World's Costliest Ham Triggers Pork Envy
By
AMANDA RIVKIN
ALBURQUERQUE,
Spain (AP) - Spanish cuisine tickles the palate in a
thousand ways: ugly but delicious creatures called goose barnacles;
boiled octopus with a dash of olive oil and paprika; thick, mushy
sausage made from pig's blood.
Spaniards are nothing if not
dedicated eaters.
Now, hard-core foodies are
drooling over the prospect of something truly superlative from
Spain, at least in price: a salt-cured ham costing about $2,100
per leg, or a cruel $160 per pound. It's a price believed to make
it the most expensive ham in the world.
Don't grab your wallet just
yet. And forget about asking for just a slice.
The 2006 Alba Quercus Reserve
(as this pricey pork will be known) won't be available until late
2008 and you must buy the whole ham or nothing at all. But that
hasn't dissuaded gastronomic Web sites and blogs from buzzing
with talk of the farm where it is being produced, likening it
to a Mount Olympus of pork.
Its mastermind, Manuel Maldonado,
44, comes from a long line of ham producers in a country that's
nuts about the stuff. In bars and restaurants, legs of ham hanging
from the wall are as common as TV sets.
But Maldonado is taking the
art of the ham to new heights, pampering his pigs with a free-range
lifestyle and top-quality diet of acorns before slaughtering them,
then curing the meat for two years - twice as long as his competitors.
It's that last step that Maldonado
credits with creating a delicacy that justifies the heavenly price.
Maldonado had hoped to roll
out his super-gourmet ham this year, but felt the first batch
fell short of his ultra-demanding standards and did not put it
up for sale. He hopes to do better this time and have it ready
around Christmas 2008.
"This is the best ham
in the world because it comes from the best pig in the world,"
Maldonado says of 2006 Alba Quercus Reserve, a reference to the
year the pigs were slaughtered.
"It is the most important ham in Spain," adds Pedro
Soley, a Barcelona connoisseur who is among the lucky few lining
up to buy one. Indeed, this is a limited edition piece: Maldonado
will produce just 80 to 100 legs.
And
they are expected to be a world apart from Spain's more common
Iberian ham - named for the breed of pig used - which is similar
to Italian prosciutto, but a darker red and chewier.
For
comparison, Italy's finest Prosciutto di Parma and Spain's top-grade
Spanish acorn-fed Iberian ham - both savory, umami-rich meats
usually served as ultra-thin slices - top out at $30 a pound.
With Spanish pigs bound for
ham glory, diet is everything. The least expensive ham is made
from pigs fed on grain, whereas mid-grade hams come from pigs
raised on a combination of wheat and acorns.
Then there are Spain's poshest
pigs, which feast exclusively on acorns, producing a rich flavor
and oily texture that make the meat a delicacy. Spain's finest
hams are not considered first-rate without an "acorn-fed"
stamp on the label.
At least some foodies apparently
haven't been put off by the price of Maldonado's work. One food
blog, Directo al Paladar, called the cost of the ham "almost
a gift," considering how it is made.
Maldonado has yet to set a price for customers who buy the 13-pound
hams directly from him, but the food site Ibergour.com has a dozen
for sale at $2,100 each, and is accepting $250 deposits.
Is it ridiculous to pay that
for a piece of pig?
No, says Maldonado. A ham
like this can be shared among 20 people, he notes, whereas a bottle
of the finest wine going for the same amount goes down quickly
among just a few.
For four generations, Maldonado's
family has been making ham from high-quality hogs in this town
of 5,000 in Spain's southwest Extremadura region.
Their herds of black Iberian
beauties are kept on a handful of acorn-rich farms in the surrounding
meadowlands, walking freely up to 6 miles daily without any swineherds
to look after them.
After the pigs are butchered,
they are cured in high-grade sea salts and refrigerated at 39
degrees. The salt is wiped off after about 12 days. Over the course
of the next three months, the temperature is gradually raised
to 68 degrees.
The hams then are brought
into one of Maldonado's two warehouse-size cellars where they
cure for two years, hanging on a series of interconnected hooks
from floor to ceiling, like curtains.
Maldonado will only give a ham the top-grade seal if it passes
his olfactory test after the curing process. He drives a small
rod through the outer layer of fat and into the meat to see if
he considers it up to snuff.
In his cellar, Maldonado drew
one of the hams close and rubbed his thumbs gently against the
smooth roundness of the ham's firm base.
"Ham provides us with
life," he said with a smile. |