For the last month I have been babysitting a pork leg. My brother called me the day before he left town for three weeks to give me a Jamón Serrano that he just happened to have laying around. He had it since his daughter’s wedding last December, and finally decided to do something with it, but after letting it sit for a week he realized he wouldn’t get to it before he left. His instructions to me were to watch the video on how to slice it, and to save him some. The last request he made was,” if it goes to waste, don't tell me.”
My first thought was that it would not go to waste, because the preservation of these animal parts has been very effective since medieval times and before. Even I couldn’t mess that up...could I?
I drove across the lake and picked it up. After watching the video I was sure I could do this, but lingering thoughts of inferiority plagued me. After another four days of working up the courage to tackle it, I found the sharpest knife I had and commenced slicing as per the steps on the video. I got a few slices off of it, and ran into the immovable bone. The fat coating was so greasy it was hard to even wash it off your hands. I realized quickly I was in over my head, and would likely injure myself if I persisted.
I texted a chef friend on the next Saturday and told him I was bringing him something. He came to the car with me, where Jamón had been riding in the passenger’s seat, the hoof resting on my thigh.
He was amused though not surprised that I was driving around with a Jamón Serrano, and extremely titillated by the opportunity to slice it. We agreed to meet at the restaurant not the next week but the one after, with no specifics set. When the time came I texted him and didn’t hear back, but when I texted again days later he informed me that his wife’s dad was in the hospital.
My brother was set to return the following day, so I called Kim Kringle at The Dakota to ask him to help. Jamón had spent three weeks on a stool at my kitchen island. I had to watch that I didn’t knock into the hoof every time I passed. Kim and I arranged for me to bring it to Dakota the following Friday at 3pm.
I decided to do the show (podcast on wgso.com) from The Dakota, and when I arrived I put it outside on the granite table top in the middle of the back patio. Kim came and brought it into the kitchen. I didn’t want to do it from the kitchen because I didn’t want to be in the way. Kim was worried about the noise in the kitchen making it hard to be heard. The most striking thing about The Dakota's kitchen was not the sounds but the sights. I think it's the single cleanest most spotless kitchen I have ever seen. You really could eat off the floor. We decided to slice it outside.
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Kim and his Chef de cuisine Collin Moreau came out with a cutting board, a bowl, and several sharp knives. And a towel, which was very important. The fat is so greasy even a towel is barely enough.
Within minutes they were into it, leaving just the slightest layer of fat on the edge. Once they got into the section under the fat casing, the meat was a lighter and prettier color. The part that had been cut and exposed to the air was distinctly darker.
The bowl filled up with the fat layer quickly. In only a few minutes there was a large chunk taken out of it. Kim brought it back into the kitchen to slice it on the very sharp electric slicer.
They returned mere minutes later with a plate of crostini, Manchego cheese slices, and a lovely pile of paper thin ham, folded as it fell from the slicer.
It was sliced against the grain, and when held it was thin enough to see your fingers through it. The darker section that looked too old was just as delicious as the lighter part. There was some marbling of fat running through it.
At this rate they would have the entire thing sliced before the show was over, but it was getting close to Friday night dinner service and they had to put it aside.
My brother asked only for a taste and the bone so he could use it for beans. I tried to imagine a big hoof sticking out of the pot. He would need a large cajun festival pot, and I can’t imagine who would eat all those beans. They are saving it for him anyway. I will check back with them in a week to pick up the bone, and to get some more of that delicious Jamón Serrano.
It will be weird not having my charge sitting in the kitchen
