Madrid eats. Part 3: The ham stands alone.

Ever since the Inquisition, ham has been a major pillar of Spanish cuisine. Marranos (Jews who were forced to convert to Christianity) ate ham to show that they were not secretly keeping kosher. Christians also ostentatiously ate ham to avoid being denounced as Jews. 

Once established, the taste for cured pig meat has become an obsession, even an art form.

There are at least eleven Ham Museums (really just a chain of restaurants specializing in various ham concoctions) in Madrid alone. And that's just the one chain. 

Walking through the city, it seems that there is at least one ham store per block, not even counting the restaurants, bars, bodegas, cervecerias, etc. that, though they may not be ham specialists, certainly have an extensive number of ham plates and ham-infused dishes on their menus.

 

So what's all the fuss about?

 

The two main types of Spanish ham are jamón ibérico and jamón serrano. Serrano comes from white pigs raised in the the Spanish sierras. It's considered to be of lesser quality than jamón ibérico, and so is cheaper and more widely consumed. It is still delicious.

 

Jamón ibérico is made from black Iberian pigs, or pata negra (black toenails). It's believed that this breed was introduced by the Phoenicians, who then interbred them with native wild boars. A single leg of the best ham can cost about $500, or about $30/pound, The back legs of the pig are considered the best quality.`

 

The distinctive flavor of the Iberian ham starts with the way the pigs are raised and fed. This process is legally regulated to ensure the highest quality. Immediately after they are weaned, the piglets are fattened on grain for several weeks. As they grow, they are free to roam in pastures and oak groves, eating only natural forage, until they are almost ready for slaughter. 

 

At that point, they are fed only olives or acorns from the huge Holm, Gall, or Cork oak trees that dot the plains of central and southern Spain. This diet gives the meat a rich, nutty umami, enhanced by streaks of buttery fat. 

 

The hams are cured by being salted and dried repeatedly in a process that takes at least a year, although the very best are cured for as much as four years.

 

The three main types of jamón ibérico are:

• Jamón ibérico de bellota (acorn): This is considered the very finest quality ham, made from free range pigs and cured for at least 36 months.

• Jamón de Recebo: Made from pigs that are pastured and fed a mixed diet of acorns and grain. Must be cured for at least 24 months.

• Jamón Ibérico de Cebo: Made from grain-fed pigs and cured for up to 24 months.

Until 2007, jamón ibérico was not available in the United States, and there are still only two producers in Spain that are allowed to export to the States. So if you want to experience the best Iberian hams, you have to come to Spain.

The quality of the meat is only part of the reason why Iberian ham is best enjoyed in Spain. The second reason is the ham slicer or cortador.

 

A master cortador is a respected member of the Spanish culinary scene, considered more an artist than a kitchen worker. There are only about a hundred full-time cortadores in the country, and they make a good living slicing hams. 

 

Florencio Sanchidrián, considered by many the finest cortador in the world, charges around $4,000 to slice a single ham, about an hour and a half's work. He has flown all over the world to slice ham at high-end restaurants and private parties 

 

As you can imagine, cortador is a highly-coveted position. A minimum of three years is needed to be certified, and an annual competition for cortadores is followed avidly by pig aficionados.

 

Slicing the ham correctly brings out all its many flavors. Each slice must be of a certain thickness and contain just the right balance of meat and fat.

 

The process starts with a long, flexible slicing knife that cuts the meat just thinly enough that the fat melts slightly onto the blade. Slicing machines are never used because the machine’s blades get hot and can destroying  the delicate aromas and flavors of the tocino, or ham fat. A knife produces just enough warmth to release the fat’s full aroma.

 

Ideally, the ham should be cut seconds before it is consumed to ensure that its aroma, flavor, and texture are at their peak. As a cut ham ages, it oxidizes and dries out, which changes its texture and makes it taste saltier. 

That doesn't stop Spaniards from consuming pre-sliced ham in a dizzying number of ways, including this delicious, convenient hand-portable form. 

But the best way to enjoy this uniquely Spanish delicacy is to belly up to a bar that employs a master cortador, like Joselito at Taverna Real, and order a plate of their finest jamón ibérico de bellota with toasts spread with pureed tomatoes and a glass of Miro vermut rojo from the tap to wash it all down.

 

P.

Madrid eats. Part 2: Tapas and bocadillos.

Many Madrileños eat their main meal between 1:30 and 3:00 PM. At that point, many of the restaurants close until the next meal: around 9:00 to midnight. The late meal is often lighter, consisting of a series of small plates called tapas. Tapas can be anything from a plate of olives to a miniature paella. They're the perfect opportunity to eat a little and drink a little while you catch up with friends and family after work.

In most bars, bodegas, tapacerias, tavernas, or cervezcerias, when you order a drink the server will bring you a tapa or two to go with it. 

You can stick with what they bring you, or you can order more. At the Bodega de la Ardosa, a plate of olives comes with your draft vermouth, but you have to order the salmorejo, a cold soup made from fresh tomatoes and garlic blended with stale bread, extra virgin olive oil, and sherry vinegar and garnished with grated egg and crispy ham bits. 

It's been a specialty of the house since they opened in 1892. 

Olive pits, etc. get tossed on the floor under the bar.

 At the Taverna Real, the specialty is Jamón Ibérico de Bellota, so that costs extra. Especially since theirs is sliced by one of Madrid's premier ham slicers, Joselito. Yeah, ham slicing is a licensed profession here, almost like sushi chef in Japan. It takes three years of training, and the top slicers can produce slices of uniform thickness with precisely the optimum ration of meat to fat.

The kitchen at Taverna Real, with vermouth and beer taps and an array of hams waiting to be sliced.​

Many of the tapacerias have a specialty. For this one it's mushrooms.

 

They're stuffed with, what else, ham, and dipped quickly in the deep fryer. Served with bread and grilled padron peppers. A glass of vino tinto is optional. 

Almost all these places have both beer and vermouth on draft. And, as in France, the house wine is always a good bet.

Another lunch option is the bocadillo, a sandwich without dressing, just the naked filling and bread. 

Fried squid is a local favorite, as are fried anchovies and other fish, ham, or any of various kinds of sausage.

The Mercado de San Miguel is a gastronomic palace overflowing with all kinds of delicious food from fresh oysters to caviar and champagne. You buy whatever small bites take your fancy and wolf them down at the crowded tables. Though the individual prices are reasonable, it's all too easy to rack up a considerable bill. Everything looks so damn tasty that it's hard to stop once you start eating.

Toasts with seafood. Though it's many miles from the sea, Madrid offers some of the best and freshest fish in Spain since it's the major export point for all manner of ocean products.

The market has its own cocktail bar as well as several wine bars.

Tapas made from various kinds of olives.

It's also one of the few places I found that offers tapa-sized portions of paella. I was disappointed to find that in most restaurants here, you can only order paella for two people. Since O is not a big paella fan, I'd be out of luck even if she was here.

Shellfish in abundance.

Practically anything you can think of that's delicious to eat is available here. Snails, cheese, cookies, candy, breads, fruit, pastries, coffee. All available in small portions for you to try. It's really the ultimate tapaceria.

 

P.

Madrid eats what Madrid eats. Part One.

Madrileños enjoy their food. There are restaurants everywhere, not to mention tapas bars, cervezcerias, cafés, and other places where you treat yourself to anything from a small plate to a multi-course meal. 

Like Rome, but unlike more cosmopolitan cities such as Paris, London, and New York, the city lacks a wide variety of cuisines. Madrileños prefer to stick with their traditional cooking. Sure, there are sushi bars, pizza parlors, Indian and Chinese restaurants, but they are conspicuously few in number and cater more to tourists than to locals.

 

Madrid eats what it eats. And what it eats is very tasty.

O and I were not so impressed. I love chocolate, and the sight and smell of the thick, dark brew that was put before us after a half-hour wait was intoxicating. The chocolate looked almost dense enough to chew.

 

Unfortunately, it turned out to be way too sugary for us. I like my chocolate dark and bittersweet, and there was no bitterness in this cup. Neither of us could drink more than a few sips. Dipping the not-so-sweet churros in it helped cut the sugar, but we still couldn't finish even half a cup.

Our first try at tapas here was rather more successful. Jamón ibérico is reputed to be the world's finest ham, and we found it lived up to the hype. Even O, who is not a fan of ham was impressed by its nutty, buttery flavor. The olives and cheeses are also amazingly tasty.

Our next culinary adventure was to try Madrid's quintessential winter dish, cocido madrileño. This chickpea-based stew is cooked for at least three hours and includes a variety of ingredients and flavors. 

 

It probably has its roots in a dish cooked by Sephardic Jews in medieval times, but it has been modified substantially since, especially during the Inquisition when the fear of being denounced as Jewish forced Christians and Marranos (converted Jews) to incorporate pork into their meals. 

 

Now, lard, bacon, chorizo, and chicken are added, along with potatoes, cabbage, carrots, and turnips. Ham bone and beef spine are used to enrich the stock.

The stew is served in two or three different courses, or vuelcos. First the stock is drained into a bowl with noodles and served with green onion and a peck of pickled peppers. 

The second vuelco consists of the chickpeas and the vegetables. The third is the meat dish. Or the meat and vegetables can be served together. The result is a hearty, satisfying meal--comfort food at its finest.

The hot drink in Madrid right now is gin-and-tonic, or as Madrileños say "geentoenik." This was a particularly delicious version, with juniper berries and extra lime.

Another dish we loved was stewed beans and meat. There are several varieties of beans, and they are paired with anything from chicken to pork belly, jamón, or chorizo.

Bursting with hearty, mouth-filling flavors. Even more so when accompanied by grilled artichoke hearts stuffed with ham and olives.

One of my favorite dishes so far: wild rabbit wrapped in bacon and stuffed with ham and foie gras. Smoky and savory and soul-satisfying.

The goat cheese here is superb, either fresh, grilled or baked, as in this lovely salad featuring pomegranate seeds, toasted pine nuts and walnuts, and every salad green known to man. 

 

Jamón Ibérico de Bellota is the finest grade of ham in Spain, with extra marbling that comes from a diet of acorns. The roasted almonds have a different taste than those back home--almost meaty. They're a perfect accompaniment to the ham. The toast with tomato puree is eaten with the ham, though both are excellent on their own. Freshly made potato chips are very popular and definitely superior to the packaged versions we're used to. There are potato chip shops that sell them hot out of the fryer, though most restaurants make their own,

Finally, one of the best desserts ever: tiramisu mousse with buttery coffee ice cream.

 

Madrid's cuisine may be limited, but it would probably take me a month or two before I needed a break. I'd certainly like the opportunity to get tired of it.

 

 P.