Ham, glorious ham
America is a young country, and our gastronomic traditions are still developing. While there are doubtless legions of my fellow citizens who would willingly debate the point, the truth of the matter is that durable and unique culinary specialties develop only with time. While Americans have some interesting foodstuffs at our disposal, one thing that we lack is a national cuisine.
One of my favorite American products has long been the dry aged country ham. Although Carol and I had certainly heard of country ham, we really only became initiates during a family trip to Williamsburg VA and the mid-Atlantic region. We were astonished by the number of pancake houses there - by far the greatest number of pancake houses per capita of any region in the country in our experience. We learned that one route to true vacation bliss begins by starting each day with buttermilk pancakes and a side of country ham. The true appeal lies in the contrast between the buttery richness of the pancakes and the extreme saltiness of the ham.
A country ham is one that has been salted, smoked and dry aged. While many use the terms interchangeably, a Smithfield ham is a specific type of country ham, typically aged a bit longer than one called simply a country ham or a Virginia ham – the former are usually aged 9 – 12 months, and the latter simply more than three months. As a ham dry ages, it loses water weight, giving a more concentrated (and thus more expensive) product.
According to Wikipedia,
“A 1926 Statute of Virginia (passed by the Virginia General Assembly) regulates the usage of the term "Smithfield Ham" by stating: "Genuine Smithfield hams [are those] cut from the carcasses of peanut-fed hogs, raised in the peanut-belt of the State of Virginia or the State of North Carolina, and which are cured, treated, smoked, and processed in the town of Smithfield, in the State of Virginia.”, although the peanut feed stipulation was removed in 1966.”
“Smithfield” is also a brand: “Smithfield Foods is the world’s largest pork processor and hog producer, with revenues exceeding $11 billion in fiscal 2005” according to their website.
In any event, when we came back from out trip, we were hooked! Shortly after our return, we noticed whole Smithfield hams hanging in the butcher shops in Chinatown, and we learned that Chinese immigrants used them as a substitute for the Yunnan hams that are unavailable in the U.S. We purchased several from various Chinatown grocers, and enjoyed them both with green onions and ginger over chow fun and sliced thin on pizza with ricotta cheese and truffle oil.
Recently, I bought some raw but pre-sliced ham from Father’s Country Hams of Kentucky on the internet. After a long week on the road, Carol made us a Gruyere soufflé and I fried up the slices of country ham, and we had a baby arugula salad on the side: a meal made in heaven. Adhering to the policy that the best wine and food pairing is the wine you want to drink with the food you’re going to eat, we had the 1998 Barolo “Brunate” from Ceretto.
The wine was classic Barolo, with pronounced aromas of dried cherry, earth, violets, licorice and pepper on the nose. On the palate, the wine was firm and structured, but elegant and well balanced. The tannins were still very firm, but not harshly astringent. The acidity was also quite firm, but not in any way tart. Good length.
One could easily make the case that the truest American cuisine would be a melting pot of different influences. Still, the country ham remains un vrai produit de notre terroir with few, if any, rivals.
Comments
Your meal of gruyere soufflé, country ham, baby arugula salad, and 1998 Barolo "Brunate" sounds exquisite. I enjoy visiting the honey baked ham store in Oakland, California during the holidays. You are right; the saltiness contrasts well with so many other foods.
Posted by: Ben Bicais | November 17, 2006 06:45 PM