Passive Aggression

One thing that always surprises me about Christmas is how little mention is made of ham. In many homes and families, Christmas and Easter are celebrated not with turkey, but with ham, a meat which both tastes better than any bird and has the added benefit of excluding Jews and Muslims. Nothing says we're exclusive better than celebrating one's holidays with something specifically forbidden by your rivals.

My niece, who prepared this year's holiday feast for her family, prepared both a turkey and a ham, both of which were lost on one of my grand-nephews who is such a fussy eater that his plate consisted wholly of a couple rolls (which he had to be told were "bread") and some corn. Others among us were a bit more adventurous and enjoyed every part of the meal, including the two flavors of cranberry sauce.

My sister ended up bringing most of the ham home with her, and it serves as a wonderful accompaniment to the small ham that I received from the same cooking niece in a Hickory Farms assortment. I'm not sure what Dorothy Parker would say about one person with two hams, but in my defense neither one is a whole ham.

Last night I barely dented the leftovers with my ham and cheese omelet, and I'm hoping today's ham sandwich will do a better job. If I make it to the market and pick up some more vegetables, maybe I can branch out to include Denver Omelets, which I don't think I've ever made. I could, of course, eat nothing but omelets all day, every day, but until they stop going back and forth about whether eggs are healthy or not, my enjoyment of them is always tinged with guilt and concern.

In any case, I now as much ham as I could want, at least for the week.