From small acorns (comes great jamon)

You cannot underestimate the importance of jamon in Spain. Rafael (the farmer I worked for) once said, no hay jamon, no hay nada (no jamon, no nothing). What a relief it has been to find the pigs of the famous Jamon Iberico 100% Bellota (the best spanish ham in the world), trotting merrily across the spectacular Sierra de Aracena. It's like meeting your favourite actor and finding out they are a really nice guy.

I'm farming in the province of Huelva, the home of jamon. Every street, bar and shop you look in, reaffirms how proud they are of it. In the farmhouse, legs of jamon, worth over 250 euros each, were kept hanging under lock and key. The curing room was separated from my friends bedroom by a locked door, but the beautiful smell of jamon permeated through. It was our little jamon narnia.

On my one day off, I pilgrimaged to the Museo del Jamon in Aracena, and what a treat that was. I learnt that four factors make the jamon iberico so special. Sumptuous natural grazing, the breed of pig, quality of air, and knowledge of curing passed through generations. Between November and March, acorns fall from Oak trees and the pigs fatten on these natural treats, a process known as montanera. During these winter months, I too begin a montanera, starting with mince pies and ending with mini eggs. Acorns are poor in proteins but rich in carbohydrates, which transforms into fat. As the pigs roam to find the acorns, the shuffling helps the fat distribute evenly. The pigs eat three different types of acorns, and here is the science bit:

To put on 1kg of fat, a pig would need to eat 9kg of Holm Oak acorns

To put on 1kg of fat, a pig would need to eat 14kg of Cork Oak acorns

To put on 1kg of fat, a pig would need to eat 18kg of Portuguese Oak acorns

Grades of jamon de bellota (ham from pigs raised on acorns) vary depending on whether enough Oak trees grace the farmers land, providing ample grazing. If not, they will have to supplement their diets with animal feed, which devalues the quality of the jamon and lowers the price at market. I am beginning to be able to taste the difference, the 100% bellota is ridiculously delicious.

In the pre-supermarket era, almost every family in the Sierra would have had a pig. The concejil (a pig shepherd) would go from door to door, collecting and then leading the pigs to graze the communal pastures. When winter came, families would, and still do, get together for La Matanza (the killing and curing of the pig). As an important source of protein, no part of the pig goes to waste, a perfect example of nose to tail eating. Economically, if you sell the two jamones (back legs) then you cover the cost of raising the pig, and then technically you eat the rest for free. Though I'm not sure I could ever sell the best bit.

The jamones are covered in salt and then left to hang for two years (or if the leg is particularly big, sometimes longer). The air in the Sierra is, as with the cheese, perfect for curation. Here they cannot use artificial conditions, only opening and closing windows to alter the temperature.

In reward for my work, I was able to try some of the farm's jamon. The texture, colour and flavour were sublime, though it's when it melts in your mouth, that you know you are eating good jamon. It was like the finest of butters. Jamon is rich in proteins, minerals, vitamins, and helps the brain function. It's also good for the nervous system, and I can testify that when I eat it, I get crazy happy.

(pitch) fork notes

• In Ancient Greece, Hipocrates recommended the ingestion of jamon to sick people.
• Jamon was eaten on the voyages to the New World, and as new spices were encountered, new combinations such as chorizo were born.
• White dots that appear in the jamon are a few crystallisations produced by an amino acid. They improve the flavour, so don't fret and enjoy. 
• It's a lie that pigs always sleep on the same side and so one leg is better than the other. This is apparently the question everyone asks in the museum, doh.
• In Gallego (language spoken in Galicia), jamon is called shamon. This will never cease to make me smile. he he.

(the day we herded pigs through our garden)

Oi whey! this cheese is gouda!

I've finally paid my time, for all the bad cheese jokes I have ever told. I wrapped hundreds of wheels of queso (cheese) in clingfilm, whilst being serenaded by an Andalucian farmer, punctuating flamenco wails with shouts of "Ḿary Poppins!".  In fact he did have something of a cockney gent to him.

In a bid to eat more and learn more about what I eat, I am volunteer farming across Spain. I've started in the beautiful Sierra de Aracena, a mountain range in Huelva, down south and snuggled close to Portugal. The terrain is imperial. It's almost as if it were painted by Gainsborough and Reynolds on a country retreat. Majestic plunging hills, studded with valient Oak trees, and pasture licked with wild flowers. This is all very important for the taste of the cheese. The lush pasture is perfect grazing for the goats, whose mission is to eat, and whose milk is all the more richer for it. In fact, even the air here has a special affect on the taste of the cheese. The queseria (dairy) is perched high in the hills, where the air is cool at night, even in the most scorching of summers.

Maria Jesus, who inherited the finca (farm) is the business brains behind the queseria, her mini empire includes an organic farm shop, bar with montaditos (little rolls) for 1€ and she also runs cheese making workshops. I'd never considered how you make cheese, though I've certainly eaten my fair share. So I rolled up my sleeves, donned an apron and followed Maria Jesus around like a little sheep for two weeks.



Taking unpasteurised milk straight from the barn, we heated it on the stove until it reached 30 degrees. Then we took our pails outside on the terrace and added 4 tsps of cuajo (enzyme called rennet) and waited. The milk begins to solidify and seperate. After 10 minutes you can cut through it with a knife, a highly satisfying task, slicing it lengthways and sideways until you have a texture that resembles soft cottage cheese.


As the cheese seperates you are left with a lot of liquid, the same that you find on the top of a yoghurt. This liquid is rich with protein. Maria Jesus said a cup of this is equal to a fillet of beef, so you should always mix it into your yoghurt. However for cheese you need to strain it away, using a sieve.

 

Lump your cheesy mixture into a mould like a cookie cutter and begin squeezing out more liquid by pressing down with your fingers, turning it as you go. This action compacts it nicely, work on both sides to get a nice firm round of cheese that will hold when you remove the mould. Crumble a generous sprinkle of rock salt, top and bottom to preserve.



You can eat your perfect little queso fresco the same day, it's delicious, fresh and creamy like mozarella but soft as a cloud. Or leave it to cure, turning it daily so it doesn´t stick and for an even curation. The longer you leave it, the stronger it will be. We had ours with salad, on the side of huevos y patatas fritas (egg and chips). Who knew the Cockneys and the Andaluzs had so much in common.

• All their cheese begins life in the same way, just the length of curation changes the texture and flavour.
• The goats are milked every day and can produce 4 litres of milk each but in reality, each goat will give a different yield. 
• If you can get your hands on membrillo (quince jelly), a slice of this is the perfect partner to queso. 
• How do you make cheese? Put it passed-your-eyes.