Retreat to the Spanish Sun by Jo Thomas

Author:Jo Thomas [Thomas, Jo]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Random House UK
Published: 2022-05-07T00:00:00+00:00

24

At the bottom of the steps, Josep points to a light switch. I reach up and push it down with a clunk. The lights fizzle, flicker, and finally throw out a dim glow.

I don’t know what I was expecting, but not this.

It’s a cave, the whole length of the property and maybe more, with barred windows at either end, a little open, letting in the mountain breeze. There are archways, and between each one there are rows and rows of tan-coloured, hanging hams. Like stalactites.

‘This is where I have cured ham since I started the business,’ he says. ‘The newest at this end.’ He gestures to the rows of hams, light in colour, and I see how they darken further along the cellar. He puts out his hand to my shoulder and I instinctively dip it for him to lean on and get to his feet.

‘We cover them in salt,’ he points to an alcove, ‘to preserve them.’ Then he hops forward.

‘What are we looking for?’ I ask, as he reaches to use my shoulder as a crutch. He waves towards the far end of the cellar and we walk through the silent cave, through the sea of hanging hams smelling strongly of that salty nuttiness, feeling the years of work that has gone into producing them.

‘These hams, the jamón, are full Ibérico hams. Not diluted in any way,’ he says, working to catch his breath.

‘How long do they stay here?’

‘Mostly up to three years,’ he says. ‘Some, a few special ones, a little longer. It’s what gives them their unique flavour. That, the curing. The air up here and the pigs’ pure breeding. It’s all in the fat and their diet.’ He takes a big breath.

‘So I’ve been learning,’ I say.

‘A leg of ham can take five to six years to produce. It’s a big investment of time, which is why they’re so prized.’

I think briefly about Banderas’s diet of late and decide to say nothing.

‘Up here.’ He nods towards the window at the far wall, and I keep moving, slowly and steadily, letting him lean on me and taking in the rows of hams hanging all around us, until finally we reach the furthest, dimmest, darkest corner of the cave and the strongest-smelling.

I hold up my phone torch in the poor overhead lighting and we stare. I feel him gasp.

And then my battery dies.

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