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Val’s Glazed Ham

This is my glazed ham recipe, and I often see people pouring syrupy glazes over hot hams that haven’t had time to cool off first. It leads to a lot of basting, a lot of opening and closing the oven door, puffing, panting… and a lot of stress. So, how to cook a ham? Here we go – but first, there are two ways to cook a green or cold-smoked ham: oven roast or poach. I’m opting for poaching, as it provides a delicious and plentiful stock that can be used for gravy or any other cooking in the days that follow.

Prep time: 30 minutes

Cook time: 2 hours 30 minutes

Ingredients

Method

Poaching Your Ham

  1. Lower your ham into a large pot of cold water, ensuring it’s fully submerged. Add four sticks of celery, one leek, 2 bay leaves, and 8 peppercorns around it. There’s no need to add salt to the water. Poach gently – it should barely simmer, more like a gentle wobble – with the lid on, topping up with boiling water as needed. Note: Using a lid is helpful, but be cautious, as it can quickly turn a simmer into a boil without you noticing, so keep checking.
  2. Avoid cooking by time alone, as cooking temperatures vary greatly between kitchens. It’s best to use a meat thermometer or probe for accuracy. Aim for an internal temperature of 66°C before removing the ham from the water. This should take roughly 70-90 minutes. Once removed, the ham will continue to cook, with its internal temperature rising to a perfect end-point of around 70-72°C.
  3. Allow the ham to cool completely.

Glazing Your Ham

  1. Carefully cut away the rind, leaving as much of the fat on top as possible. Score the fat about half a centimetre deep in a diamond criss-cross pattern, with each square about the size of a postage stamp. Insert a clove into the centre of each diamond.
  2. Preheat your grill to high, ensuring the shelf isn’t too close to the element. Line a baking tray with foil (to prevent burning) and place the ham on top, fat-side up.
  3. Mix the mustard powder, ground coriander, salt, and pepper, and dust the ham well, ensuring it lands on the fat, not the work surface. Pat the mixture down lightly. Evenly sprinkle the sugar over the top, followed by 4 tablespoons of honey, trailing it across the surface.
  4. Place the ham under the grill with the door slightly open. After about 6 minutes, when the sugars are bubbling and browning well, drizzle over another spoonful of honey. If any sections are under-browned, use scrunched tin foil to prop them up closer to the grill.
  5. Reserve the last spoonful of honey until the ham is nearly done. Once browned to your liking, remove it from the grill. Warning: Over-browning can create a hard sugar crust that makes slicing difficult.
  6. Your ham is now ready to slice and serve.

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Instagram

  • What salt should you use when cooking steaks and chops? Does it matter?

Well, we have, in the past, taken some heat in the comments from people saying that we are using the wrong salt on our steaks. “You should be using fine salt!”, “flaky salt on steaks!! NO WAY!”, “It just falls off!”, to give you a few examples. 

So, to put the debate to bed we undertook an extremely controlled, scientific experiment to determine which salt is the best salt to use on your steaks. In a field, with a piece of goose skirt, a barbecue and two varieties of sea salt (that’s one important detail, to use sea salt, not table salt) and a desire to eat well seasoned steak. Poor us!

Watch the video to find our conclusions, which will also feature in an academic journal soon – a seminal piece of scientific research. 

#sodiyum #flakysalt4life
  • A recent visit to see Ed Stavely’s pigs on the Swinton Estate, where a landscape not traditionally associated with pig keeping is slowly being reshaped through careful management and a willingness to do things a little differently.

The pigs are largely native breeds, often crossed with Duroc to help them fare better through the long Yorkshire winters and the exposed conditions up on the estate. Hardy, slow-growing animals that seem to suit both the land and the philosophy behind the system.

They are part of a wider effort to restore ground that had, in places, drifted too far from balance. Their rooting clears rougher areas, disturbs the soil naturally and creates opportunities for new herbal lays, healthier pasture and eventually species-rich hay meadows to return.

There are certainly easier places to rear pigs, but it is difficult not to admire the determination to make this sort of farming work in a landscape like this, where the focus stretches beyond production alone and towards the long-term health of the land itself.
  • Take a little inspiration from our very own grill master @grylos when it comes to cooking your big, bone in steaks. This method takes time, skill and plenty of patience but the result is a deep, dark char, beautiful blushing pink flesh and melting buttery fat. We can safely say, after this day we spent in the field, that it is well worth the effort. Close to steak perfection. 

Plus, he knocked up a charred spring vegetable green sauce, which was an ideal foil for that most delicious of steaks – clever boy. 

The idea is to spend time building a char and crust with many short visits to the hottest part of the grill, interspersed with time away from the grill, somewhere warm, slowly coming up to temperature. Placing it directly on the coals at the end is a bit of a gimmick, however, it did yield excellent results, so maybe give it a go (only if you have good quality charcoal though!)!

Steak perfection!!
  • To our friends down south, you might have noticed Yorkshire is still a good few weeks behind the march towards summer. The trees are only just coming into leaf in the Dales, especially up in Upper Wharfedale, and that gives us a little more time with the wild garlic.

Here is @grylos with what feels like one of his best ideas to date.

A proper use of those essential carcass balance cuts. Lamb hearts, though this would work just as well with tongues, sweetbreads or liver. Cooked simply, well seasoned, finished with a little lemon.

Alongside it, wild garlic taken from the darker, shaded parts of the woodland where it is still fresh. Even if it has started to turn, it holds up. Treated like spinach, wilted down, then cooked with oil, salt and cream, left to reduce until it becomes rich and full of flavour.

A brilliant little starter for our chefs blackboards, and something that will more than hold its own at home.

A dish for the season, if ever there was one.
  • We are reaching the end of our wild garlic sausages, as the season begins to slip away and only the deeper, shaded pockets of woodland still offer the tender leaves we rely on.

It is from these cooler, quieter areas that we are still able to gather what we need, though even here the plants are beginning to turn, and once the flowers arrive, the flavour shifts and our time with wild garlic comes to a close for another year.

As ever, we follow the season rather than stretch it, working with what is left while it is still at its best, which means if you have been enjoying them, or have been meaning to try them, now is the time to cook them or put a few aside for later.

Before long, they will be gone, and we will wait for spring to bring them back again.
  • A while back we had the pleasure of visiting @petea25 at the @cantonarms Arms, where we spoke about their ever evolving menu, a place that is not afraid to cook things until they are gone and then move on to something new.

We saw how they treated the Swaledale pork chop, and it told you everything you needed to know. Cooked with care, handled properly, and full of flavour.

It was, simply, delicious.
  • Here’s our Trevor, stood in front of an expertly butchered sirloin section.

Porterhouse, T bone, Wing rib, New York strip, fillet, sirloin.

All cut from the same part of the animal, each one offering something slightly different.

Key question is; which one are you taking?
  • The Dales never hurry themselves into spring, and this year is no different. You can drive through them and still feel winter holding on, yet something has shifted all the same.

It begins quietly. Hawthorn shows along the hedgerows, just enough to catch the eye. The grass is lifting, the fields softening, losing that tired, flattened look they carry through the colder months.

Out on the land, the change is clearer. Lambs are scattered across the fields, finding their feet, while cattle have been turned back out and settle easily into the pasture. There is a rhythm to it again, a sense that the farms are beginning to move.

Nothing arrives all at once. It comes on steadily, almost cautiously, as the land turns back to life.
What salt should you use when cooking steaks and chops? Does it matter? Well, we have, in the past, taken some heat in the comments from people saying that we are using the wrong salt on our steaks. “You should be using fine salt!”, “flaky salt on steaks!! NO WAY!”, “It just falls off!”, to give you a few examples. So, to put the debate to bed we undertook an extremely controlled, scientific experiment to determine which salt is the best salt to use on your steaks. In a field, with a piece of goose skirt, a barbecue and two varieties of sea salt (that’s one important detail, to use sea salt, not table salt) and a desire to eat well seasoned steak. Poor us! Watch the video to find our conclusions, which will also feature in an academic journal soon – a seminal piece of scientific research. #sodiyum #flakysalt4life
2 days ago
11615
View on Instagram |
1/8
A recent visit to see Ed Stavely’s pigs on the Swinton Estate, where a landscape not traditionally associated with pig keeping is slowly being reshaped through careful management and a willingness to do things a little differently.

The pigs are largely native breeds, often crossed with Duroc to help them fare better through the long Yorkshire winters and the exposed conditions up on the estate. Hardy, slow-growing animals that seem to suit both the land and the philosophy behind the system.

They are part of a wider effort to restore ground that had, in places, drifted too far from balance. Their rooting clears rougher areas, disturbs the soil naturally and creates opportunities for new herbal lays, healthier pasture and eventually species-rich hay meadows to return.

There are certainly easier places to rear pigs, but it is difficult not to admire the determination to make this sort of farming work in a landscape like this, where the focus stretches beyond production alone and towards the long-term health of the land itself.
A recent visit to see Ed Stavely’s pigs on the Swinton Estate, where a landscape not traditionally associated with pig keeping is slowly being reshaped through careful management and a willingness to do things a little differently.

The pigs are largely native breeds, often crossed with Duroc to help them fare better through the long Yorkshire winters and the exposed conditions up on the estate. Hardy, slow-growing animals that seem to suit both the land and the philosophy behind the system.

They are part of a wider effort to restore ground that had, in places, drifted too far from balance. Their rooting clears rougher areas, disturbs the soil naturally and creates opportunities for new herbal lays, healthier pasture and eventually species-rich hay meadows to return.

There are certainly easier places to rear pigs, but it is difficult not to admire the determination to make this sort of farming work in a landscape like this, where the focus stretches beyond production alone and towards the long-term health of the land itself.
A recent visit to see Ed Stavely’s pigs on the Swinton Estate, where a landscape not traditionally associated with pig keeping is slowly being reshaped through careful management and a willingness to do things a little differently.

The pigs are largely native breeds, often crossed with Duroc to help them fare better through the long Yorkshire winters and the exposed conditions up on the estate. Hardy, slow-growing animals that seem to suit both the land and the philosophy behind the system.

They are part of a wider effort to restore ground that had, in places, drifted too far from balance. Their rooting clears rougher areas, disturbs the soil naturally and creates opportunities for new herbal lays, healthier pasture and eventually species-rich hay meadows to return.

There are certainly easier places to rear pigs, but it is difficult not to admire the determination to make this sort of farming work in a landscape like this, where the focus stretches beyond production alone and towards the long-term health of the land itself.
A recent visit to see Ed Stavely’s pigs on the Swinton Estate, where a landscape not traditionally associated with pig keeping is slowly being reshaped through careful management and a willingness to do things a little differently.

The pigs are largely native breeds, often crossed with Duroc to help them fare better through the long Yorkshire winters and the exposed conditions up on the estate. Hardy, slow-growing animals that seem to suit both the land and the philosophy behind the system.

They are part of a wider effort to restore ground that had, in places, drifted too far from balance. Their rooting clears rougher areas, disturbs the soil naturally and creates opportunities for new herbal lays, healthier pasture and eventually species-rich hay meadows to return.

There are certainly easier places to rear pigs, but it is difficult not to admire the determination to make this sort of farming work in a landscape like this, where the focus stretches beyond production alone and towards the long-term health of the land itself.
A recent visit to see Ed Stavely’s pigs on the Swinton Estate, where a landscape not traditionally associated with pig keeping is slowly being reshaped through careful management and a willingness to do things a little differently. The pigs are largely native breeds, often crossed with Duroc to help them fare better through the long Yorkshire winters and the exposed conditions up on the estate. Hardy, slow-growing animals that seem to suit both the land and the philosophy behind the system. They are part of a wider effort to restore ground that had, in places, drifted too far from balance. Their rooting clears rougher areas, disturbs the soil naturally and creates opportunities for new herbal lays, healthier pasture and eventually species-rich hay meadows to return. There are certainly easier places to rear pigs, but it is difficult not to admire the determination to make this sort of farming work in a landscape like this, where the focus stretches beyond production alone and towards the long-term health of the land itself.
1 week ago
401
View on Instagram |
2/8
Take a little inspiration from our very own grill master @grylos when it comes to cooking your big, bone in steaks. This method takes time, skill and plenty of patience but the result is a deep, dark char, beautiful blushing pink flesh and melting buttery fat. We can safely say, after this day we spent in the field, that it is well worth the effort. Close to steak perfection. Plus, he knocked up a charred spring vegetable green sauce, which was an ideal foil for that most delicious of steaks – clever boy. The idea is to spend time building a char and crust with many short visits to the hottest part of the grill, interspersed with time away from the grill, somewhere warm, slowly coming up to temperature. Placing it directly on the coals at the end is a bit of a gimmick, however, it did yield excellent results, so maybe give it a go (only if you have good quality charcoal though!)! Steak perfection!!
3 weeks ago
1,23732
View on Instagram |
3/8
To our friends down south, you might have noticed Yorkshire is still a good few weeks behind the march towards summer. The trees are only just coming into leaf in the Dales, especially up in Upper Wharfedale, and that gives us a little more time with the wild garlic. Here is @grylos with what feels like one of his best ideas to date. A proper use of those essential carcass balance cuts. Lamb hearts, though this would work just as well with tongues, sweetbreads or liver. Cooked simply, well seasoned, finished with a little lemon. Alongside it, wild garlic taken from the darker, shaded parts of the woodland where it is still fresh. Even if it has started to turn, it holds up. Treated like spinach, wilted down, then cooked with oil, salt and cream, left to reduce until it becomes rich and full of flavour. A brilliant little starter for our chefs blackboards, and something that will more than hold its own at home. A dish for the season, if ever there was one.
3 weeks ago
1829
View on Instagram |
4/8
We are reaching the end of our wild garlic sausages, as the season begins to slip away and only the deeper, shaded pockets of woodland still offer the tender leaves we rely on.

It is from these cooler, quieter areas that we are still able to gather what we need, though even here the plants are beginning to turn, and once the flowers arrive, the flavour shifts and our time with wild garlic comes to a close for another year.

As ever, we follow the season rather than stretch it, working with what is left while it is still at its best, which means if you have been enjoying them, or have been meaning to try them, now is the time to cook them or put a few aside for later.

Before long, they will be gone, and we will wait for spring to bring them back again.
We are reaching the end of our wild garlic sausages, as the season begins to slip away and only the deeper, shaded pockets of woodland still offer the tender leaves we rely on.

It is from these cooler, quieter areas that we are still able to gather what we need, though even here the plants are beginning to turn, and once the flowers arrive, the flavour shifts and our time with wild garlic comes to a close for another year.

As ever, we follow the season rather than stretch it, working with what is left while it is still at its best, which means if you have been enjoying them, or have been meaning to try them, now is the time to cook them or put a few aside for later.

Before long, they will be gone, and we will wait for spring to bring them back again.
We are reaching the end of our wild garlic sausages, as the season begins to slip away and only the deeper, shaded pockets of woodland still offer the tender leaves we rely on.

It is from these cooler, quieter areas that we are still able to gather what we need, though even here the plants are beginning to turn, and once the flowers arrive, the flavour shifts and our time with wild garlic comes to a close for another year.

As ever, we follow the season rather than stretch it, working with what is left while it is still at its best, which means if you have been enjoying them, or have been meaning to try them, now is the time to cook them or put a few aside for later.

Before long, they will be gone, and we will wait for spring to bring them back again.
We are reaching the end of our wild garlic sausages, as the season begins to slip away and only the deeper, shaded pockets of woodland still offer the tender leaves we rely on. It is from these cooler, quieter areas that we are still able to gather what we need, though even here the plants are beginning to turn, and once the flowers arrive, the flavour shifts and our time with wild garlic comes to a close for another year. As ever, we follow the season rather than stretch it, working with what is left while it is still at its best, which means if you have been enjoying them, or have been meaning to try them, now is the time to cook them or put a few aside for later. Before long, they will be gone, and we will wait for spring to bring them back again.
4 weeks ago
751
View on Instagram |
5/8
A while back we had the pleasure of visiting @petea25 at the @cantonarms Arms, where we spoke about their ever evolving menu, a place that is not afraid to cook things until they are gone and then move on to something new. We saw how they treated the Swaledale pork chop, and it told you everything you needed to know. Cooked with care, handled properly, and full of flavour. It was, simply, delicious.
1 month ago
37810
View on Instagram |
6/8
Here’s our Trevor, stood in front of an expertly butchered sirloin section.

Porterhouse, T bone, Wing rib, New York strip, fillet, sirloin.

All cut from the same part of the animal, each one offering something slightly different.

Key question is; which one are you taking?
Here’s our Trevor, stood in front of an expertly butchered sirloin section. Porterhouse, T bone, Wing rib, New York strip, fillet, sirloin. All cut from the same part of the animal, each one offering something slightly different. Key question is; which one are you taking?
1 month ago
601
View on Instagram |
7/8
The Dales never hurry themselves into spring, and this year is no different. You can drive through them and still feel winter holding on, yet something has shifted all the same.

It begins quietly. Hawthorn shows along the hedgerows, just enough to catch the eye. The grass is lifting, the fields softening, losing that tired, flattened look they carry through the colder months.

Out on the land, the change is clearer. Lambs are scattered across the fields, finding their feet, while cattle have been turned back out and settle easily into the pasture. There is a rhythm to it again, a sense that the farms are beginning to move.

Nothing arrives all at once. It comes on steadily, almost cautiously, as the land turns back to life.
The Dales never hurry themselves into spring, and this year is no different. You can drive through them and still feel winter holding on, yet something has shifted all the same.

It begins quietly. Hawthorn shows along the hedgerows, just enough to catch the eye. The grass is lifting, the fields softening, losing that tired, flattened look they carry through the colder months.

Out on the land, the change is clearer. Lambs are scattered across the fields, finding their feet, while cattle have been turned back out and settle easily into the pasture. There is a rhythm to it again, a sense that the farms are beginning to move.

Nothing arrives all at once. It comes on steadily, almost cautiously, as the land turns back to life.
The Dales never hurry themselves into spring, and this year is no different. You can drive through them and still feel winter holding on, yet something has shifted all the same.

It begins quietly. Hawthorn shows along the hedgerows, just enough to catch the eye. The grass is lifting, the fields softening, losing that tired, flattened look they carry through the colder months.

Out on the land, the change is clearer. Lambs are scattered across the fields, finding their feet, while cattle have been turned back out and settle easily into the pasture. There is a rhythm to it again, a sense that the farms are beginning to move.

Nothing arrives all at once. It comes on steadily, almost cautiously, as the land turns back to life.
The Dales never hurry themselves into spring, and this year is no different. You can drive through them and still feel winter holding on, yet something has shifted all the same.

It begins quietly. Hawthorn shows along the hedgerows, just enough to catch the eye. The grass is lifting, the fields softening, losing that tired, flattened look they carry through the colder months.

Out on the land, the change is clearer. Lambs are scattered across the fields, finding their feet, while cattle have been turned back out and settle easily into the pasture. There is a rhythm to it again, a sense that the farms are beginning to move.

Nothing arrives all at once. It comes on steadily, almost cautiously, as the land turns back to life.
The Dales never hurry themselves into spring, and this year is no different. You can drive through them and still feel winter holding on, yet something has shifted all the same.

It begins quietly. Hawthorn shows along the hedgerows, just enough to catch the eye. The grass is lifting, the fields softening, losing that tired, flattened look they carry through the colder months.

Out on the land, the change is clearer. Lambs are scattered across the fields, finding their feet, while cattle have been turned back out and settle easily into the pasture. There is a rhythm to it again, a sense that the farms are beginning to move.

Nothing arrives all at once. It comes on steadily, almost cautiously, as the land turns back to life.
The Dales never hurry themselves into spring, and this year is no different. You can drive through them and still feel winter holding on, yet something has shifted all the same. It begins quietly. Hawthorn shows along the hedgerows, just enough to catch the eye. The grass is lifting, the fields softening, losing that tired, flattened look they carry through the colder months. Out on the land, the change is clearer. Lambs are scattered across the fields, finding their feet, while cattle have been turned back out and settle easily into the pasture. There is a rhythm to it again, a sense that the farms are beginning to move. Nothing arrives all at once. It comes on steadily, almost cautiously, as the land turns back to life.
1 month ago
491
View on Instagram |
8/8