Ham, Ham–Wherefore Art Thou, Ham?

O Ham, Ham…Wherefore art Thou, Ham?                                                                                               By: Betsy Bearden

Since I am a vegetarian and have been for…well…for a very long time, anytime is always a good time for a vegetarian meal as far as I’m concerned. It’s just a way of life for me and my husband. So, over the 2009 holiday season, unbeknownst to all, my carnivorous side of the family was about to learn a very good, and a very valuable lesson.

Imagine, if you will, Christmas morning at your 85-year-old mother’s apartment. In which, by the way, had a thermostat that was set at 85 and the outside temperature was 72. I had arrived early that morning because Mama had been very ill and was still recovering. It was my duty to continue in her place to make the prized cornbread dressing (without adding sugar to the cornbread mix this time as I did at Thanksgiving, thank you, and it was perfection!).

I entered the small kitchen and set the oven at 400 degrees and placed the dressing inside it precisely at noon— whereupon I immediately opened the kitchen window and pulled off my sweater. I proceeded to put on the green beans and potatoes while waiting for the rest of the family to arrive. The festivities began as they arrived at the apartment and we greeted and visited with one another as everyone oohed and aahed at the great food each person had brought. We were all to meet at precisely 1:00 that afternoon, but something suddenly seemed to have gone quite awry. (Um, is it just me, or do I seem to be talking like Higgins on Magnum, P.I. all of a sudden?) Anyway, I digress. Moving on …

As if the holidays aren’t stressful enough with all the shopping, cooking, and gift-wrapping, relationships can also take their toll in the hustle and bustle of it all. We each had our own dishes to bring, but the crowning glory of the day, sad to say, was to be— said ham. I won’t mention the names of the couple that were supposed to be in charge of bringing the ham, but suffice it to say, they were having big time marital problems.

I had spoken to both of them on Christmas Eve, and was reassured they would be at Mama’s at 1:00. Since this is a family blog post, I can’t repeat what she-who- must-not-be-named said verbatim, but let’s just say she told me that she was driving home with the “big honkin ham” in the back seat of her car and was taking it home to prepare.   

My son, Eddie, had offered to bring the ham, but she-who-will-not-be-named, insisted upon bringing the free ham that her employer had given her. She further explained that she simply did not have the room in her freezer for “the thing.” We did not want to revisit the disaster that happened over Thanksgiving, where her employer gave her a turkey, but Eddie had already made the turkey, so we had two…turkeys. So, Eddie agreed he would not buy a ham, as she-who-will-not-be-named, was bringing one.

We went about our way, re-warming food in the microwave, placing it on the table, and stood there looking at it, wishing we could eat it, but the ham had not yet arrived. Mama called my brother and his wife’s cell phones, respectively: no answer. It was 1:30 by now, food was still being warmed, and re-warmed. Calls were being made again and again; no one answered. I snuck off to the bedroom and called my brother and told him that I hoped there had not been an accident, but the family would like to know if there will be ham!

It was about 1:45 by now, and people were getting desperate. I saw one of my family members standing at the front door looking out, in search of ham, and I could almost hear her breaking into soliloquy, “O Ham… Ham … Wherefore art thou—” Then someone asked me if there was a store nearby where they could go and purchase meat for dinner. I replied, “Well, CVS is close by, but I don’t think they will have much aside from cold cuts. I think there are a few pepperoni pizzas in Mama’s freezer. We could always take the pepperonis off, place them on a platter and serve them.”

Frustrated, I said, “Look, I think we should just go ahead and eat without the ham.” Gasps were made— the children started crying, the football game on the television came to a screeching halt and I swear a neighbor who lived two doors down fainted.  I continued to tell them that in my opinion, marital problems + no one answering their phones= “we pretty much ain’t gonna see any ham today.”

But you know, all in all, it worked out quite well and no one died from ham deprivation. There were many comments made regarding the fact that since we already had so much food, the ham was really not missed—that much. So, they did learn a valuable lesson that a vegetarian meal can be quite fulfilling. Imagine that? And my brother and his wife were quite all right and had not met with an accident, however, they are divorced now. And Eddie—sweet Eddie, he missed the ham so much, that he went out the next day, bought one, and cooked it for himself.

End

Betsy Bearden is a published writer and author. She has worked as a volunteer chef, cooking class instructor and as a reporter for The Paulding Neighbor Newspaper. You can reach her at betsybearden@bellsouth.net or visit her website where she offers writing services at www.creativewrites.net