jamon

Not Without My Jamon

Andalusia, jamon

About halfway through our trip to Andalusia, the U.S. restricted air travel from Europe, and Spain declared a state of emergency.  We sat on the rooftop terrace of our house in Guajar Faraguit, a quiet village in a wide canyon above the Strait of Gibraltar, and tried to make sense of it all. We sniffed the breeze, hoping to gain insight as to what, if anything, we should do about these developments. But all we could smell was orange blossoms.

Secreto Iberico

Agriculture, Spanish

“Quien corta el jamon en tu casa?” asked butcher, his breath smelling of wine. “Who cuts the ham in your house?”

“Yo,” I said, raising my hand. “Venga, entonces” he beckoned. “Come here, then.”