The below article was copied from the New York Times Website, Travel Section.

November 6, 2005
Explorer

Castles, Caves and Prized Pigs in Southern Spain
By CHRISTOPHER CLAREY

MY first contact with the Sierra de Aracena came in a tapas bar in Seville, more than an hour's drive from the region. Casa Roman was and remains a cacophonous, atmospheric place full of smoke-streaked oil paintings and wooden stools; of neatly dressed, slick-haired locals; and of tourists trying their best to keep their guidebooks tucked out of sight.

Casa Roman became my family's neighborhood watering hole during the many years we lived in Seville's labyrinth of an old city. Yet the bar was renowned not for its ambience, but for its ham. And it is where, in 1996, I first tasted the Spanish acorn-fed variety, jamón ibérico de bellota, that comes from the Sierra de Aracena, the hill country northwest of Seville.

The Spanish have long considered it the world's finest ham, and the world is increasingly in agreement, even though it remains, at least for another year or two, impossible to buy it in the United States.

At Casa Roman, as in many Spanish restaurants, the hams dangle like stalactites from the rafters. As you snuggle up to the bar and reach for your glass of Cruzcampo beer or Fino Quinta sherry, you find your nose only a few inches from the moist, mold-streaked piece of cured meat that is still sweating just enough to require the appendage of a small white cup to trap the occasional drop of golden fat that oozes down its sides at a leisurely, Andalusian pace.

"Our good customers like to say, 'Serve me a ham that cries,' " said Rafael Escobar, a 65-year-old Sevillano who began working behind the bar at Casa Roman in 1983.

Up so close, the smell is vaguely sweet, vaguely musty. But once the ham has been carefully, artfully sliced into thin, dark red, nearly translucent rectangles and placed before you with requisite pride on a plain white plate, the taste is anything but vague: It is an unctuous blend of tender, nutty flesh and savory fat that does not quite melt in your mouth, which is for the best considering that you are in no hurry for it to go away.

Unlike some of the other best things in life, jamón de bellota was not an acquired taste. It was something to relish from the start, even for my two very young daughters, who would devour it by the plateful at no small expense considering that a plateful often costs 15 euros ($18.50) or more. As the weeks turned into months and then years, my family and I began making regular pilgrimages to the region where these remarkable hams were produced.

The Sierra de Aracena has long been a popular weekend retreat for Sevillanos, and it is a place of subtle charm rather than lunge-for-your-camera splendor: much more the Berkshires than the Grand Tetons. None of its peaks exceed 3,000 feet. Its rustic, whitewashed villages are not as postcard-ready as the artfully tended hill towns of Tuscany or the spectacularly situated white towns like Ronda that lie to the southeast of Seville. If you are looking for a week of elaborate, high-end cuisine, you're much better off heading to the rolling countryside of Burgundy or Catalonia.

But there is a roughhewn authenticity in the stone walls, wooded pastureland, medieval castles and unpretentious bars and restaurants of the Sierra de Aracena. It is an area best visited in spring or autumn - the winters are clammy and the summers hot - and when we returned in April for three days of hiking, exploring and eating, it was, as always, not quite enough.

The best-known town is Jabugo, famous because it is the center of the ham industry. The sound of its name is enough to make most Spaniards start scouting for a place to have lunch, but aficionados know that Jabugo is not the only town in this region that produces top-quality ham. Producers like Lazo in Cortegana and Chacón in Cumbres Mayores also have excellent reputations. And, from a scenic perspective, Jabugo, with its scruffy outskirts and inelegant mix of old and modern facades, is hardly the highlight of a region that extends from the clifftop town of Zufre in the east to Aroche in the west, close to the Portuguese border.

The area, part of a protected region that regulates further development, is at its most appealing on the meandering two-lane road of uneven quality that leads from the town of Aracena to Cortegana through rolling, wooded scenery, passing through the hamlets of Linares de la Sierra, Alájar and our family's favorite, Almonaster la Real.

Almonaster's exclamation point is its small jewel of a mezquita, or Moorish mosque, with an attached bullring. The mezquita dates from the 10th century and is the only significant Islamic building in the Sierra. The mosque, with its red brick arcades, is rarely used for worship, and the bulls are fought next door just once a year in mid-August. But the view from the mezquita's steps at sunset - with the undulating green hills changing tones before you - is there in all seasons, and it is one of the finest in these mountains.

It has competition, however, including the more exposed, panoramic view from atop the battlements in Cortegana's well-restored castle, which was part of the defenses built throughout the region in the late 13th and 14th centuries after the reconquest of this part of Spain from the Moors.

A more isolated fortress across the border in Portugal is a scenic detour: north of Aroche to Barrancos and then along a lonely seven-mile dirt track to the castle of Noudar, a birdwatcher's delight that sits high above a big bend in the Ardila River. From Aroche, reaching Noudar takes about an hour, and you can drive to the castle or stop and park when it comes into view and hike the other mile or three. We hiked, which was good for the constitution but not for the reward. We just missed closing time at 5 p.m. and had to peek through slits in the gate to glimpse the resident sheep, goats and guard dogs of this fortified medieval village that was home to 300 people and is now home to a caretaker and his livestock.

Back on the much more beaten track in Aracena the following day, we arrived in time to revisit one of Europe's most remarkable caves - the Gruta de las Maravillas - whose entrance point is not in a remote valley but in the middle of town. Open to visitors since 1914, it has long been the primary tourist magnet in the region, and the cobblestoned path that leads to the entrance is lined with souvenir shops, ham emporiums and restaurants, although the better restaurants are found elsewhere in this pleasant, attractive town of about 7,000.

The remnants of the city's Moorish castle loom overhead, but what is below is more spectacular: more than a mile of mineral formations, crystalline pools and chambers with apt names like the Cathedral. In nearly a century of human impact and less-than-optimal lighting have damaged the cave's integrity, generating algae and lichen growth on some of its features, it is worth the walk and the often cramped quarters.

But the destination should not be the absolute priority in the Sierra de Aracena, which is best treated not as a checklist but as a wandering zone. It is a place to follow the small footpaths that link villages; a place to catch a glimpse of that monastery perched high above the road and try to find a way to reach it; a place to walk into a noisy, humble local restaurant full of families whose children keep migrating from the table to the street and to order a glass of sherry or red wine from Rioja to go with some dish, any dish that comes from the local pigs.

You see the pigs frequently as you travel here, and they hardly resemble the lumbering pink variety that produce fillings for American sandwiches. Iberian pigs are smaller, darker and hairier, with comparatively long and slender legs. They are the descendants of wild boars, although they scatter in a hurry if you make a brusque movement. Their color is where the term pata negra (black leg) originates, and breeders of pata negra maintain that what really separates their pigs from the rest of the world's herd is their unusual metabolism, which allows fat to permeate into their muscles, giving the meat the sort of marbled quality that Texas ranchers appreciate.

The pigs' active lives help in that process. In late October, they are sent into the dehesa - the wooded pastures of Andalusia - for the montanera, where amidst the holm oaks and cork oaks that cover the Aracena region, they stuff themselves on grass and acorns during the fattening process before the slaughter. It has been estimated that each pig will eat 1,000 pounds of acorns or more during the next three months.

After the slaughter, which in Spanish translates as "the sacrifice," they are packed in sea salt for one day for each kilogram (2.2 pounds) of weight and then kept in two types of storage rooms to sweat. From cradle to grave to tapas bar, the process takes at least two years, and though the clientele remains largely Spanish, that is beginning to change.


Top French chefs like Alain Ducasse have also become converts, and several restaurants in Paris now specialize in "Jabugo." There is increasing demand in Japan, and though true jamón ibérico has long been banned in the United States because no Spanish slaughterhouse or curing facilility met United States Department of Agriculture standards, that changed in July when a small producer in northern Spain became the first to receive a permit to export to the United States. Some producers from Aracena are also seeking permits, and one American online store, La Tienda in Williamsburg, Va., is taking preorders on Iberian hams for 2007 or 2008 (estimated price is $800 to $1,000 per ham).

Nonetheless, enjoying the best that the Sierra de Aracena has to offer in the United States won't have the same subtle appeal (or price tag) as enjoying it in the Sierra de Aracena, where the mood and the crowds remain agreeably light, and where the black pigs meet their makers after a long, sweet feed under the oak trees.

Where Ham's the Thing

GETTING THERE
The airport of Seville, the closest major gateway to the region, is about a 90-minute drive from the town of Aracena. But you can also rent a car and make the longer drive from airports in Madrid, Málaga or even Lisbon or Faro in Portugal. There are regular buses to Aracena that leave from Plaza de Armas in Seville (one way, 6 euros; round trip, 9 euros, or $7.40 and $11, at $1.23 to the euro).

WHERE TO STAY
Though supply is increasing, luxury accommodations are not abundant in the Sierra de Aracena. One of the most charming and welcoming options is the guesthouse Finca Buen Vino, (34-959) 124034, www.fincabuenvino.com/house.html, an extensive property in Los Marines, about four miles west of Aracena on the N-433 road. It was built and is operated by Sam and Jeannie Chesterton, who raise their own lambs and pigs, and offer rooms and elegant meals in a family atmosphere in the main house (dinner is 35 euros a person, with wine). There are also three private cottages in an isolated corner of the property. Rates vary by season, peaking in summer at 140 euros for a double, with breakfast, and 800 to 1,000 euros a week for a cottage. The rest of the year, doubles are 120 euros; a cottage is 150 euros a day.

The La Posada de Cortegana, (34-959) 503301, has rustic cabins, too close together for some tastes, about one and a half miles north of El Repilado near Cortegana. Set next to a stream with excellent hiking trails nearby and a reasonably good restaurant on site. Prices, including breakfast, start at 70 euros, double occupancy. Extra beds are 10 to 12 euros. Full board is also available.

WHERE TO EAT
One of the most creative and atmospheric restaurants in the region is Restaurante Arrieros on Calle Arrieros in Linares de la Sierra, (34-959) 463717. The chef, Luismi Lopez, is a former photographer who takes an original approach to the region's local products, such as pork cheeks in red-wine sauce, wild mushrooms caramelized in sweet Pedro Ximénez sherry, and Iberian ham from the town of Corteconcepción. Desserts are also good, particularly the quince paste between slices of mild goat cheese. Lunch only; about 45 euros for two, without wine.

In Aracena, Restaurant Jose Vicente at 53 Avenida Andalucia, (34-959) 128455, has a well-established reputation for serving top-quality pork products; cured legs of ham are hardly the only savory part of the Iberian pig. It also offers top-notch cuts of meat, including the presa and the solomillo (12 euros each).

In Almonaster la Real, Las Palmeras on the Cortegana-Aracena road, (34-959) 143105, has a fine view of the mezquita, and a leafy patio for warm weather. The restaurant serves simple, hearty but excellent fare, and most of the pork products come from the proprietor Alejandro González Vázquez's own stock. The plate of jamón ibérico was one of the best for the price (13 euros) that we tasted, and value for money is the rule. A full lunch for four without wine came to about 50 euros.

Yes, Bill,it is expensive, but ohhh so good!

In Toledo, of all places, my son & I were waiting for a train back to Madrid: son was hungry, so we went to Taberna Ruan just across from the station. We were both amazed at how Rudolfo carved paper thin slices of ham from one that was hanging, without any thought of taking it down from the rafter. The bocadillo de jamon, according to my son, was the best he had eaten in his young life!

The closest you will find to that in the U.S. are the pepper-cured hams one may encounter at some shops along the highways in Kentucky and Tennessee. Probably also West Virginia and southern Ohio. :p

I loved this article and am drooling over the thought of jamon iberico! We spent a beautiful autumn weekend near Aracena and I highly recommend a visit. Don't miss all the wild mushrooms (in autumn, of course). We ate at a bar that offered several types, none of which was familiar to me. A foodie's dream! And just outside the window, a dead buck lay on the sidewalk, unloaded by some hunters. Talk about great ambience. Can't wait to go back.

Gosh....what I wouldn't do for a plate of jamon iberico, some good bread and vino tinto. Oh yeah, now I remember where I am There is only one Spanish restaurant nearby. Don Quijote here in Milwaukee, Wisconsin and it just isn't the same. I wish I had found this site before my last trip to Spain in March. My friends treated us well but I don't think I chose wisely on our own. In my student days I couldn't afford a restaurant or any meat for that matter ....now I am writing down all your tips on places, restaurants, and foods. Thank you MadridMan...especially for the Madrid music for my weekends.