Free Nigella Bites by Nigella Lawson Page B

oven to 240°C/gas mark 9.
    When the ham’s had its time (and ham it is, now it’s cooked, though it’s true Americans call it ham from its uncooked state) take it out of the pan (but do NOT throw away the cooking liquid) and let cool a little for ease of handling. (Indeed, you can let it cool completely then finish off the cooking at some later stage if you want.) Then remove the skin, leaving a thin layer of fat. Score the fat with a sharp knife to make fairly large diamond shapes, and stud each diamond with a clove. Then carefully spread the treacle over the bark-budded skin, taking care not to dislodge the cloves. Gently pat the mustard and sugar onto the sticky fat. Cook in a foil-lined roasting tin for approximately 10 minutes or until the glaze is burnished and bubbly.
    Should you want to do the braising stage in advance and then let the ham cool, clove and glaze it and give it 30–40 minutes, from room temperature, at 180°C/gas mark 4, turning up the heat towards the end if you think it needs it.
    This is seriously fabulous with anything, but the eggily golden sweetcorn pudding that follows is perfect: ham and eggs Southern style.
    SWEETCORN PUDDING
    This isn’t pudding as in dessert, but as in rich, heavy, airless soufflé. I suppose there’s nothing to stop you separating the eggs, whisking the whites and turning this into a lighter, frothier affair, but there is most definitely no call. This is easy to make, toothsome and comforting to eat, and I have Gabbie de Jersey to thank for it.
    There’s something particularly gratifying in specifying a can of cream-style sweetcorn in a recipe, but then I have a great sentimental affection for it. When I was about twelve, it was my idea of gastronomic heaven. And needless to say, children love this: thrown together, in smaller quantities to be sure, and paired with some slices of shop-bought ham, it makes for a simple, stress-free tea, one that’s likely to be eaten, not pushed whiningly to the side of the plate.
    Serves 8.
    5 eggs
    510g can sweetcorn, drained
    418g can creamed sweetcorn
    300ml full-fat milk
    300ml double cream
    60g plain flour
    ½ teaspoon baking powder
    ½ teaspoon salt
    Preheat the oven to 190°C/gas mark 5 and butter an ovenproof dish – and I use my old, scuffed Pyrex one which measures 33 x 25cm.
    Whisk the eggs in a large bowl, and then add, beating unenergetically, all the other ingredients. Pour into the buttered dish and cook for about an hour, by which time it should have set within and puffed up slightly on the top.
    SOUTH-BEACH BLACK BEAN SOUP
    This soup bears the name of one in How to Eat, but is very different in composition. There are fewer ingredients in it and fewer demands on the cook who makes it. But how could I lose such a title – in this chapter of all places?
    The point about this is that it provides a way of using up the sweet, dark liquor that the Coke-cooked ham has left behind. I know I’m extravagant but, as I’m so fond of intoning, I’m never wasteful, and this is a rewarding way of satisfying my need to use up every last thing in the kitchen. It’s not as if you need to make the soup right away; by all means freeze the stock for future soups if you want. In terms of flavour, I dare say it could be used for a variety of soups, but there is an aesthetic factor to be considered – which isn’t the same thing as being queeny about presentation. The point about black beans is that they’re black: what do they care about the colour of the stock they’re simmered in? If anything, the sludgy darkness of this liquid enhances their muddy glory.
    I never soak black beans: just make sure that when you cook them they get their 10 toxin-destroying minutes of vociferous boiling and you’re away.
    Serves 8.
    500g black beans
    Coca-Cola ham stock from recipe above
    juice of ½ lime
    1 teaspoon ground cumin
    1 teaspoon ground coriander
    to serve:
    sour cream
    fresh coriander, chopped
    lime wedges
    Cook the black beans in the