For some time I've been meaning to take a photograph of the hanging jamon legs in a supermarket or delicatessen but every time I take my camera with me I get frustrated by there being too many people in the way, or the shop is closed, or I get the very distinct impression it wouldn't be welcome.
Anyway, the other day we were in Mercadona, one of Ronda's local supermarkets, and miracle upon miracle, the jamon was all nicely arranged on the shelf, the guys who normally cut the ham weren't at the counter, and I was almost alone standing in front of it.
Quick as a flash I whipped out my trusty pink camera, clicked the on switch and surreptitiously aimed the lens at the jamon on the back wall. I thought being in a large supermarket with staff and customers all around that I'd be less obvious.
Didn't work! The first photo was all off, out of focus and to top it off the angle was all wrong, it almost looked like the floor was the wall. In a panic because folk were starting to walk towards me I stood straight, held the camera up and steady, snapped my shot, and without looking at a soul switched it off, put it back in it's little case, then looking studiously down into the trolley went off to find the other half.
I have no idea if anyone noticed, and if they did what there reaction was, it's possible I was being too sensitive but I mean, who takes a photo in a supermarket. I was almost expecting the local police to want a word in my ear. Heaven help me if anyone should think I'm a perv taking pictures of the ladies without their consent.
No no, nothing as normal as that, I was taking a picture of the jamon wall, which really isn't even all that sexy but must have looked mighty strange. On the other hand it tastes wonderful.
Thinly sliced jamon is a popular favorite with me and probably most Spaniards, and in Ronda is served in every Tapas bar. Here's what they do, the slice the jamon so thin you can see right through it, almost, yet it still has an intense taste, and of course is very greasy.
Then 3 or 4 pieces of jamon are arranged inside a baguette without butter, then a local cheese that is quite hard and flaky is placed on top of this, and finally liberal dashes of olive oil are sprinkled on top. This is called a bocadillo, which is just Spanish for sandwich.
Eating one of these bocadillos almost always ends up with a very greasy olive oil coated chin, and if you're like me and don't wear an apron or fold a serviette over your collar, then you'll probably end up with an olive oil stain on your shirt as well.
Let's ignore the issue of me ruining clothes every time I eat Tapas in Ronda and concentrate instead on the ritual involved in eating this very special bocadillo.
It would be easy to say a sandwich is just a sandwich, in fact this would be the case if the jamon wasn't so chewy and almost impossible for me to cut with my teeth when I take a bite. This invariably means that I have to grab hold of the bocadillo with just the right amount of force to make sure I'm holding onto the jamon forcefully enough that it doesn't all come out of the baguette as I bite down. With me so far?
The problem with holding the baguette so hard that you can rip the jamon with your teeth is that the liberally sprinkled olive oil inside the baguette is then squeezed out of the bottom of the baguette onto my lap. So, the constant battle to eat the chewy baguette without ruining both my shirt and my trousers causes endless amusement to those around me.
And on that note I'm going to stop before I say anything more to incriminate myself. If you want to read more about jamon and the intricacies of cutting it, check out
IberGour.
