Deviled Ham & Eggs

Yes, this post is about deviled ham; no, it is not about deviled eggs, though those are awesome. Today was a surprise stressful day- one of those days that dawns like any other, but a routine appointment turned into an all-morning affair, which meant arranging for someone to hang out at our flat to wait to let in the boiler repair guy who was running late and didn't arrive until shortly after I got home. He was supposed to be doing routine maintenance but quickly realised that our entire boiler somehow needs to be moved UP 15 centimetres in the wall, and while he was doing that, the Council showed up to check on why our back garden is flooding and needed to dye the water in my sink an ecto-plasmic green to see where the blockage is, totally freaking Holtzmann out and did I mention that the boiler guy is scared of dogs?

After they all left and I recovered from the stress of the morning and re-assembled my kitchen, I decided to make the dinner* I had already bought ingredients for, deviled ham and eggs, getting angrier and angrier as I realised that this, too, was probably not going to go to plan and I was going to be left with an unpleasant breakfast-for-dinner situation after my unpleasant appointment, boiler, sink and dog situations of the day. So I angrily chopped ham and snipped chives (have you ever tried to snip things angrily? It doesn't work very well) and mixed then tasted then mixed some more and... suddenly I had deviled ham so delicious I didn't want to wait for dinner because I was too busy eating it off of a spoon at 5pm.

And if I ever thought deviled ham could make my day brighter, may the good lord strike me down as I type, but here we are. This is kind of a freebie recipe because it's the printed meal recommendation on the back of the recipe for last week's rice pudding, but I decided to make it anyway because, I guess, I'm a sucker for punishment (or so I thought, until I made it). But then I made it, and, surprise, it was delicious. Having no access to tinned or prepared deviled ham, I made my own, and thus got to make it as spicy as I wanted, which, after the day previously described, was VERY. In the process of so doing, I looked up deviled ham recipes and learned that the Underwood Deviled Ham logo is the oldest trademarked logo still in use in the US, which is pretty cool and very random since I swear I've never seen it before (except, maybe, when previously making deviled ham for this quiche). Anyway, after reading a whole bunch of recipes to get the gist of what should go in deviled ham (I haven't made it except for the aforementioned quiche, and I couldn't really remember how to do so), I personalised the recipe to my tastes and it was great. This means it's not a super authentically 1950s deviled ham, but if you like spice, ham, eggs and breakfast foods, this is for you and you should totally try it on the weekend. Best served, according to the recipe card, with ideal coffee, but it works equally well with sparkling water and a tomato salad.

If you're not into the idea of deviled ham with eggs as a main course, whip yourself up a batch of the ham anyway and serve it with crispy crackers. It's awesome.

*This dish is technically supposed to be for breakfast, but I didn't want to wait for the weekend so we had breakfast for dinner and COME AT ME if you want to discuss whether this is stupid.

The verdict:

5 spoons out of five. Deviled ham plus scrambled eggs plus toast equals comforting breakfast food guaranteed to kick a hangover on the weekend or, you know, improve your weekday by 34%.

one year ago: smash the patriarchy party mix
two years ago: Garbanzo bean soup  

the recipe:

Deviled Ham with Scrambled Eggs

the directions:

Chop ham coarsely.
Stir in cream cheese, hot sauce and mustard, a little at a time, until desired consistency and flavour is reached.
Add chives, parsley, lemon juice and pepper and mix well.
Taste and add salt if needed (mine didn't) or additional hot sauce (mine did, but that's because I wanted blow-your-head-off levels of heat).
Set aside mixture while you softly scramble two eggs per person and toast 1 slice of bread per person.

Pile scrambled eggs and deviled ham on top of toast and enjoy!

the ingredients:

200g (approx. 4 slices) ham slices, cut thick
60g (scant ¼ c) cream cheese
1 tbsp hot sauce (preferably Frank's Red Hot)
1 tsp mustard (preferably whole grain)
1 tbsp snipped chives
2 sprigs torn parsley
½ tsp lemon juice
½ tsp black pepper

1 slice of toast per person
2 eggs, softly scrambled, per person

Spaghetti Two Ways

These recipes are both basically ''take a box of spaghetti, make a sauce, then eat it!' but one of them involves stirring sliced hot dogs (wieners, in the parlance of the recipe, which, since I am 12, is hilarious to me) into the finished sauce. As this sounds revolting, I am lucky because I live in a country with little to no respect for the hot dog so I was unable to find hot dogs and had to make this with chorizo,* thus combining both recipes into a simpler single version with optional chorizo sprinkles.

Since both recipes require some kind of pre-made sauce base that obviously doesn't exist anymore, I made my own sauce from scratch (-ish) using their additions to dress it up. I had mine with chorizo and Judson tried it without, so you can make it either way, or, if you're feeling really authentically 1950s, go ahead and stir in some sliced hot dogs. What could be better?

I made this for us one night when it was raining (not snowing for once!) and I couldn't be bothered to cook anything that required much thought but still wanted to be in the kitchen because it's always the warmest room in our flat. I really love mindless cooking like making pasta sauce or chili sometimes- the kind of thing where you just chopchopchop sizzlesizzlesizzle simmersimmersimmer taste and adjust, then start again from the beginning. I love zoning out to an old episode of the Golden Girls, my favourite playlist, or an audiobook (my newfound passion- I can read twice as many books at a time now!), listening to the rain and filling the kitchen with steam and good smells until it's time to eat, and this recipe is no exception.

Very much intended to be a 'clean-out-your-fridge' type recipe, this sauce is the kind of thing you'll never make the same way twice because it's completely dependent on what you've got to hand; have an open jar of anchovies you need to use up? Throw 'em in! A stalk or two of celery that are going soft? Chop 'em up! Half an onion, one shallot, and a piece of leek? In they go! A carrot? Fine! A handful of strawberries? WHOA, no. This is not a free-for-all, you know.

Anyway, here's how I made mine, based on what the original recipe recommended to add to a prepared sauce base, but as I said, edit it to your heart's content. You can cook this for as little as 30 minutes including softening time, but it's going to keep getting better the longer you leave it, so if you have time, do your prep a few hours before you need it and then let it simmer for a few hours so the flavours really blend. It'll be worth it.

*Truly, this country has so little respect for the hot dog that the only ones I have ever seen in my shop come full-length in a can packed in water, and the label is, of course, an American flag. Once upon a time, the existence of those water-packed canned weiners was the most embarrassing thing about being an American abroad.

The verdict:

3 spoons out of five. I'm knocking off one spoon because this is no spaghetti bolognese made with fresh tomatoes when they're actually in season, but for a recipe that cleared out my fridge of all the veg I would otherwise probably have had to toss, it's great. And I'm knocking one more spoon because the chorizo didn't really add anything and I can all but guarantee the requested hot dogs would have been even worse.

ONE YEAR AGO: TOLL HOUSE MARBLE SQUARES
TWO YEARS AGO: ASIAN CHICKEN TWO WAYS

the recipe:

Spaghetti

the directions:

Saute the anchovy in the oil in a deep saucepot until it melts.
Add the celery and stir well, reduce heat to medium-low and cook for 4 minutes, until slightly softened.
Add the garlic, onion, bell pepper and mushrooms and continue to cook, stirring frequently, until well-softened and slightly browned, at least 10 minutes or up to 20 minutes.
Deglaze the pot with a generous glug of wine, turn up the heat to medium and add the tomato paste. Stir to combine, then add the passata and stir well.
Bring to a simmer, add red pepper flakes, then taste.
If needed, add sugar, salt and additional red pepper flakes.
Reduce heat to medium-low and either allow to simmer with the lid on for up to an hour, or cook your spaghetti.

To serve, place spaghetti in four individual bowls, top generously with warm sauce, sprinkle with cheese and, if desired, add a sprinkle of chorizo. Note that according to this recipe, adding the chorizo turns this into 'Frank n' Spaghetti Supper.'

the ingredients:

Customise the below to fit what you have in your kitchen:

3 anchovies
3 tbsp olive oil or the oil from the anchovy tin
2 celery ribs, chopped very fine
2 cloves garlic, minced
½ onion, chopped coarsely
1 bell pepper, chopped coarsely
1 handful white or chestnut mushrooms, chopped coarsely
1 glug red or white wine
2 tbsp tomato paste
1 box tomato passata
1 tsp red pepper flakes
2 tbsp sugar or brown sugar
2 tbsp salt or to taste
4 servings of spaghetti
Fresh grated parmesan or pecorino

Optional: 1 generous handful of chorizo, chopped coarsely

Shortbread

First, let's address the fact that this recipe is labelled 'Scotch Shortbread,' when everyone knows that the only things you should ever refer to as 'Scotch' are eggs and whisky. This is a real thing: the correct word is Scottish. And because I'm pretty sure no self-respecting Scottish person or any person who lives here would ever refer to Scotch shortbread, I have a strong suspicion that (horror of horrors!) this recipe was not, in fact, developed in Scotland, so I shall refer to it simply as shortbread.

Now, on to more important things: Thursday is Burns' Night- do you know where you'll be? If you're me, you'll be trying to talk your way out of dancing a ceilidh with a kilted youth after eating more haggis, neeps and tatties than should rightfully be allowed by law. Burns' Night is a celebration of Robert (Rabbie) Burns on his birthday every year in January, and it's a good thing he was born in January because this would be a terrible meal to eat in July.

A proper Burns' Night involves the following:

• A haggis, to which you read a poem before you cut into it with a sword (not a joke- this causes like a zillion serious eye injuries every year when juices squirt out during the poem-reading or sword-slashing)

• The aforementioned side dishes of neeps and tatties (neeps are like what would happen if a rutabaga met a turnip and fell in love... and also turned orange)

• A bunch more poems later

• A dessert like cranachan (my fave!) or shortbread

• Ceilidh dancing (pronounced KAY-lee, this is traditional Scottish dancing)

• And literally all of the whisky you can drink without dying.

While cranachan and sticky toffee pudding are my favourite traditional Scottish desserts, shortbread is nothing to be scoffed at- particularly after a meal as heavy as a Burns' Supper, sometimes it's nice to have a small shortbread with your coffee and call it a night (yeah right, more like 'a shortbread with your coffee before you hit the dance floor'). So if you're looking for a non-fussy Scottish recipe to celebrate your Burns' Night here in Scotland or vicariously from elsewhere, try this shortbread. It's great plain, but works well with decorations as recommended as well.

Some tips: It's important not to overwork shortbread as this will make it tough, so you'll want to mix this as little as possible. The dough will be quite a sandy texture before you roll it out, and rolling it out might be a little tough since it will want to crumble and fall apart on you. Luckily, it's ok if these cookies are a little on the thick side, and even better: if you're really not in the mood to roll this dough out, you can dump it straight into an 8-inch round baking tin, press it as flat as possible and bake it that way. If you go this route, prick the dough thoroughly with a fork after pressing it into the pan, refrigerate it for at least 15 minutes before baking, and slice it immediately after removing from the oven, while still warm.

The verdict:

4 spoons out of five. If you like shortbread, you'll love this- I'd give it more spoons, but, having a major sweet tooth and a need for frosting or at least chocolate in my desserts, shortbread is low on my list of faves. But this is the only shortbread I've ever had that tasted better the second day, when the texture seemed to mellow a bit more, meaning you can make it a day ahead (tonight!) and not worry about it going stale before you serve it tomorrow.

ONE YEAR AGO: TOLL HOUSE MARBLE SQUARES
TWO YEARS AGO: ASIAN CHICKEN TWO WAYS

the recipe:

Shortbread

the directions:

Preheat oven to 175C/350F.
Cream butter.
Add sugar gradually, beating well after each addition.
Cream until light and fluffy.
Blend in flour, baking powder and salt, mixing until a sandy mixture has formed.
Roll dough out on a well-floured surface- try to make it as thin as possible, about 1/3-inch (8.5mm).
Cut with a 2-inch round biscuit cutter.
(Alternately, pour dough into an 8-inch round pan, press flat, prick with a fork several times and bake as below).
Bake 12-15 minutes until biscuits are just starting to turn gold at the edges
As soon as shortbread comes out of the oven, decorate with candied cherries or mixed peel.
If using melted chocolate to decorate, allow cookies to cool fully first.

Makes approx. 20 cookies

the ingredients:

½ c (114g) butter
¼ c (29g) powdered sugar, sifted
1 c (120g) flour, sifted
1/8 tsp baking powder
1/8 tsp salt
Candied cherries, melted chocolate, or mixed peel to decorate