...Italy (The Sound of a Good Cheese)

There is a sharp intake of breath all around as the Italian gentleman in the white coat moves towards the shelf labeled 'Carlotta'. He lifts the 40kg golden cheese and taps it with his little silver hammer. "Tap tap", he knocks around the side, "Tap tap", he raps it on the top and the bottom. The cheese is placed back on the shelf and the sound of breath being released followed by a spontaneous round of applause from us spectators echoes around the vast hall. For the cheese has passed the test. It's a good 'un which is a relief as it belongs to the owner of the farm on which we are staying.

The Parmigiano Reggiano factory we are visiting is award winning and has been awarded gold status. This means that last year every cheese passed 'the hammer test' (when you consider they produce 12 cheeses a day, that's no mean feat). The white-coated official is listening for hollows in the cheese. Hollows suggest bad quality and less superior taste (but this is good for us because it means we can buy the rejects in Lidl at a reasonable price. Oh the shame!).

So how do you make an award-winning cheese? Firstly, the cows must be fed only hay otherwise the cheese won't bond. Milk taken in the evening sits in long troughs and is mixed with 'morning milk' the next day in a big copper vat where the 'cheese' drops to the bottom. After being 'blessed' (the sign of the cross is made in each vat) the rest of the milk is taken to be used for making ricotta (or to reduce swellings - you immerse the affected limb in a jug of the stuff!). The cheese is then wrapped in muslin and put into moulds. For the next 20 days the cheese sits in a salty bath (mmmmm salty bath). This causes a chemical reaction within the cheese that makes it easier to digest - you could give it to a baby and they could digest it, though you might want to grate it first (the cheese that is). After that the cheese sweats the last of the salt out in a Turkish bath (mmmmm salty, Turkish bath). It then sits in a large hall on a shelf to mature from anywhere between 12 and 52 months.

And here we are, back in the factory gazing at rows upon rows of glorious cheeses. We are taken to taste cheeses of different maturities which contort our faces to degrees a professional gurner* could only dream of. The cheeses are surprisingly sweet and are tasty on their own. The idea of biting into a lump of Lidl's parmesan is unthinkable (for a start it would probably break my teeth). But the Parmeggiano Reggiano is often served as a cheese in itself. With a drizzle of balsamic vinegar over the top. Bellissimo!

 

* if you are unfamiliar with this word it would be far more satisfying for you to google it rather than have me explain it. Trust me.