A priest from St.-Flour, a small town in the heart of France, who was struggling to raise funds to restore his cathedral's antique organ, came up with a creative solution. He converted one of the bell towers into a curing workshop for hanging farmers' hams to dry.
About two years later blessed by the local bishoppork legs swayed peacefully in the dry air of the cathedral's north tower, bringing much-needed funds to the delight of deli lovers. Then the inspector of the organization that oversees the architectural heritage of France stepped in.
Noticing an oil stain on the floor of the bell tower, as well as other violations, the inspector ordered the removal of the hams. He said in a December 2023 report that they were a fire hazard, according to cathedral officials. When the cathedral refused to remove the hams, the dispute escalated to the country's culture minister. Rachida Data.
The battle over St.-Flour hams has been widely derided as an example of how overzealous officials can stymie innovative local initiatives. He also spoke about a larger issue France's aging churches are grappling with as they face expensive reparations: Who will pay to preserve the country's vast religious heritage?
After the French Revolution, church properties were seized by the state, which eventually assumed responsibility for controlling most of them. However, the central government and local municipalities have struggled to finance the maintenance of the country's cathedrals and churches.
Restoration of Notre-Dame Cathedral in Paris, turned into ruins devastating fire In 2019, it was funded by approximately $900 million in donations. But in the rest of the country, religious buildings were largely left to fend for themselves.
According to the Ministry of Culture, about 15,000 of the 45,000 religious buildings in France are classified as historical monuments. The ministry said that more than 2,300 of them are in an unusable condition, and 363 are in danger.
“The situation is alarming,” said Hadrien Lacoste, vice president of the Religious Heritage Observatory, an independent nonprofit group. “There's a decline in religious practice,” he added, “and there's a decline in rural demographics.”
Although declining church attendanceCities like St.-Flour, which has a population of about 6,400, see their churches and parishes as defining elements of their identity and feel a strong need to preserve them.
“We realized that each of our churches is a bit of Notre Dame, a village without a church is like Paris without Notre Dame,” said Mathieu Lours, a French historian who specializes in religious architecture.
In France – as elsewhere in Europe – churches are decaying often turns to gyms, restaurants, hotels or apartments.
In St.-Un, a renaissance church adjacent to the cathedral was consecrated and is now a market and cultural space.
Maintaining the cathedral was seen as an important, if expensive, city effort. St.-Un is located in the heart of France's Cantal region, known for its green hilly landscapes and local cheese. In the distance, the cathedral, perched on a rocky peak, looms over the city like a fortress.
You know the saying “all roads lead to Rome”? Patrice Boulard, the meat producer responsible for climbing the 145 steps of the tower, said to stop the hams here. “Here in Saint Un, all roads lead to the cathedral.”
The idea for the healing workshop in the bell tower was the brainchild of Gilles Boyer, the cathedral's rector, after government funding to renovate the church's 19th-century choir organ never materialized.
Mr. Boyer, a foodie who once ran a restaurant in Paris, had already set up beehives on the cathedral's disused terrace to make honey for sale. The bell tower was also an unused place. Why, he wondered, was not used for hanging ham, a feature of the region?
“It all started as a joke,” he said, “but it wasn't that stupid.”
Altitude, a local deli cooperative of about 40 pig farmers, liked the idea, in part because of the marketing potential, but also because of the special air quality and conditions in the tower for curing the ham.
“It creates a connection between business and heritage, product and product his terror“, – said Thierry Bousseau, the company's communication manager.
The project was approved by both state and church officials, and the first batch of hams went on sale in the spring of 2022 at markets, in the church and online, for about $150 each, about $50 more than the average local ham. After recouping the elevation costs, the profits were given to the cathedral.
In all, about 300 hams were sold and more than $12,000 was spent to finally restore the organ, Mr. Bousseau said.
The project was called “Florus Solatium,” after the supposed founder of the city, a fifth-century saint named Florus, whose remains are enshrined in the cathedral. According to legendthe saint miraculously escaped the robbers by reaching the top of the cliff, where the inhabitants welcomed him with the traditional local ham. “Quid solatium!” he shouted. “What a relief!”
Much of the aging of the hams takes place at Altitude's warehouses in the nearby town. But the former rector, Mr. Boyer, is convinced that the three months spent clinging to the tower's wooden posts, exposed to the wind and the vibration of the bell, gives the meat a special quality.
“Most hams are cured in places where the hygrometry is always the same, the ventilation is always the same,” says chef Aurélien Gransagne Restaurant Serge Vieiraa nearby Michelin-starred restaurant refers to the humidity in the air. At the bell tower, he added, “You have ripples, and that's what makes the product special.”
The thick, pink flesh is as good as the best prosciutto from Italy or jamon from Spain, he said. Mr. Gransagne's restaurant offers diners, among other appetizers, rose-shaped slices of meat and a little history of its origins.
Jean-Paul Rolland, who took over from Mr Boyer as rector in 2022, said he decided to put his foot down when the heritage architect declared the project unsafe, given the success of the tower-treated hams.
“The building is dedicated to religious practice,” he said, “so it's not up to the administration what we can or can't do inside.”
He said that the oil stain was probably formed long before the ham was grown on the old parquet floor.
“It's like a landlord telling a tenant they're not allowed to move a painting in the living room,” Mr Rolland added.
He made some minor changes, such as carpeting the floors of the towers and banning visitors from entering. But the hams will continue to hang, he said.
In October, the Minister of Culture, Mrs. Dati, announced her decision: “Detailed investigation” will remain under the condition of investigating the “administrative, material and organizational conditions” for the safe cultivation of hams. e-mail. That process is still ongoing.
Whatever the decision, the hams have become a cause célèbre in a country that values the gastronomic offerings of small producers as much as the country's religious heritage. St.-Un made national headlines and sales of the hams continued to boom. The Elysee Palace in Paris has a standing order for ham every three months, and slices are served at the buffet in June, Altitude says. (It's unclear if President Emmanuel Macron had some attempts, and the Elysée did not respond to requests for comment.)
Still, not everyone at St. Un is happy with the idea of turning the church into a market.
“There were bees, now there are hams. What's next, cheese?” asked 68-year-old Roger Merle, owner of a clothing store in the city.