Lloyd Malone, Jason Malone, and the Country Ham

A Lesson in Life

by Doug Cogburn

A country ham would be nice for the Epiphany Party, I thought. But what do you do to make a good country ham? I asked around and everybody said to call Judy Malone. I did, and she told me how she did it. The very first step, she said, was to have Lloyd get his sharp knife and debone the ham, and he agreed to come to the house for the operation.

I watched him as he poked around for the bone, then cut into the ham. He had the bones out in no time and then he cut off the skin and extra fat. And the whole time he talked. That was unusual for Lloyd; he was typically a man of few words. But not tonight. He talked about his childhood and youth; about the old house they lived in before building his present home; about hog killings and other good hams; about the values he'd grown up with and how the world was changing; about things that were important to him. I'm always grateful when he entrusts me with their memories, and before the ham was ready to soak we had spent an entire evening visiting just like people had used to do when Lloyd was a boy. Before he left, he asked, "You think you know how to cut one up now?" And I told him that I probably could if I had a sharp knife like his.

The Ruritan Club had its annual Labor Day Picnic at Kinser Park later that year. One of the star attractions is the bingo game with all the prizes. I never won anything before, but this year I bingoed and got a filet knife like Lloyd's. I watched Lloyd and Judy leave after it was over and thought that now I had the sharp knife, but I'd still probably call on Lloyd to help the next time I needed to debone a ham.

That was four years ago. Just the other day I was getting a country ham ready for a Labor Day picnic and a church homecoming. Brie was watching me debone it and asked why you had to do it. I told her that some people don't, but there's several reasons that I do. First, it opens up the ham so it soaks better. Second, sometimes when I miss my Dad I need a big pot of soup beans and this way I've got ham bones for seasoning. But most importantly, doing this reminds me of a cold January evening with a warm fire in the fireplace and a good friend who shared that evening with me a few months before he died the Friday after the Labor Day Picnic.

Lloyd's son Jason is getting married this October. I know what I'm going to get him. I think they need a sharp knife and a country ham. Don't know how well they actually like country ham, but if he's like me some time or another he'll feel the need to cut into one. Maybe he'll even let me come over to help, and we'll make an evening of it, just like they did when his Dad was a boy.

I'm not old enough yet to reminisce about things that Jason and Audra don't remember, but if I go over there I'll at least share my favorite country ham recipe with them, because I've found that you can learn a lot about life from cooking a country ham.

First, they'll need to soak the whole ham overnight, changing the water at least twice. That'll make it easier to fix later. A lot of things in life are easier to fix if you'll

take the time to prepare for them in advance. The next day, he'll use the electric knife that they're bound to pick up at one of their wedding showers to cut the skin and extra fat off the ham, but he'll need the sharp filet knife to find and remove the bone or bones. New things and new ways can be nice and can make some things in life easier, but sometimes, the old things and old ways are best. It's hard to improve on old values, old virtues, old friends. Some things simply don't change, and any effort to do so only makes things harder.

After he gets his ham boned and ready, he'll have to learn a lesson in patience, because the ham that already looks good enough to cook needs to soak overnight again. Change the water and keep it in a cool place. The ham needs to soak up the water and get ready. Some things in life can't be rushed.

When Jason and Audra are ready to cook the ham, they'll put fresh water in the pot, add the ham and bring it to a boil. I'll warn them that the soaked ham smells terrible before it boils and worse after, but that's all right, the finished product will be worth the inconvenience. After the water boils, they need to pour the water out and start over. That happens a lot in life, too. Everything seems to be going fine, then the water you've waited on so long to boil gets poured out and you have to start over. But this time they're not going to use plain water to cook their ham. This time they'll add a bottle of apple juice, some brown sugar and honey, and then maybe a dash or two of vinegar. Once again that's life. It's sweet and pleasant, and it's sour and harsh. Sometimes it's both at once. I know that Jason already knows this because I've seen him go through it. But I hope he notices in our recipe that there's more sweet than sour, even though when it first cooks, the sour will be the predominate odor he notices. He knows that even when life is at its most bitter and sour, that there is enough goodness and sweet to overcome the bad.

Jason and Audra will go through many bitter and sad times in their life together, but those times won't make them bitter or sour, those times will season their life and make them stronger and better, just like the vinegar flavors and helps tenderize their ham.

Now they'll need to add spices to the pot. A handful of whole cloves, allspice berries, a couple of cinnamon sticks, three or four whole nutmegs cut in half, a few slices of fresh ginger, chopped onion and sweet peppers, and some garlic cloves. You can cook a decent ham without all that, but that's life. You get out of it what you put into it. There's lots of spices in life: the friends you make, the places you go, the books you read, the churches and classes you attend, the money and other help you give away. Spices don't do you any good if they stay on the shelf; they need to be used to be enjoyed.

Jason will let his ham gently simmer a few hours, then he'll take it off the stove, but leave it in the water and set it by itself with a quilt over it until it cools. Next he'll take it out of the water and it will fall into several pieces because it will be so tender and juicy. Now he or Audra will get their electric knife back out and slice the ham and put the slices into a large pan or pans. Then they'll put brown sugar over it and then honey, and then they'll bake it in the oven a few minutes to glaze it.

Now they've got another problem. They'll discover that a country ham is a lot of meat. This is not a dish that is designed for a meal for two. This is one of those dishes that is meant to be shared. They will either have to find a church covered dish or they'll have to invite their friends and family over to help them eat it. Most people we know consider a country ham to be a very special gift and treat, but like the best gifts and treats in life, it is meant to be shared with others and not kept to yourself. In fact, a country ham is one of those special foods that you simply can't enjoy if you keep it to yourself.

So Jason and Audra will be faced with their first marital crisis: they'll have to have people over for supper. They'll probably worry that they have to clean up the whole house and have everything spotless and in its proper place. It may take a few hams, but pretty soon they'll learn perhaps the most valuable lesson you can learn from a country ham, a lesson that Lloyd and I shared the night he came to my home back on that cold January evening. A perfectly organized and clean house is not what people makes people want to visit and return again; it's really not even the ham. People don't want to come to your house, they want to come to your home and to be a part of it. They don't come to inspect, they're there to connect. People really won't come to Jason and Audra's for the country ham, they come for what the ham represents: sharing, visiting, reaching out of their usual routine and circle and becoming a part of Jason and Audra's circle. It doesn't matter if the house is in order, what matters is the hospitality and friendship that keeps the home in order.

A country ham and the work it entails and the company it requires does involve a lot of time, but only certain kinds. It is not too much time, it is not time you don't have, it is not time better spent elsewhere. It is a time of soaking, it is a time of adding honey and sweetness and spices to life, it is a time that is needed in our hurried world, and it is a time to remember old friends and family and parents who always had the time for us. They gave others so much of the little time they had left; how can we remember them and give others so little of the time we now have? You can learn a lot from cooking a country ham.