But do not call him a prosciutto maker. He prefers the term ‘selector’ or the one who proudly continues the Karst tradition of drying prosciutto. This craft was actually laid in his cradle: his grandfather was a village butcher who went from house to house and slaughtered pigs. His payment was usually a leg of pork, which is why prosciutto was always dried in the Komel household. Some ten to twelve legs were hung in the drying facility at a time, and were then smuggled to Italy and sold there.

Prosciutto travelled from house to house among the poor people of the Karst and one leg was eaten by several households. The housewives would also make hearty soups and gelatine from it.

“The Karst is not a region of pigs because there was never enough food to keep them. Large quantities of raw material usually came from elsewhere. However, the conditions for drying are ideal here,” explains Komel in the drying facility of the old farm in Kobjeglava where the fourth generation is now drying prosciutto.

One of the oldest prosciutto-producing facilities, dating to the time before the First World War, was located in Kobjeglava. “After the Second World War, large companies such as MIP, Agrokor, etc. started coming to the Karst and the prosciutto was being dried in large quantities. But after the bankruptcy of MIP in 2008, the ‘kingdom of prosciutto’, as the restaurant was called in which the Komel family began writing their Karst story under the auspices of MIP, suddenly became the ’kingdom without prosciutto,’ Komel remembers.

He became actively engaged in prosciutto production in 2009 after helplessly observing for a few years how the authentic Karst prosciutto was disappearing because the farmers were unable to sell it if their craft was not registered. Close cooperation with farmers is crucial for high-quality prosciutto, as the foundation is high-quality raw material.

“It’s important to establish mutual trust with a farmer. You have to know what the pig is eating. That’s crucial. For example, you mustn’t feed it corn in the last few months before slaughter because fat is generated that is difficult to cut. It’s also important how much space the pig has,” he explains. Komel’s grandfather marked the leg he would take with chalk. The upper leg has much better blood circulation because the pig does not lie on it and so the meat is subsequently better.

“You start making prosciutto in the stable. Like wine, which is also made in the vineyard and not in the cellar,” he says, chuckling at his analogy and taking a giant prosciutto from a hook. When the leg was fresh, it weighted 41 kilograms. After two years of drying, the weight is now down to a little over 30 kilograms.

Tourists drawn to the region by their passion for gourmet charcuterie can witness everything in this drying facility, from dehairing to cutting and salting. The salting phase lasts 3.5 weeks, depending on the size, and takes place between October and December in chambers cooled to 4°C. It is followed by a pressing phase and 2 to 2.5 months of resting at 6°C. Finally, the drying phase follows three and a half months after slaughter. The leg is covered with a protective layer of lard, flour and pepper. Only the area where the hanging string is attached stays unprotected. The pepper is not intended for spiciness but was once used as protection against flies.

The Komel family focuses on larger prosciuttos that mature longer, from 24 to 56 months, and certain extremes. “I enjoy a challenge,” he laughs. As small boutique providers, the Komel family keep almost all of their prosciuttos for tastings and Štanjel Castle.

The concept of the latter was roughly divided into two sections: the interior one where they serve tasting menus and the outdoor one in the castle’s courtyard under the canopies of horse chestnuts, which is reserved for aperitifs and optionally homemade cold cuts platters with cheese, seasonal frtalja (egg omelette) and desserts.

Komel’s youngest daughter Gaja, who once rejected the very idea of alcohol, is now a passionate sommelier, pours Sanabor sparkling wine into our glasses. The wines served by the Komel family usually come from the wineries in the Karst, the Vipava Valley and the Goriška Brda Hills. “They’re colleagues,” says Komel.

At the entrance to the bistro, three containers with various homemade juices, syrups and non-alcoholic cocktails made from local plants can be found alongside a blackboard on which a dessert menu is written every day. On that fine day in May, it read: cheesecake with homemade biscuits and jam, lemon pie with cashews, walnuts, almonds and dates, crostata with white and black chocolate and strawberries, pear crostata with rosemary and almonds and asparagus crème brûlée.

There were also homemade ice-creams: chocolate, pistachio, flower of milk, pine nuts, yoghurt, hazelnut and sage. In addition to prosciutto, herbs and wild Karst plants represent the key part of the cuisine of Simo Komel. He had ventured into the nearby thickets and meadows very early that morning. “I’ve already collected elderflower and wild asparagus this morning. The elderflower season was prolonged this year because of the rain, and we collect more asparagus on the burnt-out areas of last year’s fire,” he explains with a basket in his hand, hurrying towards his secret foraging location.

It is a lovely day. The sun is finally out after a long rainy period. The bora wind is blowing across old stone drywalls, bending the May flowers. There is an aroma of mint, savory and blossoming elderflower in the air. In the distance, the distinctive lemon-shaped belltower of Štanjel can be seen.

The entire clearing is full of savory that Komel uses in his cuisine instead of thyme. He makes syrup, liqueur and even vermouth from it. He made the latter (the first in the Karst) for the first time during the COVID-19 pandemic. The basis for his latest, fourth version of vermouth is Vitovska wine, the indigenous Karst vine variety, to which he added elderflower, wormwood, savory, lemon balm, flowers of St. Lucie cherry, sage and ginger for spiciness.

“Vermouth is primarily a local beverage. Its additional advantage is that it goes really well with desserts, as an alternative to dessert wines that the guests seem to dislike,” Komel explains while returning along a cart track to Štanjel with a basket full of savory and velvety silver-green sage leaves.

The central dining room is lit by the golden early afternoon light that further accentuates the warm tones of the interior design which was the work of Simo and Farzila Komel’s older daughter Karin.

Gaja lays before us an amuse-bouche, a shining giant olive in olive oil with Karst herbs and Piran salt. Simple, but effective. She serves corn crisps with Fonda trout and trout roe on plate of Karst stone. On a small, elegant plate made by the Ajdovščina ceramist Hana Karim, a ring of chicken and duck liver pâté is served with an addition of spicy strawberry and quince jam.

Alluring thin slices of 48-month-old prosciutto of free-range Krškopolje pig stacked into a crescent are a real treat that is elevated from a cold cut to a chef dish with the addition of prosciutto brawn, prosciutto salt, lamb pâté, horseradish cream, Q Komel Teran extract and buckwheat popcorn for a crunchy texture.

“You’ll notice the difference between prosciutto sold over the counter and this one,” Komel promises down in the drying facility, and the high expectations are more than fulfilled. The meat melts in the mouth and the flavours keep evolving long after you have swallowed the last mouthful.

Spring is an extremely gratifying season for chefs like Komel who exploit what nature has to offer. On that day, he made a hearty cream soup from spring shoots such as nettles, wild asparagus, lovage, lemon balm, etc. Practically everything that could be foraged in the surrounding area. He added the finishing touch to the soup with Žerjal goat yoghurt and Lisjak olive oil. The ingredients he uses in his kitchen are from the surrounding farms and producers, if possible, but he also ventures to the coast sometimes.

The next dish included homemade potato gnocchi with a hand-cut ragout of a wild boar hunted down that week with an addition of wild garlic foam and Zidarič aged cow’s milk cheese. In the forms of cheeks and as a fillet, wild boar was also repeated in an excellent main dish accompanied by horseradish purée, charred shallots, herb crumbs and herb oil.

The dessert comprised fresh strawberries, chocolate and basil. The sweet amuse-bouche consisted of house vermouth gelée, canelé with honey and rum and a pistachio biscuit.

At Štanjel Castle, the Komel family also rents the wine shop together with Karst wine producers, and there they hold tastings every Sunday. The wines of a selected wine producer are then served at the bistro in the coming week. The Komel family also organises cycling and hiking trips around the Karst with visits to local wineries for the guests who want to offset their love of food and drink with some physical activity.

Those who want to extend their vacation can stay in two elegant modern rooms and an apartment in the village behind the church. These have been tastefully decorated in a style similar to that of the bistro. The design of both was the work of Komel’s older daughter, Karin, who is also responsible for the organisation of weddings, which are quite numerous at the romantic location of Štanjel Castle.

And when you sit under the trees behind the castle wall with the sun setting behind the Karst Edge and painting the horizon in fiery colours, you actually wish that the evening would never end.