PIERRE OTEIZA, HAMS AND SAUSAGES BY APPOINTMENT

Published in FT Weekend, 1.12.07

Not long ago, Pierre Oteiza, champion charcutier from the tiny Vallée des Aldudes in France’s deepest Pays Basque, threw a party. Nothing too startling there – the Basque people are no slouches when it comes to partying.
    But this was no ordinary shindig. Oteiza, aided by some 200 family members, friends and fellow farmers, was celebrating his promotion to the ranks of Chevalier of the Légion d’Honneur, France’s award for outstanding achievement in military or civilian life. (The party began at 11 a.m. and finished at 2 the following day.)
    Oteiza’s award was made on two counts. First came his unmatched Basque hams, sausages, pâtés and conserves, which famously accompany the French rugby team on tour - no post-match buffet is complete without an array of his exceptional produce, by special appointment to les Bleus. Selected products are also sold in high-class outlets Europe-wide, including London’s arch-foodie Borough Market.
    The second reason for the award was Oteiza’s conservation work in saving a rare breed of pig - the small, floppy-eared, piebald cochon basque that’s indigenous to the area. Together with a group of local farmers in the Vallée des Aldudes, Oteiza founded the Basque Native Pig Breeders Association. Their aim was to lift the numbers of cochons basques out of their endangered zone and to restore the breed to its rightful place in the local farming economy, thus enabling young farmers to stay on the land and bringing much-needed employment to this small rural area.
    I tracked down Oteiza recently in this unspoilt and remote corner of France. It’s a stunning area of undulating pastures punctuated by sparsely wooded, gently rolling hills with small mixed farms, some crops but mainly livestock – cows, sheep and pigs. You could be in deepest Devon, save for the dramatic backdrop of the Pyrenees, their tops snow-dusted in the autumn. The border with Spain is just visible at the end of the valley – Pamplona is barely 40km away.
    On arrival we were invited to tag along with a group of visiting master butchers and their wives, climbing first to the wooded hillside behind the plant to see the pigs in their natural habitat, followed by a tour of the plant where the hams and sausages are salted, cured and dried. The visit would finish in the dining room behind the shop where there would be ‘something to taste’.
    ‘We’ll start off in various vehicles’, explained Oteiza, ‘followed by a short climb on foot or, for those who prefer, using 4 x 4s’ (with this he indicated, straight-faced, a couple of donkeys grazing peaceably nearby).
    We soon spotted the small, hardy, pink and black pigs rootling about in the undergrowth and under the ferns, their floppy black ears draped over their eyes and snouts. The animals spend at least 8 months here, wandering their steep moorland pastures and scrubby forests, munching on acorns, beechmast and chestnuts.  Their hindquarters are tattooed with the number 64 (for the Pyrenées-Atlantiques département), the farmer’s ID number and the number of the week in which they were born. These marks remain with them throughout, enabling the finished hams to be traced right back to the live animal.
    Back down in the valley we donned the regulation hairnets, overalls and galoshes, ready to acquaint ourselves with the ham-curing process. First the hindquarters are salted - one day for every kilo of weight. The hams are then scrubbed to remove excess salt and stored in a ventilated, chilled room for 6-8 weeks to stabilise and firm them up.
    Next they spend up to 7 months suspended in serried ranks in a special room where the temperature is allowed to undergo quite wide fluctuations. (‘Are the hams fumés (smoked)?’ asked one of the butchers’ wives. ‘No, just parfumés (perfumed)’ quipped Oteiza, eyes twinkling beneath the black Basque beret.) The final step is the drying, which takes place out in the fresh air but protected from the elements. ‘The warm wind that blows through the valley from Spain is vital to our hams and sausages’, explains Oteiza, ‘it gives them a distinctive flavour and helps to dry them out.’
    Our appetites suitably whetted, we trooped into the dining room where trestle tables covered with brightly striped Basque tablecloths were laden with ‘something to taste’: huge platters of wafer-thin, deep red Aldudes Valley ham, chunky slices of air-dried saucissons, plump ‘Jesus’ sausages (‘so wonderful you can only bend the knee before them’ according to one enthusiast), slivers of spicy chorizo and pâtés enriched with ceps or spiked with piquant Piment d’Espelette.
    The local rosé wine flowed freely, baskets of crusty country bread were passed around. After a while we pushed back our chairs and folded our napkins. ‘What a superb lunch’, we said, preparing to shake hands all round and to offer profuse and heartfelt thanks.
    The assembled company of master butchers, their wives and our hosts looked on aghast at what they clearly construed as the anglo-saxons’ miserable appetites and premature departure. ‘But that was just the appetizer’, protested Monsieur Oteiza.
    More platters of food were wheeled in, this time steaming roasts of Basque pork and haricot beans with lashings of red wine, followed by cheese. There was undoubtedly dessert, but our nerve and our appetites conclusively failed us. We retreated, reciting excuses, reiterating our thanks – and reflecting that whatever the reason for France’s exit from the Rugby World Cup, it certainly can’t have been due to any deficiency in their catering arrangements.           

To order a Basque ham for the holidays (around 7.5kg costing from €172.50), or a Christmas selection of Oteiza products, contact:

Pierre Oteiza,  64430 Les Aldudes, France

Tel. +33 (0)5 59 37 56 11

Or order direct from the website: www.pierreoteiza.com