It’s 100% Wheel Cheese

When I was growing up, U never thought of Parmesan as a cheese. For one thing, it came in a can. Dry and crumbly, it was not useful for making sandwiches. Even when I learned that it did indeed originate in wheels, thence to wedges and could be hand-grated, it still seemed more condiment than cheese.

Then I went to Parma.

I am so lowbrow when it comes to culinary arts that I had never even speculated over the etymology of such a ubiquitous item. I figured Mrs. Parmesan invented it--or something. I was divested of this misapprehension by my spouse, who, for reasons of his own, had previously toured a Parma dairy. So by the time I arrived at this magical city in Italy’s Enza valley, I was aware that the proper lacto-label is Parmigiano-Reggiano, a marital hyphenation of the two regions on either side of the Enza river that form the cradle of curdlization.

The genuine goods come in wheels with “Parmigiano-Reggiano” etched in dots all over the rind; the dairy’s registration number and the cheese’s natal month/year should also be there (in Italian) as well as a brand from the Consorizio del Formaggio Parmigiano-Reggiano, guaranteeing that the regional criteria (which are legion) have been met.

It all seemed a bit fraught until, upon my first luncheon in Parma, I was presented with a plate of Parmigiano. That’s it. Just cheese on a plate. A white plate. It was in slices, well, more like shards, unlike any Parmesan I had ever encountered. Then I tasted it and almost wept. It was moist and grainy, a shivery, salty rich sizzle that filled my head and made my hair twitch.

I could not stop eating it. On pizza, on pasta, wrapped up in prosciutto and asparagus, off the sidewalk, wherever I could find it. And when we reluctantly pulled ourselves away from the city with its lovely cathedral and winding streets we dragged several pounds of cheese with us. At home, we gave a number of chunks away in mad fits of generosity, which I regretted the moment our cache disappeared (we are still saving the rind in wild hopes that the dairy fairy will somehow spin it into more cheese).

It’s not that you can’t get Parmigiano-Reggiano in the States, you can--at supermarkets such as Trader Joe’s or gourmet shops such as the Cheese Store of Beverly Hills or through mail-order services such as Williams-Sonoma. It just doesn’t seem to taste the same. At Campanile and La Brea Bakery (which sells the cheese by weight), owner Nancy Silverton also had a fairly recent Parmesan epiphany. “I used to think Parmesan was Parmesan. Then I found out that certain producers have better cheese, and since every wheel has the number of the dairy on it, you can try to track down the ones you want.” Silverton switched her cheese connection to Rogers International, an import service in Maine, because “they know the best producers.”

If you are ever fortunate enough to receive cheese from Parma or its environs, here are a few tips: Go for smaller, separately sealed pieces--once a cheese is opened, it starts to dry out. After opening, wrap cheese in parchment paper, then plastic or foil and refrigerate. If it starts to dry, wrap it in a damp towel for a day.

And if you’re going to Italy, forget the Venetian glass, the Florentine scarves, even the rosaries from the Vatican. Save every last lira and get the cheese.

(BEGIN TEXT OF INFOBOX / INFOGRAPHIC)

ASPARAGUS AND PARMIGIANO-REGGIANO WRAPPED IN PROSCIUTTO

From “Parmigiano!” by Pamela Sheldon Johns (Ten Speed Press)

(Serves 6)

*

1/2 pound asparagus (about 18 spears)

18 2-inch slivers of Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese

6 paper-thin slices prosciutto di Parma, chilled

*

Rinse asparagus and cut off root end. Trim base lightly with vegetable peeler. To blanch, drop in boiling salted water for 3 to 5 minutes, depending on thickness of asparagus, until crisp-tender. Drain and immediately immerse in ice water to stop cooking. When cool, drain and pat dry.

With very sharp knife, cut chilled prosciutto into inch-wide strips.

Bundle together sliver of Parmigiano-Reggiano and spear of asparagus and bind them with strip of prosciutto. Repeat with remaining Parmigiano-Reggiano and asparagus. Arrange on tray for passing.

*

Food stylist: Norman Stewart. Cheese from the Cheese Store of Beverly Hills