- Photo: Danguole Lekaviciute
BACK IN THE NOT-SO-OLD days, I worked at the daily newspaper just north of the Columbia River, a place where it was entirely appropriate to give a Christmas “bonus” of HoneyBaked Hams—vegetarians, Muslims, and Jews be damned.
From those gifts arose HAMping, a now annual tradition whereupon a large ham travels to a campsite to be eaten in all manners for a weekend (please use Bubba from Forrest Gump’s voice here): ham sandwiches, ham and eggs, plain ham, ham and lentil soup, and yes, an unsuccessful rum and pineapple concoction with a ham wedge as a garnish. Ham is life; the rest is just details.
My love for Hamlet was a foregone conclusion. This Instagrammable bar on NW 12th—with endlessly repeating black and white subway tiles, tall chairs, and sleek booths—even manages to make an incredibly refreshing ham-centric cocktail.
Opened in May by Nostrana Chef Cathy Whims, bartender Ryan Magarian and ChefStable’s Kurt Huffman, Hamlet is a snack-plate-sized spot where you can rendezvous with salty protein and ambitious drinks for pre-game or late night. Make no mistake: This is a $12 cocktail and $18 for an ounce of ham zone. But the payoff is real. That $18 will get you one ounce of thin, hand-carved jamón de ibérico—the fatty, acorny, supple crown jewel of Spain that is the best ham on the planet. Pair it with one of the excellently curated dry sherries and feel terribly continental for $30, even if your passport has expired.
