La Tienda in the Press

From swine raised like royalty, cured ham called jamon iberico is finally here
By Devra First - Globe Staff / August 13, 2008

WAYLAND - This party has been two years in the making. At the home of Frank Cutitta, friends are beginning to gather. Cutitta, a media executive, is in the kitchen, putting the finishing touches on pasta alla carbonara and veal saltimbocca. Outside on a stone patio overlooking a pond, people mill around the guest of honor.

It weighs 13 pounds, glistens with fat, and is capped by a dramatic black hoof.

It's a ham, but not just any ham. This is jamon iberico de bellota, the be-all-and-end-all, Rolls Royce, ne plus ultra of hams: one that positively demands a party. It comes from Spain, and it is among the first whole bellota hams to legally reach this country. Until now, to get a taste of this porcine holy grail, American foodies had to hop a plane.

The ham has arrived in the United States because the Spanish company Embutidos Fermin, located in the medieval village of La Alberca, spent much of the last decade working to meet USDA specifications. The company built a new slaughterhouse and formed a partnership with chef Jose Andres, host of the PBS series "Made in Spain," and Portland, Maine, importers the Rogers Collection. In 2005, they got the green light. The following year jamon iberico began to trickle into the country, first in the form of sausages, then paletas, or shoulders. But the actual hams, which take several years to cure, didn't start shipping to customers till last week.

The ham has arrived in Wayland because Cutitta's friend Victor Grillo, the man behind such ads as the famous Ginsu knife infomercial, heard about it long ago and decided to get his hands on one.

He found out he couldn't. "It was forbidden fruit," he says. "You want what you can't have." When he discovered a waiting list for jamon iberico (pronounced: ham-ON ee-BEAR-ee-ko) started by La Tienda, a website specializing in Spanish products, he put down his name and a $199 deposit.

He was among about 400 people to do so, according to La Tienda owner Don Harris. That was two years ago. Some people have been on the waiting list for as long as six years. Very few of them are in the restaurant business. These are individuals, caught up in pure porky obsession.

"They are ham fanatics," Harris says. "One guy was postponing his wedding till he got one. He has a motorcycle club called the Patas Negras," or "black hooves," another name for the Iberian pigs from which the ham is made. "We had a customer who went and visited his ham in the mountain village where it was being cured."

Jamon iberico's cult following stems in part from its mystique: nearly unattainable, dearly expensive. It retails for $96 a pound and up.

Its provenance adds to that; the ham comes from pigs that are as coddled as the cattle that become Kobe beef. The pigs roam free, feasting on acorns ("bellotas" in Spanish). "They live in pig paradise," says Harris. "They grow up as a gang together for two years, then when it's time for them to meet their maker, they play them Mozart. After Mozart, they go to bed for the night. I don't know if they're tucked in. The next morning they get hot showers, then some mysterious carbon dioxide enters their atmosphere and they go off to piggy heaven." This is referred to not as slaughtering the pigs, but as sacrificing them. The hams then cure for up to four years in clean mountain air.

The piggy spa treatment takes place for a practical reason. "They want them very mellow," Harris says. "If they're scared, they produce epinephrine. If they're not stressed, the meat is fine. I'm not saying the ham people are pig lovers. They're meat lovers."

The main reason bellota ham is so coveted, of course, is its flavor. "It's very meaty, rich, marbled with fat," writes Andres in an e-mail from Spain. "Jamon iberico is the finest ham in the world. It is a ham that will ruin you for other hams." He recommends serving it alone, or topped with caviar and rolled up like a cigar.

The meat is dark red, almost the shade of corned beef. It tastes like prosciutto in Technicolor, nuanced and blossoming in the mouth, with a lingering touch of iron. The fat has faintly fruity undertones; it dissolves on your tongue. Harris says the curing process converts much of the fat of acorn-fed hams into healthy monounsaturated fat, like olive oil that happens to taste like pork. According to the nutrition label on Fermin's website, a 1 ounce serving has 84.5 calories, 51.3 from fat; about a third of that is saturated. So it's not exactly health food, but it does taste extraordinary.

"The operative word for the bellota is 'meaty,' " says Harry Saltzman, the La Tienda customer who went to visit his ham in La Alberca. "Even the fat, which of course my wife assiduously cuts off and I love and I eat when she's not looking. I've been told the acorns give the ham and the fat this rich flavor. It's spectacular. Nobody believes me it's as good as I say."

Saltzman, a retired music professor and conductor who lives in New York, has requested his ham be delivered on the autumnal equinox; his kitchen is too hot in the summer. He and his wife, Barrett Cobb, travel to Spain regularly. They first tried jamon iberico on one of their trips. "We bought some and we were hooked," he says. Five years ago, they signed up on La Tienda's waiting list.

Then, just as they were about to head off on another trip, an e-mail came from La Tienda. "It said 'Do you want to visit your ham?' " Saltzman recalls. "I immediately e-mailed back. We were going right past La Alberca. So we visited the ham. We had to go through a bath for our shoes and put on white robes and shower caps. We got great pictures: me petting a ham, then petting a pig."

When it arrives, they'll have a party, of course. "We'll have to round everyone up," Saltzman says. "My brother and sisters and a few other crazies like me have bought 1 pound chunks of it, which I'll cut for them."

Most of the people getting hams from La Tienda are probably planning festivities around their arrival, says Harris. (Though not the man who postponed his wedding; he and his fiancee have since split up.) "Spain is a very communal society," he says. "You'd have the ham on the kitchen table and people would float by during the day - neighbors, friends, extended family - and cut off thin slices. The ham would last a month or so. In the US, we're not communal types. People don't float through our kitchens. So most people will probably have a big party."

Then, before hanging up the phone, he gleefully announces that he's off to his own jamon iberico party - a ham's packaging was damaged in shipment and they have to do something with it. "There will be dancing, of course," he says. "The sevillana, which is like flamenco but for ordinary people."

You don't have to buy an entire ham to celebrate, however. La Tienda will eventually sell it sliced. "You won't have to mortgage your house to get the ham, though going to a Red Sox game can cost as much as bellota," says Harris, who grew up in Belmont and still makes Fenway pilgrimages.

You can taste jamon iberico de bellota locally, too. Estragon, Toro, and Persephone are among the restaurants that will serve it, and specialty shops such as Formaggio Kitchen and Las Ventas have it in stock.

Back at the Cutitta home, the spread is on the table. Cutitta, who is famous among friends for his cooking, has created a feast based around Grillo's ham. There are slices of jamon iberico de bellota, unadorned; figs topped with the ham, manchego, and Italian honey; skewers of shrimp with ham; mushrooms with ham; the carbonara and the veal ("make sure you say it's from Waverly Market," Cutitta says).

"Isn't it great when food brings people together?" Grillo says. Then he takes his first bite of carbonara, topped with more slivers of jamon and Spanish cheese. "I'm gonna fall over," he says, practically swooning. "Oh my God, this is awesome. This is better than sex."

And with that, it's time for a toast. "Here's to the pig!" Grillo says, raising a glass of Rioja. And together the friends salute the guest of honor.

"Here's to the pig!"

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When you want more than just a meal, click away.
Mark Petix

For the dedicated cook and the intrepid gourmand, the Internet has opened a world of culinary possibilities.

Farm-raised abalone from Monterey Bay; the famed Iberico ham from Spain; Boudin sausage and live crawfish from Louisiana; and some of the finest olive oils from Italy - you can have it all shipped to your door.

It's a food revolution, said Martina Rossi-Kenworthy, co-operator of Gustiamo, an Italian specialty food importer in Brooklyn, N.Y.

"If you want to cook something good, you really need the best ingredients," she said.

She says some of the best food is simple food. But simple doesn't mean easy.

Every ingredient counts. That's why the olive oil used in the classic oil, pepper and garlic pasta or drizzled over ripe, fresh tomatoes is so important.

That's where Gustiamo comes in, says Rossi-Kenworthy.

It offers extra virgin olive oil grown, pressed and bottled on small, often centuries-old estates in Sicily, Italy and Sardinia.

And like vintage wine, each is as unique as the place the olives are grown.

"It takes on the characteristics of the soil, water and climate," Rossi-Kenworthy said, "and it changes from one year to the next."

So why would someone pay $33 for a 16.9-ounce bottle of Disisa extra virgin oil when a jug at Costco sells for half the price?

Bulk oils are exactly that - mass produced and blended with oils from places including Turkey, Spain and Greece.

Rossi-Kenworthy says the olives for Disisa are grown in the hills near Monreale, a Norman town with a postcard view of Palermo, Sicily.

It is, she says, truly unique.

"I don't think you will find this quality here in or even outside the States," she said. "It's even hard for us to find."

As with Gustiamo's other products, which include salted capers from Pantelleria, tomatoes grown on Mount Vesuvius and Colatura, an ancient anchovy fish sauce from Cetera, there is a learning curve.

"It's very hard to convey the quality," Rossi-Kenworthy said, "and why it can be so exasperating, but I think once you taste it, you know."

That's how Don Harris felt when he first tasted Iberico ham 40 years ago.

The owner of La Tienda, a Spanish food importer based in Virginia, spent 10 years trying to get permission to bring Spain's most famous ham to America.

He's finally done it, adding the cured ham from the black-hoofed pig to its long list of products, from piquillo peppers to paella rice.

So why would someone pay $1,400 for a 15-pound ham?

Harris says he could explain how the prized pigs spend their final year in a forest bulking up on the acorns that give them a unique flavor.

Instead, he says just try it.

You'll know.
CULINARY CLICKS

Here are some of the best food sites to get you started on your Internet journey:

Gustiamo.com: Oils, pastas, tomatoes, sea salts and other specialty products from Italy.

La Tienda: Ham, oil, peppers, cheese, rice, ceramics and cookware from Spain.

Nimanranch.com: High quality grass-fed pork, beef and lamb.

Montereyabalone.com: Farm-raised abalone sold live in the shell.

Cajungrocer.com: Boudin sausage, live crawfish and other Cajun specialty products.

Savoring the elusive bellota ham, soon to be legal in the U.S.
Raymond Sokolov

Next month, restaurants across the U.S. will at last be able to serve the world's best and costliest cold cut -- legally, that is -- for an expected $50 or so a plate.

Anyone with the time and the euros has been able to fly to Spain and taste jamon iberico de bellota, the aged, acorn-fed ham of black-footed pigs. But here in food-fearing America, official approval for this glistening, fat-streaked delicacy dragged on. At one Manhattan tapas bar, the owner offered contraband portions of bellota and even advertised the ham on his Web site -- until U.S. Customs nabbed one of those precious porcine back legs. That forced the owner to get in line with Mario Batali and other high-on-the-hog restaurateurs who await bellota's legal entry into the country as early as next week.

Spain's bellota ham, from pigs that dine on acorns, will finally be available in the U.S.

Early adopters who sent a deposit of $199 to LaTienda.com, an Internet source for imported Spanish delicatessen, will be billed the balance of the approximate total charge of $1,500 for a single bellota ham. The Web shipper calculates that will work out to about $96 a pound, or $6 an ounce.

Eager for a taste, I paid a visit earlier this month to Casa Mono, Mr. Batali's inventive Manhattan tapas restaurant. Lacking the real thing, he apologetically served me the cured shoulder of a bellota porker, which became importable sooner than hams from the same animals. Bellota (Spanish for acorn) acquires its complex, profound flavor from the pigs' unusual diet as well as from the two to four years the hams are hung up to air-cure. (Unlike most American hams, bellota isn't smoked or subjected to heavy doses of salt to cure it.) But even the bellota shoulder "ham" was pretty fabulous, or at least fabulous enough to get Molto Mario to sniff it like fine wine.

Both of us had tasted back-leg bellota ham in Spain, and we knew it had an even more elegant texture than the shoulder (paleta in Spanish). But I didn't trust my memory going back several years to a heavenly ham moment in Seville. So to get a jump on the bellota bandwagon, I found a source for the real thing right here in North America -- in Canada, which legalized the importation a few weeks before its lumbering cousin to the south.

I flew to Toronto to check it out. There, on Yonge Street, said to be the longest street in the world, I found a minimal but baroquely ambitious and up-to-date place called Cava. Cava is the name given to champagne-process sparkling wine made in Spain. Cava the restaurant serves an imaginative array of foods inspired by the small-plate dishes one might find in a Spanish tapas bar. The menu proudly lists the essential item in the traditional tapas menu, jamon serrano, the brilliantly hearty mountain ham that has been available in the U.S. for many years now. But Cava also has begun serving bellota, though as an off-the-menu special because of difficulties with supply.


Per Kristiansen for The Wall Street Journal
Toronto's Cava restaurant slices bellota ham to order.

Was it worth the trip? Well, I scored a taste scoop. A beautifully cut plate of translucent ham cost me 25 Canadian dollars (a little less than US$25). I didn't weigh it, but I would say I was served as much as four ounces, which I savored with a glass of manzanilla chosen from Cava's extensive sherry list. Since that is about half the expected U.S. price of a bellota serving I probably offset my travel expenses by $25.

This ham was not only glorious to behold, but it also had a truly astounding range of tastes, spanning the register from dark to light, and it challenged the tooth coyly. This meat was a "ham what am," Al Capp's highest praise for ham in his comic strip "Li'l Abner." But the ham the Yokum family ate in Capp's mythical Dixie hamlet of Dogpatch was something quite different, presumably a Southern country ham of the salty, rough-and-ready variety that aficionados like me gobble down with redeye gravy. By contrast, jamon iberico de bellota is a miracle of low-sodium refinement coaxed from pampered pigs that range at leisure over wide swaths of land, munching acorns while their hindquarters swell.

You can see the result of all this languorous balanophagy (Greek for acorn-eating) on your plate. This is the only ham that has lacy lines of fat looping through the whole visual field of every slice. And the fat is what gives the ham its plush, porky flavor.

Cholesterol nannies will note that bellota's sole importer, Fermin, publishes a chart of "nutrition facts" that advertises 87.9 calories for a one-ounce serving, of which 55.2 calories are from fat, about half of it saturated. This is not your cardiologist's idea of health food.

Only a handful of corpulent hedge-fund managers are likely to manage a steady enough diet of bellota for it to be a health worry. But should you be searching for an excuse to eat more of it, just remember: Bellota is a shining example of sustainable agriculture. Spanish farmers let their pigs loose in oak forests to feed exclusively on acorns for the last three months of their lolling lives. And acorns, properly managed, are -- do I need to tell you? -- a renewable resource.

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Owen Dugan

Learn these words: jamon lberico de bellota. They literally mean "ham from Iberico-breed pig that was fed mostly acorns." In terms of gastronomy, these Spanish hams represent one of the world's most coveted foods, and one that has not met federal import standards ... until now.

Iberico is prized for its depth and complexity of flavor. It's nuttier and gamier than prosciutto but sweeter than Serrano ham. The meat is a bit chewy, although the silken fat softens it. The acorns provide oleic acid (aka "good fat"), and the relatively greater amount of fat requires that the ham be aged longer-up to three years-which intensifies the flavor.

The pigs are essentially free-range, allowed to wander wooded plains and getting more exercise than lot-raised animals. They eat whatever they find, which includes the acorns. Eventually their diet is shifted to acorns alone, not unlike cattle that are grass-fed but finished on corn. The right breed, feed and lifestyle are the corner-stones of quality, and this ham benefits from all three.

This comes at a price. Soon the hams-whole cured hind legs-will become available in the States through www.jamon.com, which is associated with Spanish importer La Tienda. They'll cost almost $100 a pound; as they're only sold whole, that's about $1,500, give or take.

At the moment, you can get slices from the paleta-foreleg or shoulder ($34.50 for 4 ounces)-which cures more quickly but still has the characteristic flavor and texture. It seems expensive, until you taste it.
 

Signe Langford

We scoured the Internet to find some of the best spots for ordering high-end food. The result? Eleven reliable Web sites that will deliver delicious goods straight to any Toronto doorstep. From fresh lobster to aged cheese, our picks for the best on-line food shopping.

La Tienda
Based in Williamsburg, Virginia, La Tienda carries an impressive stock of authentic Spanish ingredients (smoked paprika, dried beans, roasted piquillo peppers) and kitchenware (paella pans, wineskins, rustic terra cotta dishes called cazuelas). With clear photos and thorough descriptions, the Web site is smart and easy to navigate. For the hopelessly addicted, there’s even an RSS feed.
Best bets: Take a cue from Cava’s Christopher McDonald, who uses marcona almonds, known for their large size and slightly sweet flavour, in the restaurant’s fig bread, and watercress and roasted beet salad. Marcona almonds $9.95 for 150 grams. Hand-carved olive wood tapas serving dish $34.95. (Prices are in U.S. dollars.)
Shipping: Charges based on UPS shipping rates, plus the cost of “carefully packing your order”; perishables will not be shipped.
Payment: Visa, MasterCard, Amex, Discover.

A little store in Toano brings the flavors of Spain to Hampton Roads, and anyone else with Web access
Deborah Dowd

A former Navy chaplain, Don Harris' passion for the life, culture and food of Spain began when he was stationed there about 40 years ago.

"When I stepped off the ship into Spain, I felt at home right away," Harris said. "I immediately fell in love with a culture where children are treasured, and generations gather around the family table."

It is a love affair that is evident today as he walks through the small retail shop at La Tienda's headquarters in Toano, near Williamsburg. The Harris family's dedication to offering the very best that Spain has to offer is a central tenet of La Tienda's business strategy.

When it comes to olive oils, the famous Iberico and Serrano hams or Spanish saffron, Harris often works with small producers, farmers and companies, using contacts he has made over the years all across Spain.

He has a personal story for almost every product in his catalog, and he was anxious to share his knowledge of these products during my visit.

One of my favorite stories was about the Spanish saffron he sells. If you are not familiar with saffron, it is one of the world's most precious spices, harvested from crocus sativus. It is the reddish stamens of these flowers that are harvested and then roasted to make the Spanish saffron you can buy. It takes more than 200 crocus flowers to make a single gram of saffron with the average harvest of a family being only eight pounds in a year.

The very best saffron was harvested in the La Mancha region of Spain, but not long ago inferior quality Middle Eastern saffron began flooding the market.

Harris offered to buy saffron from a couple in La Mancha. The couple said they would not be able to produce enough to meet his needs, but they knew of other families who had been saffron growers. And with that Harris and La Tienda helped revive the saffron industry in this small village.

La Tienda's customer base is made up of Spanish expats, people who have traveled to Spain and want to re-create the tastes, sights and smells that they associate with their experiences there, and with about one million Americans traveling to Spain each year, it is a strong and loyal customer base.

The business has continued to grow, fueled by culinary interest in paella and tapas, the Spanish tradition of eating "little bites." According to Harris, food is a close-second to family in Spanish culture, with dishes that showcase the delicious ingredients that come from the various regions of Spain.

Harris educated me on the differences between olive oils, providing sips of two different types — one with a peppery finish and one with a smooth, buttery flavor. They were different than any olive oil I had ever tasted. He told me about the famous black acorn-fed pigs that end up as Iberico hams, only recently imported into the U.S. He convinced me that I was deprived since I have never had real Spanish sherry vinegar, a condition that I quickly remedied.

The Harris family members' experiences in Spain and the stories of the many people who have touched their lives and their business can be found at Don Harris' Reflections, also on the La Tienda Web site (Harris says this is his way to still give a sermon even though he is a retired chaplain.)

Want to re-create the tastes of Spain in your own home, La Tienda-style? The La Tienda Web site tienda.com has recipes for traditional Spanish dishes. I used this resource to make my own version of the Milagros Tortilla, and I found scores of others I cannot wait to try.

Inspired by fabulous ingredients I bought at La Tienda, and armed with the recipe for Tortilla Milagros, I recreated a version of this dish for my family. A Spanish tortilla is not a flat bread as it is in Mexican cooking, but an egg-based dish much like an Italian frittata. My version named after this great shop includes chorizo instead of Serrano ham, and makes a delicious one-dish meal. Serves 4 as a main dish, 6 as part of a tapas meal.

Tortilla La Tienda
1 baking potato, cooked and cut in 1 inch pieces (I microwaved the potato with the skin on)

1/2 medium onion, chopped

1/2 red or yellow pepper, chopped

1 cup chorizo cut into pieces

1 cup shredded Manchego cheese

5 beaten eggs (you can also use 1/2 carton of egg substitute)

1/2 teaspoon bittersweet pimenton (smoked paprika)

1 tablespoon olive oil

Salt and pepper to taste

Spray heavy frying pan with cooking spray and add olive oil. Sauté chorizo pieces and potato chunks until potatoes are browned on all sides. Beat eggs with pimenton and add onion and pepper. Pour wet ingredients into pan, pulling sides in gently with a spatula to allow egg mixture to fill sides. Cover pan and lower heat until eggs are mostly set. Loosen the tortilla and turn over onto plate and slip uncooked side down into pan to let brown. Top tortilla with grated cheese and heat until melted. Cut into wedges and serve.

TRAVEL Q & A
Scott Vogel

Q. In Spain, tourists get to savor delicious Serrano ham practically anywhere but are cautioned that our Department of Agriculture minions will seize the product if we attempt to bring it into this country. Is this true? Why?

A. Your passion for this long-cured Spanish delicacy is to be commended, but is that any reason to dis an entire federal agency? And before you answer, consider this: The only thing keeping out all those mad cows and foot-and-mouth types who lurk among the pigs you love are customs agents and people at the USDA's Animal and Plant Health Inspection Service. People like Masoud Malik.

"Our regulations do not allow any meat products to be brought in from certain countries" by private individuals, he told us. "That includes all of Europe and all ruminant meats from there: cattle, sheep, goats, any animal with four stomachs."

Four stomachs? Wait, is a pig a ruminant?

"No, but they have their own diseases as well," Malik said, among them swine vesicular disease and classical swine fever. He went on to warn that the agents that cause disease "cannot really be inactivated by normal cooking and heating. So that's why we do not allow it." (For more information on import restrictions, see http://www.aphis.usda.gov or call 301-734-3277.) Further, people who try to enter the United States with, say, a pig's leg stuffed in their pants "are taking a chance not only for them, but for the livestock of this country," Malik said.

Coincidentally, Malik has just returned from inspecting a plant in Spain, one that he approved for shipping meat to the United States. Why not make it easier on yourself and secure your Serrano from a company such as La Tienda? The Williamsburg importer's prices aren't cheap, but for those with a fever for swine, there's currently no better option (800-710-4304, http://www.tienda.com).

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Jim Raper

VIRGINIA is for sangria lovers! That's never been truer than it is today.

No beverage tastes any better at a picnic on a warm Virginia day than ice-cold sangria. Also, as it happens, quite a few of the least expensive Virginia wines have the soft fruitiness you want in a sangria, and the state produces plenty of tree fruit such as apples and peaches to slice and dice and add to the mix.

But we in the Old Dominion have an even more timely reason to lift a glass of the ruby beverage. We can celebrate the repeal of Sangria Prohibition. A new law recently signed by the governor makes it legal for the first time in nearly 75 years for the states restaurants and clubs to serve so-called authentic sangria that includes wine and spirits.

Publicity stemming from the 2008 General Assembly was bound to stir up interest in sangria. Wrote one blogger on a legislative watchdog Web site that tracks bills, Does anyone have a recipe for sangria? What is actually in the stuff?

The name is the same

Sangria is so refreshing you would think that every country that grows grapes and tree fruit would have its own version and moniker for this beverage. But the Spanish and possibly the neighboring Portuguese seem to have contributed the basic recipe and name that most people use.

All around the globe, be it at a pizza restaurant in Virginia Beach, a Middle Eastern restaurant in Boston or a sidewalk caf in French Catalonia, when you want a pitcher of this punch, you ask for

sangria. Increasingly popular, too, is sangria blanca made with white wine or sparkling wine, and you also might come across rosado sangria or rose sangria made with pink wine.

The name comes from the Spanish word for blood, sangre (the Portuguese word is sangue).

Sangria ingredients

The basic sangria recipe calls for a nontannic red wine as the base. A not-so-fussy Virginia wine such as Rockbridge Vineyards Tuscarora Red ($8) is good, as are examples for $10 or less of garnacha/grenache-based wines from Spain and France, tempranillos from Spains Rioja, zinfandels from California or shirazes from Australia. If you prefer your sangria blanca, try verdejo from Spain, vidal or seyval blanc from Virginia or chenin blanc from South Africa.

Whether youre using red or white wine as a base, make sure the wine tastes more of fruit than of oak.

Citrus juice and citrus slices are found in most sangrias. Oranges are typical as an ingredient and garnish, while lemons and limes also are popular. Other common ingredients are: sugar, simple syrup, superfine sugar or even brown sugar; a tablespoon or so of brandy per cup of wine; sparkling water or citrus soda to taste; and spice such as cinnamon and coriander. For sangria with more vigor, drop a small, seeded chile into the pitcher.

You can improvise with whatever other fruit is available. Apples, pears and peaches are often used in sangria. Nectarines, mangoes, kiwi fruit and star fruit are beginning to show up, as are strawberries, blueberries or raspberries. Pomegranate or cranberry juices are called for in some recipes.

Mix your sangria at least an hour before you serve it. Ice is an option to add just before serving.

Sangria history

There is no way to prove this, but it seems probable that the first batch of sangria was made in Andalusia, the most southerly region of Spain around Seville.

Oranges and other citrus fruits of the region are of high quality, which is more than can be said for the regions red wine. So, according to a popular story about the origin of sangria, a resourceful Andalusian trying to make the red wine more palatable came up with the idea of mixing it with chopped fruit and letting it steep for a day or so. If even more flavorings were called for, in went a little Spanish brandy, perhaps a few sticks of cinnamon, and sugar to taste.

In America, sangria got its big break courtesy of Spanish concessionaires at the 1964 Worlds Fair in New York. Wrote The New York Times in August of that year, This Spanish drink is proving as popular at the current Worlds Fair as iced tea did at a previous one.

Serving sangria

Most restaurants in our country that serve Spanish cuisine have sangria on the menu. But sangria also is popular here at restaurants classified as Mexican or Latin American, and increasingly so at pizza restaurants. Icy sangria, unlike most undoctored wines, pairs well with hot chili and spicy dishes.

Don Harris, an owner of La Tienda, a company that sells Spanish foods, wines and household items from a shop near Williamsburg and online at www.tienda.com , says the popularity of sangria has grown recently together with the popularity of tapas, the small plates of foods that at their simplest contain olives, shaved dry-cured ham or cheese, such as Manchego. Harris said sangria goes best with informal eats such as tapas. His family lived in Spain for several years, he said, and experienced sangria as a hot-weather wine cooler of a beverage made of ordinary wine and fruit and citrus soda.

Some may add a little brandy, but when you start pouring in Cointreau or some other high-end orange liqueur, thats like adding $100 worth of lobster to a paella. Thats simply not what the most folks do.

La Tienda sells the terracotta and ceramic pitchers that Spaniards traditionally have used for sangria, and Harris said he soon will stock sangria service sets of pitchers and matching cups.


Sangria Prohibition repealed!

Headlines such as Virginias Sangria Ban at Issue in 2 Hearings and Virginia Wine Law Makes It the Laughingstock of the Nation began showing up in newspapers and on Web sites right after the 2008 General Assembly session got under way in January.

Seems that a law that had been on the states books since the end of Prohibition made it illegal for a restaurant to serve wine or beer mixed with spirits. Because wine-based sangria is usually spiked with plain or flavored brandy, schnapps or vodka, the Old Dominions restaurants and clubs could not legally serve the so-called authentic sangria.

When a restaurateur in Northern Virginia found out about the law the hard way he was cited for a crime that carried the potential of a year in the slammer he complained to his legislators, according to the Washington Post. This resulted in measures to legalize sangria that won overwhelming support in both chambers of the 2008 General Assembly.

Nevertheless, the legislature may need to do a little more work on the ABC laws. The new exemption applies only to sangria. There is nothing to keep Virginia ABC agents from cracking down on scofflaws who serve other drinks that contain both spirits and wine or beer, such as kirs, kir royales and the newly popular beer cocktails.

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Don Harris's passion for Spain turned into a family affair and a successful business.
Nick Patterson

Don Harris loves Spain so much he brings it home with him one piece at a time.

He shares this obsession with family and friends through his retail business-La Tienda: The Best of Spain in America in Toano, Virginia.

People who live near the unadorned storefront near Williamsburg may not even know it's there. But Spanish immigrants know "the shop"-which is what the name La Tienda means. Others who appreciate Spanish food and culture as much as Don have discovered it too.

Many of Don's customers - 80,000 a year buy from his Web site - are equally committed to introducing Spanish culture to Americans. Those customers include high-end establishments such as Blackberry Farm, celebrity chef Mario Batali, and famed Spanish chef Jose Andres of the Washington, D.C.-based restaurant Jaleo.

"The Harris family has a tremendous passion for Spain and Spanish food and wine, and they have turned that passion into a suc­cessful business," Jose says. "No one can doubt the role La Tienda has played opening the American market to Spanish products."

Espana Exported-- Among the 600-plus products La Tienda carries, none was more eagerly awaited than the Jamon Iberico, a ham made from Spain's black pigs. The ham literally melts in your mouth, but its price tag is what may leave your jaw dangling. Depending on which variety you choose, Jamon Iberico runs $800 to $1,600 per ham. And it's sought after by those in the know.

Until recently, it's been illegal to sell Jamon Iberico in the U.S. because of USDA regulations. But late last year, the venture called Fermin USA, which includes Jose, Spanish producer Santiago Martin, and investing partners Rogers Collection, succeeded in importing Jamon Iberico. Now La Tienda, which had a waiting list of 400 buyers eager to get their hands on the hard-to-come-by hams, is one of the few places you can buy it.

"As one of the major retailers of Spanish products in America, we expect La Tienda will sell plenty of our Iberico ham to American consumers," Jose says. "My chefs at Jaleo order many Spanish products from La Tienda. We have an ongoing conversation about products that are available, products we want. La Tienda also was very supportive during the filming of Jose Made in Spain, my new show for public television. We work together because we all share the same mission of bringing the best of Spain to America."

Amor Por Espana -- The arrival of the ham represents a dream come true for Don, whose affection for the country began years ago when he was stationed there as a chaplain in the U. S. Navy. "We loved the warmth of the people," Don says. The atten­tion lavished on family and social occasions in Spain, which often revolve around food, also captivated the Harrises.

When Don retired, he and his wife, Ruth, built their home in Williamsburg and began trying to recapture that way of life. The result is a business in which the Harrises work alongside their sons and their families dealing in "all Spanish, only Spanish" goods.

They began with Spanish tiles and incorporated them into their own home, before trying their hands at importing and selling them through the Web site they created in 1996. "We started getting a response from Spaniards in the states," Don says.

Meanwhile, son Tim brought the idea of importing Jamon Serrano, a pink pig that's less expensive than those that wind up as Jamon Iberico but still prized in Spain and also legal in the U.S. When they put a picture of Jamon Serrano onto their Web site, the response was huge. That led to customers recommending other Spanish food items and eventually to the creation of La Tienda.

"We started with no money," Don recalls. "We were trying to devise something to do together. At the beginning, Ruth and I thought it would be just a nice little cottage industry. It turned out to be far more."

Foodie Nation -- The shop filled a need as Spanish immigrants in this country hungered for a taste of home. "Spaniards are very food-oriented," Don says, adding that conversations over meals big and small dominate daily life in Spain. "These social interactions with food are very important to them. So when they come to the U.S. - it's not. People eating sandwiches at their desks. People eating fast food. They felt very lonely, and that's why there was a great response."


Responding to that need, La Tienda grew and expanded repeatedly into larger and more suitable locations. Now the store stocks mostly food and wine, as well as kitchenware, ceramics, gift baskets, and cookbooks. Don maintains an online newsletter, telling stories of Spaniards living in traditional ways, alert­ing customers to new products, and per­petuating a link between cultures.

Culture of Home -- Similar changes have finally made the Iberico "super ham" importable to America. As important as that is to the bottom line and to the hundreds who crave the delicacy, La Tienda is about more. The success of the business depends on continually reflecting an appreciation of Spanish values, Don says.

"The virtue of traditional Spain is their commitment to children and families and support of one another," Don says. "Our appeal is that we're very knowledgeable of Spain and Spanish products. The people who we get the products from are colleagues and friends. So the whole tone of this is fam­ily. People like that. We like that."

La Tienda: The Best of Spain in America: www.latienda.com or 1-800-710-4304.

Lorraine Eaton

This week, hams at local groceries can be had for less than $1 a pound. Drive over to La Tienda, a Spanish market just west of Williamsburg, and you can get a whole ham for a few hundred bucks.

“Do you mean the million-dollar ham? Or the trilliondollar ham?” Don Harris joked on a recent afternoon when we arrived to experience the high-priced hog at his family’s small market in Toano.

What Harris really meant was:

Did we want the Fermin jamon serrano?

What it is - That’s literally “mountain ham” from a “white” breed of pig similar to the porkers that please American palates. These are dry cured – without smoke and most of the salt we Southerners are used to – in the Spanish mountains for 15 months. The cost A whole bone-in ham costs $269.

Or did we mean the jamon Iberico?

What it is - This “noble” breed of black-hoofed, black-skinned pig is a native Spaniard. Harris’ hams hail from the site of a medieval mountaintop village. The tall, long-snouted, skinny-legged swine gorges on grains and corn and develops a layer of fat sometimes 2 inches thick. More fat means the hams can be cured longer, resulting in more intensity of flavor. The dry-curing process takes up to three years. The cost A whole, bone-in ham runs $800.

Or did we mean the jamon Iberico de bellota?

What it is - This is the culinary king of Spain. Like its brethren that lacks the bellota surname, this Iberico pig also starts with a diet of grain and corn. But clans of bellota-to-be are raised together, and a few months before slaughter they are turned out into the “dehesa,” Spain’s prized forests of Holm oak and cork trees. The pigs forage endlessly on the trees’ acorns, or la bellota, fatten up and develop a rich, purplish, marbled, slightly salty meat tinged with a nutty sweetness. The cost A boneless ham runs about $1,400.

Want a whole jamon Iberico de bellota? Get in line.

Harris has a waiting list of 300 people from across the country who have plunked down a $200 deposit. The hams are expected to arrive in July, although quarter-pound packages of hand-sliced Iberico de bellota paleta, meat from the shoulder, are now available at La Tienda’s market and its online store, www.tienda.com, for a mere $34.50.

Harris, a retired Navy man, fell in love with Spain years ago. He and his family started La Tienda a decade ago, and today it’s a thriving online market for epicures with a taste for Spain’s finest. He’s worked for years to get the prized Iberico hams into the United States. USDA rules prohibited Iberico’s import, but finally a slaughterhouse in Spain secured USDA approval and the first Iberico ham arrived in the States in December.

“We’ve been working on this for 10 years,” Harris said. “We had to get it. It’s the signature product of Spain.”

While Americans might balk at the hefty cost, Harris listed a litany of reasons for the fat price tag. The blood of the pigs is tested for pedigree – only those with a certain percentage of Iberico blood will be finished as bellota. The pigs live a longer life compared to domestic pigs and therefore cost more to raise. Mature pigs are tested to assure that the animal has acquired a certain percentage of oleic acid from the acorns. The dehesa where the pig families graze on acorns is being eyed by developers, making it more expensive to maintain the forest pastures.

In addition, demand has increased. French, Japanese and American epicures have become jamon junkies, lusting for a taste of the amber-marbled meat that glistens when sliced. And a healthy Spanish economy means that more Spaniards can afford their country’s best jamon.

The jamon Iberico de bellota destined for La Tienda spend their last day listening to Mozart. The next morning, they get a hot shower and are gassed; it’s about as stress-free a death as possible, Harris said.

“Anxious pigs will produce things that affect the flavor of the meat,” he said. “If you pay $100 a pound for meat, that’s relevant. It’s irrelevant for $2-a-pound pork chops.”

Curing can take from three to five years. Then there’s the Euro-vs.-dollar issue.

“They aren’t fleecing us,” Harris said.

But this might not make a main course ham for your traditional Easter table. In Spain, whole hams resting on special stands are left on kitchen countertops. Friends and family slice thin wafers at their leisure; think proscuitto, not a main course. A thick slice of fat or an olive oil-soaked rag is placed over the cut to stop the meat from drying out.

Harris sells ham holders, too.

One of his wait-listed customers recently called about the $69 ham holder on his Web site.

You don’t think I want to display my $1,400 ham in a $50 holder? she asked.

The solution is on display in the La Tienda market, a gleaming mahogany stand with an apparatus that turns the ham, eliminating that muss and bother. The price: $950.

We already knew that the oldest ham hails from Smithfield. Now, we know that the most expensive hams are just a Sunday drive away.

Lorraine Eaton (757) 446-2697
 

Marlene Parrish & R.L. Wolke

Iberico pigs enjoy a free-range diet of acorns under holm oak trees near the town of Badajoz in the Spainish region called Extremadura.

Iberico ham is the pride of Spain. Like Beluga caviar or Kobe beef, Jamon Iberico is the ultimate ham. Many believe it to be the very best in the world.

Until recently, Iberico had been unavailable in the United States due to issues with processing that have been addressed; it now conforms to federal regulations. Finally, in December, the first Jamones Ibericos arrived. In celebration of its debut, the first ham was sliced by Spanish and American celebrity chef Jose Andres at Jaleo in Washington, D.C. The Spanish ambassador to the United States cadged one of the first slices.

Ah, but the best is yet to come. The crown jewel, top-of-the-line, best-of-the-best Spanish ham is Jamon Iberico de Bellota. These rare hams come from animals who spend their days feasting on the oil-rich acorns (bellotas) from oak trees, which infuse their meat with flavor. This acorn-fed ham will be arriving in America in late summer.

With apologies to my Italian friends, a side-by-side comparison with Jamon Iberico de Bellota makes Italian prosciutto taste like chipped ham.
Tasting is believing

I had the enormous good fortune to savor this ham eight years ago on my birthday. My husband, Bob Wolke, and I were traveling in Extremadura in western Spain with food journalist friends. It was a bright, sunny November day in "the land of the pig," and we were invited for a mid-afternoon meal on the estate of a family who raised the prized hogs.

When our van got stuck in a muddy rut, we walked the rest of the way to the manor house through the fields under the trees. The free-ranging pigs were all around us, and while they were somewhat curious, they mostly ignored us and kept nuzzling acorns on the ground.

I swear they seemed content and happy. Why not? They were living in a porky paradise, eating all they could hold, their every need cared for.

The lunch served that day on the patio was so locally produced I could see the sources. The table was set with bowls of black and green olives and flasks of recently pressed and unfiltered olive oil, both from the olive grove nearby. There were platters of cheeses, and yes, I could see the cows. Egg-and-potato Spanish tortillas were bright yellow from the yolks of the chickens pecking for grubs off to the side of the kitchen. There were platters of pork charcuterie, cazuelas of pork stew and baskets of rustic bread. Dessert, a nut tart, was made from the delicious acorns that the pigs feast upon. What a brilliant touch of continuity, I thought.

But all eyes were on the ritual slicing of the Jamon Iberico de Bellota. The whole, black-footed leg was clamped horizontally to a special stand. A man holding what looked like a short conductor's baton stood beside it. Before beginning, he inserted the baton, a thin horse bone, into the meat, removed it, and sniffed. He gave a short nod to indicate he liked what he smelled. He then used a long, thin slicing knife to cut away a layer of fat, which would be reserved to cover the cut surface to keep it from drying out. He rhythmically removed paper-thin slices about 3 inches long, overlapping them slightly on a serving plate. Each slice, streaky with marbled fat and rosy-to-winey-to-mahogany in color, had a wide edge of glistening fat.

As we held a slice in our palms, the fat began to melt. We then tasted the first pieces by warming them on the tongue to release the nutty aroma. The taste was incredibly delicious, intense and concentrated, not salty or sweet, but more like umami. We alternated tastes of Iberico with bread dipped into the olive oil and sips of local red wine. The trio of flavors resonated on the palate. It was unforgettable bliss.

That melt-in-the-mouth fat consists of 55 percent oleic acid, the heart-healthy monounsaturated fat found in olive oil. These pigs' fat is much more like vegetable oil than animal fat.

"I've been told by growers like this one that the acorn-fattened Iberico pig is like an olive tree on four legs," said our friend Janet Mendel. Ms. Mendel, an American writer who has lived in Spain for many years, is the author of six books on Spanish cooking, including "Cooking From the Heart of Spain" (Morrow, 2006). "About 90 percent of what makes this a superior ham has already been accomplished before the pig is even slaughtered. This is the real deal. It never gets better than Bellota."
Back story

The lineage of the black-hoofed (pata negra) descendants of native boar that produce these hams goes back to pre-history, when they ran wild in the Iberian Peninsula. Later on, Christopher Columbus, a fellow with an eye for fine provisions, had some of these pigs on the Santa Maria when he set out to discover the New World.

There are two types of these pigs; one lives the life of a normal domestic pig, and one is free-range fed on acorns and wild plants. The only difference is in diet and exercise, but those things make all the difference in the world.

From birth, the hogs destined for Bellota quality are treated royally. They live, sleep and forage in the open in specially maintained oak forests, called "la dehesa," which is a unique ecosystem of meadow, grass and scrub dotted with holm and cork trees. The pigs typically have more than five acres in which to forage and roam, and they live for about two years in this setting -- longer than the life span of a normal domestic pig.

When they bulk up in the fall, the pigs put away 15 to 20 pounds of acorns a day, allowing them to gain as much as 2 pounds daily. The Spanish have a reverent term for their eventual slaughter -- the hams are "sacrificed."

After a vet inspects the carcasses, they are cleaned and chilled. Butchers then carve the legs for hams.

Processing the hams takes time, however. They are trimmed and sculpted by removing the skin but leaving about an inch of fat. Then they are salted and left for a week after which they are washed and sent to hang in a drying room for a few months. Finally, they are hung to age from two to four years, when, like fine wine and cheese, the hams mature and develop flavor.

Spaniards consume the vast majority of these rare Bellota Iberico hams. Some producers have waiting lists for several years for their best products, because they can't produce enough hams to meet the demand. Besides Spain, France and Japan are the big customers. The United States just joined that list.
Three little pigs

How do you know you are getting the real deal? Read the label, pay the price.

• Iberico Bellota. The best-quality Iberico carries this label. Within Spain, this ham has four geographical Denominations of Origen, all in southwestern Spain. There is a consortium named Real Iberico whose producers label their product with a certificate of guarantee. These are the hams that should be available in the United States in late summer. Should, I say, because shipping and importing variables may prevail.

• Iberico. This ham is produced from the Iberico breed, but fattened on pig feed and grain. While Jamon Iberico is the formal name, pata negra or "black hoofed" is the informal term or nickname because many Iberico pigs have a black foot.

• Serrano. A third kind of Spanish ham is made from ordinary pigs, country cousins of the Iberico. Serrano ham is made anywhere in Spain from cross-breed pigs. This is the ham that is found in every tapas bar and restaurant.

But beware. When purchased, all three types must be held at ideal conditions and be freshly sliced, thinner than thin.
Where to buy

In Spain: The biggest department store chain in Spain is El Corte Ingles. On the lower level of the larger stores is a supermarket. It's a must-stop for tourists who want to bring home Spanish ingredients such as smoked pimenton (paprika) or canned fish. Hanging from the ceilings in the butcher area are rows and rows of whole hams. Small cones attached to the bottoms catch drips of fat. All of the whole bone-in Iberico hams have hooves, or patas, attached, to prove that they are true Ibericos. Buy a few slices along with a loaf of bread and bottle of wine and some olives and have a mini-picnic, even if it's in a hotel room.

In the States: Iberico ham is now available in high-end food stores in New York, Washington, Chicago and other large cities, but not in Pittsburgh. It costs upwards of $50 a pound, or about $800 for a whole, bone-in ham. When Iberico de Bellota is available in late summer, the price probably will be about double the Iberico.

You aren't going to plop this pricey baby on the counter and hack away with a Swiss army knife. You need to have accessories -- a thin, stainless steel carving knife and a ham holder. At La Tienda, an importer of Spanish goods, a hardwood ham holder with swivel grip is available for $950 plus shipping. They also have the Salamanca model at $595, and the cheapest all-purpose ham-holder at $69. But then what would your friends say?

Shop for hundreds of Spanish items including all the hams mentioned here at www.latienda.com.

Catalan Toasts Pan Catalan

In Catalonia, this is called "bread with tomato." Elsewhere in Spain, it is called "Catalan Toast." It is served as a tapa, but makes a wonderful breakfast treat. An icon of the foods of Spain, this is best when tomatoes are at the height of the season.

* 1 ripe tomato
* 6 diagonally sliced pieces of baguette about an inch thick
* 1 clove garlic
* 2 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
* 6 thin slices serrano ham, about 2 ounces

Cut the tomato in half crosswise and grate it coarsely, discarding the skin. Arrange the bread slices on a broiler pan and toast both sides. Rub each toast with the cut side of a clove of garlic. Spread the tomato pulp on top. Drizzle each with olive oil. Arrange the ham on top.

Makes 6 pieces. (If you love the toast, it will serve 2 or 3.)

-- "Cooking From the Heart of Spain" by Janet Mendel (Morrow, 2006)
Marlene Parrish can be reached at mparrish@post-gazette.com or 412-481-1620.

A pinch of this and that for the culinary crowd.
Compiled from staff and wire reports by Food Editor Heather McPherson.

Paprika par excellence

Smoked Spanish paprika has been praised by chefs and adventurous cooks alike. Recently, sweet and spicy versions of the spice started showing up in supermarkets, gourmet stores and the specialty foods section of wine and spirits stores. We found La Chinata brand at our favorite online source for Spanish ingredients, Tienda.com. Depending on the retail source and package size, the fragrant russet powder costs $5-$40.