On Sunday night, my 16-year old sister looked at me and said pleadingly, “I’m craving aged provolone.”
I had to laugh because Paddy’s Cheese Shop wasn’t open on a Sunday night. And also because it was my fault that she has cravings for this cheese; I’m the one who introduced her to it. She started eating provolone from the grocery store, which is okay but not as good as the cheeses you can get from Paddy’s or the Italian market. One day I was running errands with her in tow, and stopped at Paddy’s for some pecorino. Paddy’s is the type of place that will let you sample, so I asked for some of the aged provolone and she immediately fell in love with it. My memory is a little fuzzy, but I think she walked out of that store with a hunk of havarti and a hunk of provolone clutched in her hands. She had to restrain herself in the car from nibbling at her stash.
If she lived closer to Paddy’s she’d probably end up there once a week. I’m due to pick up more cheese soon; maybe I’ll be a nice big sister and pick up some provolone for her this weekend.