JAMON IBERICO DE BELLOTA: UP CLOSE AND PERSONAL WITH "OLIVES ON LEGS"

It is hard to believe, looking at these images that my trip to Extremadura took place over two months ago. The memories of that all too fleeting visit are as vivid now as they were the day I returned.

Why, you may well ask, did I leave it so long to post about my trip to the home of Jamon Iberico? The answer is simply a matter of courtesy. Some of you may have seen the corresponding feature that appeared in the Guardian.co.uk yesterday and I always feel that if someone is going to pay me cold hard cash to write about something, it is only decent to let them have their go before I post about it on the blog.

The delay does not matter however, because if I close my eyes, I can still savour every moment of my time spent in the farmhouse of Felipe Perez Corcho in the small town of Burguillos del Cerro. The sounds of oak tree leaves rustling in the breeze, the snuffling of the Iberico pigs as they guzzled acorns, the scent of hams as they cured in a vast cellar at the processing plant, the taste, that incomparable taste, which in my opinion, surpasses any other luxury food on earth and, of course, the amazing hospitality of my hosts.

I wont go into too much detail about the process of creating this finest of all fine foods, if you are interested, you can read my article. But, be in no doubt that the stringent guidelines and checks that take place before a “sacrificed” Iberico porker can be given the surname “De Bellota” more than justify the considerable expense involved in sampling the best.

My trip came about when I contacted my friends at Brindisa, to see if they had any contacts they might share with me to facilitate a visit to an Iberico pig farm. Instead, being the splendid folk that they all are, they invited me to join their buying team on a trip to a relatively new supplier, Señorio De Montanera, a co-op of 72 farmers who produce only the very top grade of Jamon Iberico.

When my plane arrived in Sevilla, via Madrid, I was exhausted. The previous night had seen the latest in the DINE WITH DOS HERMANOS events at Bentley’s. It had been a particularly good example of the genre and, although I had not been drinking, the late night meant that I had not gone to bed and had only caught a few hurried minutes sleep while dribbling over the shoulder of a disgruntled Spanish businessman on the second leg of the journey.

I was met at the gate by Brindisa’s Sales Account Manager, Cristina Pasantes and M.D. Alastair Brown who whisked me from the airport for the two-hour journey towards the Portuguese border, with a welcome stop at a typical small roadside restaurant to sample a couple of restorative beers and a few plates of food. By the time we arrived at the finca, the traditional farmhouse, it was late in the day and the sun was already declining in the sky. There was, however, still time for us to wander out into the Dehesa to get up close and personal with the Iberico pigs as they indulged in their daily diet, no less than 6kgs of acorns a day. It is the oleic acid in these acorns which gives the Jamon Iberico De Bellota its unmistakeable flavour and the layer of fat which melts on the tongue as you eat the slivers of ham.

I slept very soundly that night. A combined result of my exhaustion and a large meal at a local restaurant supplemented by far too much wine. When I awoke, showered and dressed the next morning, I found everyone waiting for me in the farmhouse kitchen. Felipe Perez Corcho (his last name means “cork” the other great product of the region) was standing by a well-used ham stand and carving thin slices off a large leg of Jamon Iberico to serve to his guests along with eggs and toast. It was the perfect start to a busy day which saw us visit another of the co-operative’s farms and then, best of all the abattoir and processing plant where live porkers become Dos Hermanos’s favourite nibble.

Every second of the process is monitored. Not just by the farmers, but also by those who monitor each and every pig to see if it reaches the standards of the Denomination of Origin, Jamon Iberico De Bellota. After slaughter and butchering, the legs and shoulder cuts are chilled over night to become firmer and then the curing process begins. As the picture shows, the curing rooms are difficult places in which to take pictures as they are filled with artificially created mist designed to replicate the traditional climate in which the hams used to be cured. Once they have stayed under a layer of Andalucian sea salt for the required time, they are hung up to age in a vast warehouse that, I was told held over 300,000 Jamons and Paleta (the shoulder cut)

The hams are stored for up to four years and then tested one more time before they can be released. This final test was the most intriguing as the hams were pierced in three places with a porous beef bone which was then sniffed loudly by a man whose years of experience and highly tuned sense of smell could tell him immediately if the cure had reached all the key areas of the meat. Then and only then would the jamon finally be given the much sought after tag which confirmed that it was indeed “Jamon Iberico De Bellota”

That marked the end of my trip and after spending one last night in Sevilla with my hosts, I joined the long queue for an early flight home to London the next morning. I carried with me a bag filled with pork products and even more appreciation of what it takes to create my favourite thing to eat.

I would be lying if I told you that the piggy treats lasted much past the following weekend, particularly once HP got involved, but the sights, sounds and smells of my visit to the Dehesa certainly have and will, I am sure stay with me for the rest of my life.

SEASONAL SPANISH FOOD by JOSE PIZARRO: A REAL SPANISH COOKBOOK FROM A REAL SPANISH CHEF

As regular readers of the blog will know, DH are often fairly disparaging about the state of Spanish restaurants in London. The road to bad tapas is littered with good intentions, dry plates of badly carved, over priced jamon and glasses of poorly chilled Manzanilla.

There is, however, one place (or should that be three places?) on which we cast a favourable eye, and those are the three restaurants which come under the banner of Britain's finest importer of Spanish food, Brindisa. We have yet to be delivered a bad meal in the Borough Market, South Ken or Soho branches and have returned to them for many repeat visits, which when the blog demands we are always looking for new and interesting places, speaks for itself.

There are a few reasons why the Brindisa offering is above the others in the city. One would obviously be the use of exemplary ingredients, which are from the range imported from the mother company. The second would be the ambiance, which is as close as we have found in the capital to our experiences in Spain without it becoming a theme park.

The main reason, obviously is the food, which is overseen by DH's favourite Spanish chef in London, Jose Pizarro. Those of you who were lucky enough to attend the DINE WITH DH at Casa Brindisa will have sampled some of JP's best dishes. Over many lunches I have had as many enjoyable conversations with him about his past as a child in Extremadura (Jamon Iberico country) his time as a head chef at the Michelin starred El Mesón de Doña Filo and now his role as Executive Chef for the three branches in the mini chain of Brindisa restaurants.

I am delighted to then, quite shamelessly, shill his splendid new book SEASONAL SPANISH FOOD, published a few weeks ago by Kyle Cathie. It is full of the sort of recipes that you might actually want to eat and although self effacing Jose Pizarro may not yet be receiving the plaudits of some of London's other would be Iberian experts (think Sam & Sam and Sam & Eddie) the fact that the Spanish Ambassador offered him the Embassy in which to hold his launch party tells you all you need to know about the regard in which he is held by his countrymen.

SEASONAL SPANISH FOOD contains many excellent recipes, but For DH, there is only one test of a Spanish chef's chops and that is by the quality of his croquetas. The outside should be crisp and break to reveal a soft bechamel studded with jamon or flakes of salt cod. Brindisa's are the best in London and I am pleased that JP has agreed to share his recipe with us.

It is well worth a try, as indeed is the book worth seeking out.


HAM CROQUETAS
Croquetas are one of the most popular dishes in Tapas Brindisa; we make around one hundred and fifty every day. I spent ages perfecting this recipe. Usually the roux is made with butter, but I use olive oil because I think it gives a better flavour.
In Spanish delis you can often buy cubed Ibérico ham (left over from carving the legs), which is ideal for this recipe – meat from close to the bone has the best flavour. If you cannot get hold of Ibérico ham, use Serrano ham instead, or indeed other cured hams such as speck or Parma ham.

Croquetas are a bit of a fiddle to make, but they can be frozen and make
great party food, so have a go.
Makes 15 to 20 croquetas

4 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
½ small leek, diced as small as possible – 3mm pieces
70g Ibérico or other air-dried ham, diced very small
60g plain flour
75ml ham or vegetable stock
325ml whole milk
freshly grated nutmeg
sea salt and freshly ground
black pepper
75g plain flour
2 large eggs, beaten
75g breadcrumbs
oil, for frying
Heat the olive oil in a pan until it starts to shimmer, then add the leek and sauté until soft but not coloured. Stir in the ham, fry for another minute, then stir in the flour and fry over a medium heat until the mixture is golden but not burnt. This will take about 5 minutes. It is important that the flour is cooked properly otherwise the croquetas will taste of flour.

Combine the stock and milk in a small pan and heat until hot but not boiling. Season the liquid with a few scrapes of nutmeg. Gradually add the liquid to the roux, a few tablespoons at a time, stirring the mixture all the time. Once you have incorporated all the milk, continue to cook the sauce for about 5 minutes until it thickens and leaves the sides of the pan when you stir it. At this stage, add a couple of turns of the pepper mill, taste the roux and adjust the salt if necessary – the ham can be very salty to start with. The sauce is now done: it’s got to be really thick because you don’t want the croquetas to turn into pancakes! Smooth the sauce on to a baking tray (30cm x 20cm is fine) then cover with clingfilm to stop the mixture drying out. Leave it to cool before putting it in the fridge for an hour.

When you are ready for the next stage, line up three bowls: one with flour, the other with beaten egg, and the third with the breadcrumbs. Dust your hands with flour, take a ball and roll it between your palms. The size of the croquettes is up to you, but the easiest is a walnut-sized ball. Next, dunk the croqueta into the flour – you want more of dusting than a coat – followed by the egg and then the breadcrumbs. Put the croquetas on a tray and when you’ve used up all the mixture, put them all back in the fridge for 30 minutes.

If you have a deep fat fryer, heat the oil to 175°C/325°F and fry the croquetas for a couple of minutes. If not, heat the oil in a frying pan until it starts to shimmer, then add 3 or 4 croquetas at a time and fry until they are golden all over. You don’t want them to cook too quickly otherwise the centre won’t be hot enough.

EAT MY GLOBE: TAKING THE BOOKTRADE ON A BINGE

And so it begins.

Although EAT MY GLOBE is not published in the U.K until April of next year, the sell in has begun in earnest and my publishers, John Murray suggested that a good way to show the book trade what it was all about would be to take selected members on an afternoon food tour.

So, on a cold, windy and miserable Friday, I met with a gaggle of assorted buyers and trade journalists for a swift pint at The Market Porter before taking them on a whirlwind tour of some of my favourite places.

The pub served a shockingly bad pint, but made a great meeting place particularly as our first port of call was Mrs King’s Pork Pies where the estimable Ian Hartland gave us a little talk before cutting up a prime large example for everyone to try all the while making sure that real customers were not neglected.

Next stop, around the corner, where the good people of Brindisa had arranged for Master Jamon Carver, Zak to give us a demonstration of fine art of ham cutting before he too distributed fine slices of Teruel and Iberico for our eager group to taste.

If everyone had been eagerly anticipating the first two stops, the next caused a little more concern as we hopped in some waiting cars and trundled off to Aldgate East and Tubby Issac’s Whelk and Jellied Eel Stall, which has been on the same spot for a hundred years or more. It was a first taste of old London for most, but they were all very brave soldiers as I doused bowls of cockles, whelks and, of course, eels with extra special, extra hot chilli vinegar and handed them around for everyone to try. Wonderful stuff although a shame to think with all the parking restrictions in that area now, the owner was doubtful about the long term future of the stall.

There is no doubt, however, that Paul A.Young has a very bright future and, although Paul himself could not be there for our visit, his Managers, Jakob and Brendan looked after us when we bustled in from a blustery Camden Passage and were soon giving us tastes of a rich brownie and handing over little goodie bags that Paul had asked them to make up. We took the opportunity to buy everyone a cup of Paul’s superlative hot chocolate before climbing back into our cars for perhaps the most unusual stop of the day.

I have written about Memhet at Embassy Electrical Supplies before, but now was the perfect time to visit as he has just taken delivery of some of his wonderful olive oil. On top of which he now has a new range of infused oils, some paprika dried in the Sun on the terraces his Cyprus estate and stunning wild oregano from his farm. As ever, Memhet was soon ladling out tastes of oil and olives and everyone was filling their John Murray shoulder bags with ideal Christmas Presents.

All this eating is thirsty work, so our penultimate port of call saw a quick stop at Hawksmoor where Nick Strangeway had created a special EAT MY GLOBE cocktail containing Compass Box Oak Cross Whisky, Jostberry Cordial and Palo Cortado Sherry. Very good it was too thanks to Tim and Noal who did the mixing and, with an added round of Martinis and a few plates of Iberico which we had picked up at Brindisa, it fortified us for the short walk to our final destination.

Where else could we finish a tour of this part of London than Tayyabs? It was, of course, already mobbed when we arrived, but we were shown to the private room and plates of sizzling lamb chops were put in front of us almost before our coats were off. As good as ever and as the food came, I took the opportunity to propose a toast to my new chums and to all the amazing and astonishingly generous old chums who had been so giving of their time and products to make the day such a success.

Thanks All.

CAFFE CALDESI: THE BATTLE OF THE HAMS

“It’s the best ham in the world” our charming server at Caffe Caldesi told us giving that dreamy look that only Italians can manage when thinking about fine food.

She was wrong of course, San Daniele ham is stunning stuff, but pales beside its Spanish counterpart, Jamon Iberico. More of that later, however.

I was having lunch with not one, but two publicity gurus from John Murray, my rather excellent publishing company. Lucy and Nikki came with spreadsheets in hand to explain how they were about to persuade the press and the world at large that one fat man’s journey around the world to gorge himself senseless might just be worthy of coverage. I don’t know about the media, but they had me convinced.

As usual when I have lunch/supper with anyone, it was left to me to select a venue. I suspect the fact that I do this here blog has something to do with that, but I don’t mind particularly as it gives me an opportunity to play. In this case, with the words “light” and “local” in mind, I lit upon Caffe Caldesi, the junior sibling of Giancarlo and Katie Caldesi’s more formal Tuscan joint in Marylebone.

The room is perfect, light and airy and just enough buzz to make it fun while not inducing the need to scream. The menu too, while pricier than the cooking deserves, offers enough options to eat both sensibly of heartily as your mood demands.

Nikki and Lucy were both persuaded by the offer of the ham and thick, meaty strips came on a wooden platter topped with creamy mozzarella. What I tasted was good and there is a good reason why San Daniele is in Serie A of the world’s hams, the mozzarella too prompted slightly improper moans from my two companions.

My own starter of fritto misto involved well-fried, fresh prawns, whitebait and squid in decent enough portions for me to allow wandering hands to creep across the table in sample mode.

Main courses were more workaday, well at least mine was and, while the orange sauce napped on top of my duck breast carried with it happy memories of old school tratt’s, the bird underneath was overcooked to grey. Lucy’s pasta with seafood and Nikki’s beetroot tortellini both looked a whole lot more interesting but with knowledge of the afternoon ahead of me, I left them to their own devices.

Hardly a world changing experience but why should every meal strive to achieve that? Caffe Caldesi provides a solid, if pricey option for an agreeable business lunch.

Now back to that ham, or in this case Jamon. The reason I glazed over when San Daniele was described as “the best in then world” was because my afternoon saw me taking up an invitation from the good people of Brindisa to taste the new release of the Joselito Gran Reserva Iberico Jamon.

For those of you who don’t know these hams, they are cured for a minimum of eighteen months and are the ne plus ultra of piggy legs. To my mind at least, they are the greatest food product on the face of the earth and no one produces better than Joselito. a family run firm with hundreds of acres of land in Spain’s Extremadura region Joselito a reputation for producing the best of the best and their pigs feed on the rich acorns which give Iberico its famous flavour.

No one has done more than Brindisa to promote fine Spanish food in the U.K as the queues at Borough Market prove and they did not let us down at this event with two fine small hams being carved expertly by Zack and Jose before being layered on to plates where, as they came up to temperature, the fat glistened as it melted.

It is hard to explain how good Iberico is to someone who has not tried it. The soft, silky texture of the meat, the warm, acorn rich fat melting in the mouth and the lingering savoury aftertaste. All I can say is that, if you have not tried it, then you have missed on of the food world’s very best experience.

So, now the new hams are in, get yourself down to Brindisa to try some. Oh, and there is a stall selling San Daniele there too, so you can do your own comparison and come back and tell me how right I am. Mind you, I already know that.

BREAKFAST @ BRINDISA BOROUGH MARKET

In a slightly scary “Gilbert & George finish each other sentences” kind of way, when HP called to say he was about to tuck into the enticing looking food at the new branch of Brindisa, I had just finished doing the same at the Borough Market branch.

I needed the sustenance to keep up with the energy levels of my irrepressible chum, Lex who was experiencing her first visit to London’s food tourist Mecca. She had already been given a pork pie by Mr Hartland, a sliver of Jamon at Brindisa as well as finding every other morsel of free grub in the market like a heat seeking missile, but by 11am, she declared she needed something more substantial and announced she was treating her "Uncle" to breakfast as thanks for helping her find gainful employment in our city.

Remarkably, at that time we not only found a table at Brindisa, but also one outside in the last of the Summer sun. The brekkie menu is short, but the quality is good and Lex’s plate of chorizo, eggs and potatoes was soon a memory as were my own rather good scrambled eggs, which came with slices of manchego, mushrooms and tomatoes.

With some freshly squeezed orange juice, the bill came to £20 including tip (thank you, Lex) a good deal less, I suspect than HP was racking up at their new venture.

Wish he had brought some of those croquetas back with him though.