Even though I grew up Jewish and this is true my nickname growing up among my friends was Hambone, and this is entirely because of how much I love ham.

Its not a dish I got to eat too often at family events. I used to finagle my way to Easter dinners and holiday meals just to behold the spectacle of a spiral-cut ham. Once, when I was younger, I saw a recipe on the Food Network featuring Alton Brown , ham and Dr. Pepper , which were, at the time, my favorite three things.

On a trip through the American Southwest with my family as a kid, I fell in love, hard, with Dr. Pepper, which has an alleged 23 different flavors. The flavor of Dr. Pepper offers a compelling, almost savory depth thats not like Coke or Pepsi, and, of course, not like Sprite or 7UP, and when you pair it with something as salty and rich as ham, it becomes another thing altogether.

Dr. Pepper was created, as it happens, by an actual doctor. The drink was the brainchild of a pharmacist Charles Alderton of Waco, Texas. Alderton developed the drink in the late 1800s as a sort of digestive aid. Medical claims were later abandoned, of course, but the Dr. name stuck. Over 100 years later, Dr. Pepper still commands a loyal following, particularly in Texas.

In the north, where Im from, you dont necessarily find a lot of steadfast Dr. Pepper drinkers (dont get me started on Moxie , which comes from Maine). But a couple of years ago, I got it in my head that Dr. Pepper was going to be my new holiday thing, and so I started experimenting with glazes and brines, reductions, and more. With its 23 mysterious flavors, many of which are still undisclosed over a century later, its hard to know exactly how to manipulate Dr. Pepper to make it the way you want it.

Its a little medicinal, a lot sweet. Its syrupy by nature, even more so when cooked down. At its finest, its almost herbaceous, with notes of stewed fruit, cherry, licorice, amaretto, birch, blackberry, apricot, nutmeg and cardamom.

A ham can be served with many sweetened glazes to bring out the contrast between the saltiness of its meat and fat and the sweetness of whatever you choose to serve against it. But Dr. Pepper, in its basic simplicity, its sinfulness, its Americana this, to me, is an effortless and perfect option.

I dont favor a glaze of anything but Dr. Pepper anymore. Years of cooking have taught me balance, and a good Dr. Pepper glaze needs sweet, but salty, too, with umami on the back palate, and a little bit of bite from garlic. Soy sauce. Sugar, for caramelization. Dijon mustard. All of it.

But once it has come together and cooked, crackling on the edge of that holiday ham like brown beach glass, youll wonder, in earnest, how you ever thought to cook with any other single ingredient when it came to ham; how you didnt know the secret of the good, good doctor.