Jamón A Roll

I don't know much Spanish, to my shame. Living in California, where many of the towns and streets - not to mention the state itself - are named in Spanish, I should know more than I do. There are also many Spanish-speaking people in my town - it would be fun to be able to speak to them in their own language. I learned French as a child and have continued with that but Spanish would make more sense for my life now.

Many years ago, I worked at a dorm at Stanford University where the maintenance man was a Mexican gentleman named Juan. He was a nice guy and we had good talks about his life and his family in Mexico. He also taught me a few words of Spanish when we had time. I learned to say, "I'm learning to ride horses," (because I was) and "There's a mushroom growing in the hall carpet," (because there was), still the only two full sentences I know. He saved me from saying, "Tengo caliente," which in Mexican Spanish means "I'm turned on," when what I really meant was "Tengo calor," referring to the weather rather than to my sexual readiness.

I moved away after a couple of years in California and returned twenty-some years later no wiser about Spanish than I had been when I left. Rochester, NY isn't exactly diverse. It's not much of an excuse, however, since I've been back for nearly fifteen years and I still know just a few words of Spanish.

One of the reasons I'd like a bit more Spanish is the food truck. Next to the gas station where I fill up once every other month (I don't drive a lot now that I'm retired), at noon there is a food truck that serves Mexican food. When I am by myself, it often makes me lunch or dinner.

The guy inside has a big smile, and it gets wider when I try to pronounce Spanish words. Jamón, for example, is pronounced hah-mon, not jah-mon. I learned that just last week when I stopped for a sandwich. I knew the word meant ham, but didn't realize that it is pronounced very much like the English word, "ham." When I ordered Torta de Jamón, I thought I was getting a sort of quiche with ham but it turned out to be a ham sammie, albeit with Mexican flavors and made on a soft roll. It took quite some time for the smiling guy to produce my ham sandwich, richly striped by his grill and loaded with lettuce, tomato, avocado, onion and jalapeño peppers, not to mention the jamón. It was a meal for two of me or one hard-working person, complete with chips and salsa in the paper bag.

I'm learning Spanish one word at a time.

Jamón = ham.

Torta = Sandwich.

Gracias = "Thank you for teaching me two new words in Spanish and for a delicious ham sandwich."

Hamneggs

Ever since we discovered the Fra'Mani uncured, smoked ham, I've been adding it to all kinds of dishes. The salt and the smoke add so much flavor to, for example, plain old scrambled eggs, turning them into a memorable breakfast.

The ham is a small one, so the slices are no more than 4 or 5 inches across, thin as construction paper and so flavorful that just opening the package gets my juices going. Two thin slices was plenty to flavor beautifully four large eggs.

As always with eggs, care in cooking pays off. I minced the ham and set it to warm in a small frying pan before thoroughly scrambling the eggs with a fork until the white and the yolk were one. Reduced the heat and eased those babies into the pan with the ham - they sizzled a little, but didn't sputter. Patient stirring while they made soft curds around the ham. Rescued from rubberization by removing while they were still moist and tender. Turned out onto warmed plates sidled up to a toasted English muffin.

If every day for every one on Earth started with hamneggs this delicious, we would have World Peace.

Putting The Ham In Hamburger

My Beloved adores hamburgers. Freshly ground, he will happily eat the beef raw. He also loves it cooked, but just barely - the top and bottom should be seared but the middle can still be chilly, as far as he's concerned.

He likes cheeseburgers, mushroom burgers, burgers with a slice of raw onion on top - you name it, he loves it. Just last week, I found a new way to tickle his taste buds - adding the ham to hamburger.

I had purchased some uncured, shaved Fra' Mani ham for sandwiches and, while I was forming our hamburger patties, that ham came to mind. I minced a couple of the thin slices with a sharp knife and worked it into the ground beef before pan searing the patties in the usual way. The smoky, salty essence of the ham really enhanced the beef - they tasted like they came off the barbecue that I reluctantly covered up when the rain began.

Nestled into Semifreddi sandwich rolls with the bready middle hollowed out and replaced with sautéed mushrooms, topped with a frill of lettuce and anchored with fresh tomato slices and dabs of June Taylor's ambrosial catsup, this was finger food for the gods.

Appetizing

The last peach from our tree and a store-bought pear, sliced and wrapped with an interesting ham I found last time I went shopping. This ham was rubbed with rosemary, then thinly sliced, almost as thinly as the prosciutto I usually wrap around fruit in this kind of appetizer.

Simple, easy and we enjoyed the rosemary addition to an old favorite.

I Get By with a Little Help from My Friends

Sometimes, things just happen at exactly the right time. Serendipity. First, my butcher explained that ham shank would be better than ham hock with my beans - she said her Irish family always used the shank and who am I to argue with a fellow Irishwoman? Especially when she is wielding a large knife.

Then, while I was simmering a big pot of Rancho Gordo cranberry beans with said ham shank, water, tomato sauce and some chopped, softened onions, I happened to read Peter's post about the penitential meal he was making for his little family, having pigged out on Za-zagna (I love Milo's name for it!) the day before.

As always, Peter was tossing in a dash of this and a dollop of that (he likes layered flavors) to his beans so I decided to follow suit with mine. Having no idea what shichimi is and being too lazy to look it up, I only added balsamic vinegar and a little maple syrup to mine. I left out his soy sauce suggestion as my ham shank was already adding plenty of salt.

More simmering and tasting as they got softer and softer, and finally they were ready. The ham had fallen completely off the bones in chunks and the marrow had dissolved into the sauce. The color was a rich browny-red and the flavors wafting up were literally mouth-watering. While perhaps not as complex as Peter's beans, they were deeply satisfying and homey with a little kick in the pants from the vinegar to keep them from being boring.

I'll be back to thank the butcher this week and herewith go my thanks to Peter - I got high on these beans - with a little help from my friends.

Protein Hit

I don't eat a lot of eggs. I can't face them early in the morning and usually by lunchtime I'm looking for something I don't have to cook. Every now and then, however, I'm in the mood for their rich protein and breakfasty goodness.

My Beloved was hungry around eleven one Sunday morning recently, so I decided to whip up an omelet with some Black Forest ham and Jarlsberg Swiss cheese we had in the reefer. When I went to take those out, I noticed a carton of creme fraiche that had sat, neglected and lonely, in the fridge for quite some time, so I had the idea of adding some of that, too.

The result was one of the best omelets it has ever been my pleasure to devour. All I did was plop four teaspoons of creme fraiche here and there in the four-egg omelet we shared. The mild ham and cheese were lent a creamy richness by the creme fraiche, which melted and swam around a bit, leaving just the slightest hint of a tang everywhere it went. It seemed to slow the cooking down a bit, too, so when it was finished the omelet had a golden brown bottom and a fluffy, creamy center fit for a food stylist's camera.

Next time you have an urge for a serious protein hit, think about adding creme fraiche to turn your omelet from plain to patrician.

Eternity

Dorothy Parker defined eternity as "A ham and two people." She was mostly right. However, at the Marin farmer's market this week I found Range Brothers Applewood Smoked Maple Ham, conveniently small and really tasty. We've been using it in all kinds of dishes.

Lunch after the market run was a new version of Cheese Dreams, toasted English muffins topped with ham and melted cheese smoked Gouda cheese.

For dinner, a tasty new version of "Ham and Swiss," coarsely chopped red Swiss chard sauteed lightly in the rendered fat from the maple ham "lardons."

Breakfast included fresh Marin Sun Farms eggs scrambled with more of the lardons.

At this rate, we'll need a new definition of eternity - it's going to be here 'way too soon.