Easter Eats.

Mr. Hawthorne apparently picked up the largest ham he could find the other day for his Easter meal.

It's a 10-pound smoked Smithfield bone-in ham that he bought in spite of Pauler, but then he doesn't know Pauler shills for Smithfield now. And probably wouldn't care if he did know. He likes Smithfield hams. Bottom line. And remember - the kids are gone and there are only the 3 of us now. We don't need a 10-pound ham.

Mr Hawthorne wanted a rub for the ham so I selected an array of spices which he first smelled, then approved. We have: ginger smoked paprika cinnamon allspice ground cloves dried mustard brown sugar

Mr. Hawthorne mixed all by hand.

He then vigorously rubbed the spice rub into the ham. The scored ham went into a 325 degree oven with a tepee on top for 1 hour and 40 minutes at which time Mr. Hawthorne took it out to glaze it. First, the glaze:

Mr. Hawthorne hadn't used all his spice rub mixture so he added a bit of orange blossom honey to it. Now, you don't have to use orange blossom honey. This is where I want people who read my blog and are basically uncomfortable about cooking and following directions to understand one thing: You Can Substitute. No orange blossom honey? Use whatever honey you have. Maybe add some orange juice and/or zest. No honey? Use corn syrup. No corn syrup? Use sugar. No sugar? Then learn how to properly stock your damn kitchen.

Then he added in some molasses. And if you didn't have the last ingredients then I know you don't have molasses. So, just forget whatever I said about substitutions. Go to the store, properly stock your pantry, then come back and we'll talk.

Mix the spice rub mixture with the honey and molasses until you have a clingy-type consistency.

Mr. Hawthorne took the scored ham out

after his freakin' 1 hour and 40 minutes and brushed the glaze over top and inserted the digital probe. He's upset because I wrote down 2 hours first. I'm trying to make it easy for everybody and make it an even number. But he got all anal about it. And we just bickered about that (Heh. I like bickering.) and then he asked the forbidden question, "Are you taking your pills?" Don't they know they're just asking for it when they do that? I mean that just opens up a whole new can of worms. Reminds me of the time I was not taking my pills and we were driving to the pharmacy, arguing, and he went in to pick up my scrips and came out with the bag of chemicals and a CUP OF WATER for me. Bastard. Reminds me of the Everybody Loves Raymond episode when Debra was PMS'ing and Ray went to the drug store and brought back all sorts of OTC PMS medications for her. She's reading the descriptions on the boxes - for bloating, headaches, swelling, anxiety, nervousness, etc., then Debra just looks disgustedly at Raymond and says, "But Ray, it doesn't say BITCHY here." And poor Raymond just says, "I think you might need a prescription for bitchy." Scene. Cut. I asked Mr. Hawthorne about the "ill effects" of chemical imbalances. He glossed over: subtle micro-short-tempered in the beginning, turning into super-hyper anxiousness, not to be confused with the anxiety that comes later, and apparently I have etchings in my brain, waiting to get the stimulus, the undefinable trigger, and then the brain that goes back to Cave Woman Days. All that in about 5 seconds But I digress.

He took the ham out when it reached 150 degrees, about 2 1/2 hours later after the first 1 hour and 40 freakin' minutes.

My favorite parts were the glazed, spiced-rubbed scored tops.

Now, while he's cooking the ham for 4 hours and 10 minutes

(Read: Watching 2 movies), I'm scurrying around, cooking, cleaning, washing, vacuuming, watering, and blahhhhhhhging (He makes the word "blogging" sound like a cat hacking up a fur ball, and I say this with utter respect to Hairball.), and making the biscuits.

I took out the herbed biscuit dough leftover from my Easter Bunny Pie last night.

I rolled it out until it was a little thicker than my big finger.

Then I dipped my fluted biscuit cutter in flour and cut out my little biscuits.

That last abnormal, misshapen biscuit at bottom left was the last of the dough pressed together and semi-cut out. Tip: Having the biscuits close together helps them rise more during cooking.

I baked these in my dual microwave/convection oven at 375 degrees, since my ham was cooking in my regular oven. 15 minutes.

Closeup of my light, flaky, puffy biscuit.

Needs a bit of butter.

Lovely melted butter.

Lovely little ham biscuit. Yay! Youngest Hawthorne just called. Apparently on the way home. I looked at the caller ID and saw it was he and answered, "Yes, I have food here." "Uhhh, I'll be there in a few minutes." Heh. I know these kids so well. He came in and ate all my biscuits and copious amounts of ham and potato salad.

Happy Easter all!