Ham is pork that has been preserved through salting, smoking, or wet curing. It was traditionally made only from the hind leg of swine, and referred to that specific cut of pork. Ham is made around the world, including a number of highly coveted regional specialties, such as Westphalian ham and Jamón serrano. Technically a processed meat, "ham" may refer to a product which has been through mechanical re-forming.
The precise nature of meat termed "ham" is controlled in a number of areas, often by statute, including the United States and European Union. In addition, numerous ham products have specific geographical naming protection, such as Prosciutto di Parma and Prosciutto Toscano PDO in Europe, and Smithfield ham in the US.
The preserving of pork leg as ham has a long history, with Cato the Elder writing about the "salting of hams" in his De Agri Cultura tome around 160 BC.
There are claims that the Chinese were the first people to mention the production of cured ham, whilst Larousse Gastronomique claims an origin from Gaul, but it was certainly well established by the Roman period, including an import trade from Gaul mentioned by Marcus Terentius Varro in his writings.
Mohamed Bourokba, aka Hamé (born 1975, Perpignan, France) is a French filmmaker and rapper.
Bourokba was the fifth in a family of six children, from two different mothers. The family settled in France during the 1950s. His Algerian father, who could neither read nor write, spent his life working as a farm labourer. After the death of his wife in the early 1970s, he remarried quickly for the sake of his three daughters. His new wife, Hamé's mother, was twenty years younger than he was. She also came from Algeria. She became a housekeeper and learned to read and write.
Wanting to surround himself with images, Hamé studied cinema at the Sorbonne. Rap played a big part in his life; he collaborated with the group La Rumeur, making several videos for the group. After obtaining his master's degree in film and literature, Hamé was awarded a scholarship. He spent a year at New York University's Tisch School of the Arts.
After creating five short films, Hamé returned to France. He wanted to write and direct films dealing with those subjects that were of greatest importance to him. "Je ne suis pas le gardien de mon frère" ("I am not my brother's keeper"), his first short film, received the support of CNC and French TV channel Arte, and addresses the subject of post-colonial immigration. Canal Plus signed him to write a hip hop musical about integrity and temptation. He has also written a feature film, Faux, the story of an impostor, which he hoped to shoot in 2012. Hamé was also working on writing a novel to be published by Les Editions du Seuil.
HAM is an Icelandic rock band which was active in the years 1988 to 1994. They are often listed as a heavy metal band but have never categorized themselves as such. They did not attain significant popularity while active, but have gradually come to be acknowledged as an important part of Icelandic rock history. Today they command a cult following among many Icelandic rock enthusiasts.
HAM's first album was Hold, a controversial record which received no radio airtime. The band's attempt to get into the big league began when they warmed up for The Sugarcubes in five concerts in 1988. The following year they released the album Buffalo Virgin with One Little Indian records and held several concerts in New York. The album Pleasing the Pirahna was recorded in 1990 but was never released—supposedly another album by the name Pimpmobile was also recorded but remains unreleased.
In 1991-1992, the band participated in the making of the film Sódóma Reykjavík, with singer and guitarist Sigurjón Kjartansson writing most of the soundtrack. HAM's participation in the making of this cult Icelandic classic played a significant part in the band's later notoriety.
Roma Racconta
Rit:
Qui si realizzano i sogni delle persone
Qui ad ogni angolo del centro c’è un barbone
Qui gente stordita non capisce come
Qui si realizzino i sogni delle persone
Qui dove su ogni muro c’è un colore
Qui Roma racconta le sue storie senza amore
Qui gente stordita non capisce come
Qui si realizzino i sogni delle persone
Vorrebbero una storia/io preferisco i suoi ritratti come
Dorian/Roma e la sua memoria/aperta a un pubblico che sbanda
ad ogni vicolo/una coppia cerca il brivido dell'intimo sulla
terrazza del Granicolo/poi 1000 altre dietro/un santinaro
vende la sua fede sotto gli occhi di San Pietro/gli è
stato detto insisti/e sono 50 anni che ha i Cristi per
turisti/tirate di fumo amaro verso il centro/porte sbarrate
e un vecchio in cerca d'ombra a San Lorenzo/racconta che
piovevano le bombe/oggi cazzo di locali e la notte non si
dorme/sopra il futuro è cenere/è più sicura una notte
a Tor Bella Monaca che un bagno dentro al Tevere/tu
pensaci/la tua città da eterna si alterna con lo squallore
a Termini/io trovo vecchie foto appese ai muri/e il tempo lo
scandisce Villa Ada e i suoi tamburi/riti tribali 2 passi
dai Parioli/colori di borgata fino a Campo de Fiori..
rit.x1
Questo è il concerto che mi porto dentro/metropolitana per
andare fino in centro/la banchina e vento caldo/i binari
porteranno/i corpi più avanti, i sogni un po' più in
alto/entro nella vita del vagone con un passo/e so che/ se
mi guarderanno/non vedranno né l'uomo né il rapper né
altro/volume in cuffie alto/ la musica nel cielo che troppi
non sentiranno/non quel bambino/ insieme a
quell'anziano/mano nella mano/ l'uno la speranza, l'altro il
suo destino/Roma è come un vino/ libera la lingua e spinge
l'anima al sorriso/ dove andiamo?/ Poco conta/siamo parte di
una storia e Roma ci racconta/di volta in volta/ è Porta
Portese o Trastevere/o Spinaceto a credere/ di essere sulla
ribalta/ma la città si muove come magma/ e casa non
sitrova/e ogni km è un'ora sulla Tiburtina/ma delle molte
strade di una vita/tutte quelle che percorro mi portano...
ri.x1
l'estate sempre calda e le notti non mi passano/Testaccio
sembra Barcellona e gli jambe del Circo Massimo
riecheggiano e confondo/il rombo delle corse clandestine
sulla Colombo/dritto sparato fino ad Ostia
il lungomare è il palco x ragazzine in mostra/c'hanno la
gioventù più le pretese/d'amori nati sulla spiaggia e
finiti a Villa Borghese/poi si torna sempre qui
..dove?/Roma mi racconta le sue storie.
L'aria è il narratore/ il cuore spettatore/il corpo vuole
andarsene, ma andarsene poi dove?/Rimaniamo qui/ ogni giorno
al lavoro per sopravvivere/nel tempo che rimane/ cibo, sonno
e scrivere/la città che mi costringe sempre in
macchina/è la stessa che la sera nei locali canta in
metrica/e rianima/ quasi sette milioni di vite/ in
pratica/ognuno un corridore/dietro un sogno che Roma
promette e non mantiene/aspettando di colpirti, perché
gioca in contropiede.