Cheese Penpals

Word came this weekend that Amy Strauss received her cheese gift box, part of my stink-a-versary give-away. Amy requested some Prima Donna, one of my faves. I hope she is enjoying every toffee-like bite on this rainy day here in Philadelphia. Me? I'm at work, airing out my office.

Yep, my wine fridge (which serves as a cheese cave) has become a little whiffy over the course of the semester. In fact, this morning the custodian came by to ask me if I had noticed my "mold problem." I was a little embarrassed to tell her that it was from storing cheese in my office. Looks like I'll be investing in some air freshener.

Cheese & Love

Later this month, I'll be hosting a tasting at my favorite local cheese store, Quince, on Philadelphia's Girard Ave. But today, I have to write about my love affair with Datillo's, an Italian deli in the Northeast that I visited last weekend. Picture an Old World hole in the wall with cheeses hanging from the ceiling, narrow aisles stocked with olives and tins of fish, and stooped old men with lots of ear hair waiting in line to buy bread.

It's not easy to find Datillo's. Forget searching on the web -- there's no web site. You need a good map of North Philly's erogenous zones or a good-natured local to show you around. Our friend Joe, an Olney native who later moved to Rhawnhurst and now lives in Fishtown, ferried us up into the northern wilds for this adventure, and it was well worth the drive past miles of stone facades, each block as homogenous as the one before it.

Datillo's, 8000 Horrocks Street, is located in Rhawnhurst. Think far Northeast. The store is flanked on one side by a very appetizing fish shop (which is saying a lot) and on the other side by a patio with access to Datillo's sandwich window. In the summer, I imagine the neighborhood must dump out here to nurse water ice and gobble hoagies. The flagstone looks well worn by generations of flip-flops.

Even if you don't plan to sit, Datillo's is worth a trip to load up on crusty bread, homemade sopressatta, house-cured olives, and local sweets. And you'll find local and imported cheese here that's a good deal less expensive than other places, especially for Prima Donna, my favorite Gouda-esque love child. You can also find planks of salt-crusted cod, a specialty that our friend Joe likes to use for a Portuguese stew. He soaks the cod in water for a couple days, then boils it up with tomatoes, peppers, and spices.

I walked out of Datillo's with a week's worth of groceries for under $40, including two kinds of cheese, two pints of olives, a big link of sopressatta, a bag of milk biscotti, a snack sack of dried chick peas and fava beans, and a loaf of bread the size of our lap dog. It was perfect for a housebound picnic, and it got me through yesterday's snow.

We've got great cheese shops here in downtown Philly, but I can't help loving Datillo's. It's the real deal, ear hair and all.

Prima Donna

Our friend, Joe, has turned me onto a summer-lover of a cheese – Prima Donna. Maybe it’s the name I love -- it’s so pageanty. But no, the name is just the satin banner, and it happens to be perfect because Prima Donna is the Miss Universe of Gouda-style cheeses.

Now, supposedly, this is not a real Gouda, according to a recent blurb in Culture, a new cheese magazine which I’ll post about shortly. Prima Donna doesn’t have quite enough fat content to live up to Gouda-hood (48% is required). Not a sad day, though. Prima Donna is my new salt caramel. Its sweet-salty, nutty-rich taste is great all by itself or with a pat of quince paste. But why gild the lily? I’ve been eating it straight out of the crisper, cut into strips, as if it’s celery.

Shocking? Blame it on those flavor crystals, yes, yes, those little diamonds of what I now know to be lactic acid, something that only appears in an aged cheese. They dazzle me. They add a little crispy accent I die for. Who can explain?

On a recent summer night, we paired Prima Donna with some Ricotta Salata, another one of Joe’s favorites. These two cheeses were great together – mild, summery, salty. I have always been a ricotta hound, but I’d never had this firm version of the soft Italian cheese I’m used to getting from my local cheese counter (love it with lemon zest and fresh basil, as a spread). I’m curious to try Ricotta Salata again, on its own, when the Prima Donna isn’t around to steal the stage.

WHEEL OF FORTUNE: If you've never tried the Goat Gouda that Trader Joe's sells, you're missing out. It's a mild, creamy cheese -- not nearly as fabulous as Prima Donna -- but absolutely decent and rather interesting. I'm dreaming of a gouda tasting...
1. Prima Donna
2. Goat Gouda
3. and a really nice baby gouda