The Lost Cheese Of Sicily

At this point in my career, I have been peddling cheese at DiBruno Brothers for over a decade. After the obligatory hazing period and the numerous customers who take sadistic pride in "breaking the stones" of new employees, I have developed a substantially thick skin. There was a time that I would have been offended when a wise-cracker slandered "So what's it like to cut the cheese for a living?" Now that just rolls off my back.

That being said, there is still one phrase that cuts to the core every time it's uttered: "That's not sharp enough." What stings about this comment is the truth behind it. In a shop that carries over 300 varieties
of cheese from Italy alone, how can it be that we, at times, do not have a blisteringly sharp provolone?

Of course, we have little control over the matter. Every wheel is different, and when one wheel is perfectly sharp, we sell it so quickly that we are forced to cut the next one prematurely. We increase our odds by carrying 5 varieties of provolone: three imported and two domestic. And the vast majority of the time, at least one of them aligns perfectly with the customer's desires. That being said, there are times when all five are on the milder side, and the passionate cheesemonger becomes racked with guilt.

Ever try talking a South Philly Italian into trying a sharp British cheddar instead of the sharp provolone we are lacking? Good luck. All of the valid substitutes for provolone are either too salty, too dry or not Italian. Until now.

Several years ago, a well-respected Sicilian cheese maker named Salvatore Passalaqua moved into his new home in the hills outside Palermo. By some miracle, he found in his new closet a recipe for a cheese that had not been made for over one hundred years. He set out to recreate this cheese using traditional methods and equipment. The resulting cheese was dubbed "Tuma Persa," or "Lost Cheese," and not only can it substitute for provolone, but could very well replace it.

Provolone producers have nothing to fear. Salvatore produces each wheel by hand, outputting only 50 wheels a week. We at DiBruno's are fortunate enough to acquire two wheels every Thursday, but even still we find ourselves out of it after the weekend. The appeals are numerous: it is strong and superlatively sharp without the expected high salt content typical of sharp provolone. And unlike provolone, which has a tendency to be sharp and biting but somewhat fleeting and short-lived, Tuma Persa is rich and earthy, using high-quality and immensely flavorful raw milk. Take one bite, and you will still be tasting it five minutes later. The finish is speckled with hints of green and black peppercorn. Connecting the first bite to the finish is an underlying current of fruit, almost as if it were washed with wine.

Its likeness to provolone implies that in can be used in all the same contexts. Soppressatta, Prosciutto and cured sausages all pair beautifully with it. Sicilian and Cerignola olives should be on the plate, along with roasted peppers and hearty Sicilian olive oil. As far as wine goes, a rustic cheese deserves a rustic wine: Brunello di Montalcino, Barolo or, for something a bit more exotic, Primitivo.

Hunter Fike
Cheese Specialist
DiBruno Brothers House of Cheese

Rocchetta Alta Langha

In the world of cheese, international bragging rights are almost always nothing more than conjecture. The French claim to produce the best washed-rind (smelly) cheeses, but Taleggio, Vacherin Mont d’Or and La Serena are legitimate points of contention by the Italians, Swiss and Spanish. The British will argue that the Cheddars of Somerset have no equal, but Americans are correct in their claim that this is strictly a matter of taste. And we, the United States of America, have what is almost certainly the best collection of blues in the world. But is our top blue better than Cabrales, Roquefort, Stilton or Gorgonzola? Who can say for sure?

Amongst all of these outlandish claims, one stands out as an absolute fact: the Italians are superior in the art of blending milk. The irony of this statement cannot be lost: Italian cheese makers began to blend milks strictly out of necessity. In the mountainous terrain of the Piedmont, if a cheese maker was short on cow milk, he would have no choice but to add sheep or goat milk to meet his quota. Making the most of a bleak situation, the Piedmontese cheese makers experimented with ratios, and soon developed outstanding, fresh robiolas.

One of Italy’s premier producers, Caseificio dell’Alta Langha, has proven that the simplest solution is usually the best. Their award-winning robiola, Rocchetta Alta Langha, is equal parts cow, goat and sheep milk, and clearly accents the best that each milk has to offer. Rocchetta offers the richness and creaminess of cow milk, that light, acidic tang of goat milk, and the slight salt finish of the finest Italian sheep milk. These qualities alone would result in a superbly complex flavor, but the Caseificio takes it one step further. After the milks are blended in a vat, they are allowed to “ripen” overnight at room temperature. Un-chilled, flavorful (and healthy) bacteria multiply quickly, so that pasteurization does not interfere with the quality of the milk.

The effect Rocchetta has on your taste buds is matched only by the effect it has on your eyes. At two weeks of age, it has developed a beautiful bloomy rind that will leave any caseophile salivating in anticipation of the first bite. It does not disappoint. Texturally, it is billowy-soft and breathtakingly smooth. In compliance with the Piedmontese definition of “good cheese,” Rocchetta is earthy, with notes of mushroom and a hint of sourness akin to crème fraîche. It is one of the most frequently requested cheeses at DiBruno Brothers.

Because of its complex flavor, Rocchetta pairs well with many foods and drinks. DiBruno Brothers sells a Fig and Balsamic Jam that pair with Rocchetta as well as jelly does to peanut butter, and any quality honey drizzled atop Rocchetta will undoubtedly please. A vast variety of wines work as well: complex reds like Tempranillo or Pinot Noir, crisp whites or, if your serving it after dinner, a dry Prosecco. Beyond that, little is needed other than a loaf of bread and a loved one.

This article was written by Hunter Fike, a Cheese Specialist at DiBruno Brother's House of Cheese. DiBruno Brother’s House of Cheese have been culinary pioneers in Philadelphia since 1939 and have locations in the Italian Market, Rittenhouse Square and online at www.dibruno.com.