Provolone

What do you do with fresh mozzarella that’s begun to age? Centuries ago in Basilicata, they figured out that binding it up and hanging it to dry turns the stuff into a pretty good, though completely different, cheese: Provolone.

Based on the number of Italian food stores that display big, beautiful globes of it in their windows, Provolone is one of the two or three most popular Italian cheeses among Americans.

It’s a basic cow’s milk cheese (one would never waste buffalo milk on this elementary style), with a rind that is washed in brine during maturation. As it ripens, Provolone acquires a piquancy that is quite pronounced in cheeses aged 18 months or more (at which point, it’s labeled piccante). It’s semihard and somewhat oily.

It’s also interesting to note that different communities and regions throughout the South make their own distinctive shapes, which are name-controlled by law. Caciocavello is looks like a bowling pin, and can only be made in specified provinces. Ragusano, the Sicilian version, comes in rectangles, while over in Abruzzo, they braid it.

Befitting its humble origins—Basilicata and Campania have always been poor regions—Provolone is a simple cheese, not particularly complex in flavor or production process. But its directness is a big part of its appeal.

PAIRINGS: For one thing, Provolone may be the perfect sandwich cheese. It also holds up to any number of equally down-to-earth wines and beers, and is a nice buffer upon a cheese board filled with other, more exhausting styles.