Status (2)

[desperance]

Another two pages this afternoon. It feels like squeezing toothpaste from a dry tube, but, hell, if I only sit here long enough, the words will apparently come. One thing I have, it is the knack of sitting.

Also, something else I have, some things else: I have smoked sausage, courtesy of the continental market (which visits rarely and at unpredictable times, but on good days I walk up through town after my session at the Lit & Phil and there the stalls are, ranged around the Monument; and there my bank is, all willing to give me cash to spend; and so I come home with bread and cheese and sausage and likewise goodnesses), and I have wine courtesy of the supermarket's loss-leader mentality.

And now I have to write another two pages, and that may cost me this entire bottle of wine, which would be Bad. Cheap, but Bad. (I saw a GP friend yesterday, who had been conducting a new do-you-drink-too-much? questionnaire with a patient, and realised in that classic way that he himself was answering "Yes" in all the wrong places. Apparently the fact that I sometimes drink an entire bottle of heavy red wine by myself would schedule me for further investigation instantly...) But, I would have my seven pages.

Forward...

Comments

[kazdreamer.livejournal.com]

I, too, am trying that trick of just staring at the screen until words come. Am writing a synopsis and my brain hurts.

The mulled wine is helping...

[davidbarnett.livejournal.com]

On dead pig related matters, Chaz, have I missed the annual Christmas ham post? If not, can you put some more detail in, ie how to do it? I have a hankering to make a Christmas ham but am about as good in the kitchen as I am at getting books published, so could do with a step-by-step guide from a master.

[desperance.livejournal.com]

I promise: when I cook the Xmas ham, I will describe the process. It is, um, really really easy? It goes like this, basically: buy a ham or a gammon or a half-gammon, on or off the bone, according to personal taste and the size of your available largest pot. (On the bone is better for flavour, as the meat nearest the bone retains a sweetness not to be captured else; off the bone is easier for carving.) While you're about it, buy an orange.

Soak the ham for twenty-four hours, just to leach out some of the salt.

Drain and rinse, then put the ham back in the pot, cover with water and bring to the boil. This will take a while, probably.

As it comes to the boil, white frothy scum-stuff will arise; skim it off, as much as you can. Meanwhile, stud the orange with many cloves.

When the water's boiling, turn it down to a simmer, as slow as you can sustain; when you've skimmed off all the scum you can bear to, drop in the orange.

Simmer for twenty-five minutes per pound, plus twenty-five minutes.

Drain the ham and set it in a roasting tray; set the oven on high, with a shelf low enough to take the ham in all its bulk without rubbing on the oven roof.

While the oven's heating, cut the rind off the ham (carefully - it will still be hot!) while leaving a decent layer of fat. Slash the fat, and prepare your glaze. I tend to mix molasses sugar (for sweetness) with redcurrant jelly (for fruitiness) with mustard powder (for edge); other people use honey or treacle or marmalade or all sorts of stuff. Consult and read around for something that sounds nice, then slather it thickly all over the ham. It will likely melt and dribble off, but you can baste.

Then shove the ham in the hot oven and bake on the glaze: twenty minutes, maybe half an hour. Leave it any longer and it will caramelise, which is lovely, but ten seconds after it has caramelised it will start to burn, which is less so.

Take it out, let it cool, voila.

Easy.

PS

[desperance.livejournal.com]

I meant to mention, I was in Waterstone's yesterday and they had a copy of Angelglass right there on the shelves. Yay! (And nothing of mine, of course, but they never do: boo!)

[durham-rambler.livejournal.com]

Definition: an alcoholic is somebody who drinks more than their doctor.

[desperance.livejournal.com]

Happily, Simon's not my doctor; I said "I think I drink more than you do" and he said "Chaz, there's no question about that, we both know you drink more than I do."