I hate to admit this, but I may have actually started this little rebellion. On Monday, after having ham for dinner on Christmas, then again on Sunday, as well as having ham for lunch on Sunday and again on Monday, I told the family I was tired of ham and wanted to go out dinner Monday night. Once everyone was ready to go my wife and oldest daughter wimped out, claiming it was too cold to go out. So there I was staring leftover ham in the eye once again.
I refused to acquiesce and decided we were having jambalaya instead. I must admit I make a pretty passable jambalaya if I do say so myself, at least when I get a little help from my friend, Zatarain.® Still, my youngest daughter refused to eat it and satisfied herself with a PB&J.
We decided to save the ham for today, slice it up, cook it in Bar-B-Que sauce and have BBQ Ham sandwiches for dinner tonight. Or so I thought.
Then I got this plaintive phone call just before leaving work this afternoon. It was my wife. Could I go by Olympia and pick up some gyros for supper?
What? I thought we were going to have Bar-B-Que’d ham?
Oh please! Oh please! she begged. Seems no one at home wanted ham again.
That’s the problem when there are only four people around for big festive celebrations. We had similar problems at Thanksgiving, only with Turkey. And that was after wrestling the smallest bird in the bin from some gal who thought she could beat me to it. Amateur.
So tonight we had gyros. I have to admit I enjoyed them much more than I would have the ham.
But there is still something of the pork persuasion lurking in my fridge. Waiting. For tomorrow.