As different from canned ham as espresso is from Sanka, country ham is the aristocrat of pig meat. It delivers a haymaker salty punch, but it also is exquisite and complex. Like veined cheese, sourdough bread, and vintage wine, it tickles taste buds by teetering toward the refined side of rot. It usually is sliced wafer-thin.
Country ham stars at breakfast. The Loveless Cafe serves it with red-eye gravy, grits, eggs, biscuits, and house-made preserves.
Country ham is revered throughout the South, where artisans rub the whole ham with salt (sometimes sugar or pepper), then cure it while it sheds moisture and its flavor magnifies. Traditional producers age hams a minimum of six months, and some will keep a few special ones hung up for years. To connoisseurs, the older the ham, the finer its character. Some hams are hickory-smoked, giving them a softer taste, but even they are imbued with such concentrated piggy potency that a mild-mannered plate partner is essential. Sandwiched inside a fluffy buttermilk biscuit, country ham sings. In concert with a serving of sweet stewed apples or tomatoes, it’s symphonic.
Breakfast at the Southern Kitchen, New Market, Virginia. Whole hams are available for sale at the cash register.
King of breakfast sandwiches: a ham biscuit.