The choice of Gwyneth Paltrow to front PBS's documentary about the food and culture of Spain is a curious one. PBS is revered for its intelligent and original programming, but adding a silver screen icon betrays a certain nervousness about whether or not the show will work without the celeb factor.
Worse still, Paltrow is a long-time vegetarian. Each to their own; on her own time, Paltrow can munch the cud till the cows come home. But sending a vegetarian to explore the Spanish table is akin to entrusting a Picasso exhibition to somebody who just doesn't "do" the colour blue.
Being in a position to exclude foods for ethical reasons, because hunger is no longer an issue, is a modern luxury: one that stands counter to the traditions of much of Europe and, in particular, Spain.
No other country in the world, except perhaps China, has such skill, such an obsession, with all things porcine - nor one that has such a dark history. Bred since Roman times, the celebrated acorn-fed Iberian pig acquired new meaning during the persecution of Jews and Muslims in the 15th century. During the Inquisition, eating pork-based based dishes was used as a test to differentiate Christians from what were termed "fake converts" (another was to identify Jews by looking for homes with stoves unlit on the Sabbath).
The once double-edged pig-chowing has evolved into a great gastronomic gift for all things piggy - there are all manner of silky hams, aged and scented; soups, stews and loins; sausages as far as the eye can see. But the brutal poverty of a country that in many parts functioned along feudal lines well into the 20th century meant that meat was synonymous with a lack of want: an idea not particular to Spain, but one that resonates to this day. Modern Spain has some of the world's best restaurants, which, combined with cultural tourism, constitute one of the nation's most lucrative industries. But real Spanish food is not tiny tasting-thimbles of olive oil.
An actress nurtured in the hothouse of LA turning up her petite nose at food the Spanish prize, in their own house, brings to mind unusually apposite phrases involving "pearls" and "swine".
Paltrow has a number of experts to take up the credibility slack, including someone who knows about food (New York Times food writer Marc Bittman) and a Spaniard (actress Claudia Bassols). But the professed aim to explore culinary roots rather than glitz; to eat grandma's grub rather than chef's, seems disingenuous when it is revealed the group will be surveying the nation's cultural roots in a fleet of Mercedes cars.
I can tell you exactly what grandma's response will be.
