The food in Camino is unapologetically, unpretentiously Spanish. I ordered the jamon Iberico, and that's what I got. A plate of shaved, cured meat, beetroot red but for quivering crests of translucent fat. No garnish. No nonsense. It was nutty, sweet and salty and tasted faintly of blood. Delicious. Spinach and mushroom soup was rich and earthy with a kick of good sherry.