, about seven to eight minutes.
Carefully remove the cooked trotters with tongs or a spider, and serve straight away, sprinkled with the thyme salt made by combining a good tablespoon of flaky sea salt, a few grinds of black pepper and some finely chopped thyme leaves. Eat by chewing the crispy skin and gelatinous meat off the bones ·
