Get Your Ham On
July 31st, 2006 by Scott
So, while I’m on my carnivorous odyssey, eating as many different tasty animals as I can possibly find (kangaroo turns out to be truly delicious — more on that in a future post), I make it a point to go out to a decent restaurant every now and again and see what all the fuss over these celebrity chefs is all about. Case in point: I recently had the good fortune to check out Bobby Flay’s new midtown outpost, Bar Americain. Yes, it’s spelled that way, don’t ask me why.
I’ve been a fan of Flay’s for a while now, and not just because he’s a hunky redhead like me. No, I’m a fan because I had an excellent meal at what is likely his most well-known Manhattan restaurant, Mesa Grill. Not only were the Southwestern flavors he’s partial to exactly what I was looking for (and markedly different from the Faux French/Pseudo Italian/Pan Asian haute cuisine or “fusion” joints that culinary-school trained artsy fartsy wannabe star chefs are so keen on), but I had a steak tartare appetizer that was out-of-this-world. I mean that literally, too: Our waiter could’ve said “This appetizer was fashioned from the meat of Proxima-Centauri space cows that were lovingly raised on Venutian grass by Xylon androids from the Crab Nebula,” and I would’ve said “No kidding! I’ll take a second order, please, and give my compliments to the Xylons.” It was that good. So when I got to Bar Americain knowing that Chef Flay had a handle on his meat, so to speak, I knew I’d be ordering some. I was in luck — one look at the menu and I saw just the appetizer for me:
Artisanal Ham Tasting
Yeah, there was no way I was passing this one up. All the beautiful, critical elements were right there in the title: Ham (duh!); “tasting” which I gathered to mean that there would be something tasty involved (going out on a limb here); and, most importantly, the word “artisanal,” which you don’t see a whole lot here in the states, because it usually means that a piece of food — namely meat or cheese — has been made by a small time farm or producer that — horror of horrors! — just might leave their products out in the open air for a while, if only to increase the flavor, and who maybe feel for some reason that it might compromise the integrity of their work’s taste if they had to, say, pump it full of chemicals like the good ole USDA wants them to. I’m not an anarchist or anything, but if the government thinks that I’d be safer and happier eating a “pasteurized, processed, cheese-type-product” than a big, veiny, mold incrusted hunk of hand-crafted Roquefort cheese armored with an aroma so profound it could singe your nostril hairs right off…well, let’s just say that it would NOT be a government I’d want to support.
“Artisanal” means, quite simply, “crafted by artisans.” Yes, artisans. The same kind of insanely dedicated, rain-man type obsessives who, for their own pleasure and that of others, decide to make a fifteenth century guitar from scratch or distill absinthe from recipes not seen since Tolouse Latrec got bombed on the stuff, you know, “just because.” These are people who really, really care about what they do, people who know what they’re talking about. And hey, riddle me this: when was the last time you met anyone who you could truly and adequately say “knows what they’re talking about.” If you can count them using more than the fingers of one hand, you’re either a Macarthur Fellow or you’re talking out of your anus. Trust me, these people are not easy to come by.
This is the reason that the word “artisanal” caught my eye. Well, right after the word “ham,” but you know where my priorities lie. There were three different dishes for the sampling here, each prepared using the same prosciutto-style ham from Benton’s Smoky Mountain Country Hams, a small farm in Madisonville, TN (more on them here). Was it any good? I’ll just say this: every other prosciutto I’ve had in my life paled in comparison — waxy, oversalted and tough when put next to this piggy marvel. While each of these three dishes delivered their own unique flavor combinations, the ham was consistently delectable throughout. It was light and paper thin, delicate and soft on the palate, and nicely marbled without being overly fatty. Unlike over-cured grocery store prosciutto, there was no intense chewing needed; the meat almost dissolved right there on your tongue.
As for the three preparations, each one was tasty in its own way. The first had the ham served with diced mozzarella with roasted yellow peppers and a balsamic molasses:
The second dish had the ham paired with mangoes, lime chili frisse and micro arugala:
And the third was the hands-down winner of the bunch, a good old-fashioned ham biscuit. Or rather, this fine artisinal ham served on a black pepper buttermilk biscuit with drizzled honey mustard. Take a gander:
Overall, two great big carnivorous thumbs up for Bar Americain, for Bobby Flay, and, most of all, for the Benton family and it’s stellar artisanal ham. (Click on below thumbnails for full sized images…yum!)
sarah wrote on 08/1/06 at 12:39 pm :
There’s something I find funny about the modfier “artisanal” applied to meat. With artisanal bread, there’s a chef with a bunch of ingredients that don’t look anything like the finished product. I guess the idea of artisanal ham makes me imagine someone sculpting a piggy out of something. Meat, I guess. Anyway. Looks tasty. Bobby Flay is one of my favorite Iron Chefs.
Salubr wrote on 01/26/09 at 4:11 pm :
Love the advice. Thank you.