Job: Glaze master and store general manager, Honeybaked Ham, Marietta
What I do: If an important part of the dining experience is presentation, Chris Gray really knows how to put on a show. As glaze master at the Honeybaked Ham store he manages on Dallas Highway in west Cobb County, he's front and center with a blowtorch in the "glazing theater." Customers and passers-by can watch as he glazes hams for Easter, Christmas and other holidays -- or just for dinner.
"At this store, you see the process of how we glaze hams," said Gray, 28. "Kids are fascinated. They peek over the counter."
Even if you haven't been to the company's first concept store, you may have seen Gray's work on television, in advertisements and in company catalogs. He's the one who prepares the food to be photographed.
The process is quite simple, just a more theatrical version of what the store has been doing in the back room for years.
First, the glaze master puts the ham onto a glazing ring. He sprinkles on glazing base -- mostly sugar, which gives the ham its crunchy, sweet, caramelized crust -- as he heats the ham and glaze with the blowtorch. He constantly sprinkles and heats until the bubbling, sweet syrup drips off the ham. Then he adds a small amount of a secret combination of spices to give it a distinctive flavor. The whole process takes six to 10 minutes.
When the ham is done, it's wrapped in foil and allowed to cool overnight.
"It adds an extra dimension to the business," Gray said. "It's like the old pizzerias," where the pizza maker would spin the dough by hand in front of his customers.
What got me interested in this: Gray was a student at a technical school when he went to work at a restaurant as a cook. "I fell in love with it," he said, and enjoyed the camaraderie with the staff and owners of the small restaurant.
He enrolled in the culinary art program at the Art Institute of Atlanta, where he graduated.
Gray left the restaurant business "to find another art form" and became a butcher at a grocery store chain. When Honeybaked Ham approached him about a job, he made the switch. "I get to flex my brain," he said.
Best part of my job: "Glazing hams for our customers -- seeing families come in, marveling at how the process is done." Until the company started the glazing theater in its concept store, the process had been out of sight.
Most challenging part: "The holidays," Gray said. Thanksgiving and Christmas are the busiest, and his store is getting ready for its first Easter, another traditional ham holiday.
"Coming from a store three times this size, with the smaller lobby, it's a challenge to get all the customers in here." But, he said, "I like the challenge. I can say I was able to accomplish it."
What people don't know about my job: Glazing a ham involves a blowtorch. Even with the demonstrations out front, Gray said there is still plenty of work going on in the back, including glazing many more hams at a faster pace, slicing them and cleaning them up.
All the company's hams are pre-smoked, so neither the store nor the customer has to cook them.
What keeps me going: "My family," he said. Gray said the retail business has much more family-friendly hours than restaurants, so he can spend more time with his wife and two small children. He also described the company as being like a family. "They listen to your ideas," he said.
Preparation needed for this job: You have to find your rhythm while glazing hams, Gray said. After several dozen glazings a day, his left arm -- the one that holds the torch -- can get sore.
Glaze masters are selected from store personnel and trained on site. "It's an art form," Gray explained, saying that not everyone can do it well. A culinary arts degree can help with managing a store, but it's not mandatory, he said.
His staff increases from a normal five or six people to a holiday staff of as many as 50. Employees need to like dealing with the public and customer service.
"And you've got to be a foodie," he added.
- By Karl W. Ritzler, for ajcjobs. Got an interesting job that you love? E-mail your story to jobseditor@ajc.com.