As a cheese connoisseur, I've heard of quite a few of this wonderful creation's varieties. But, I'm clearly still capable of being stumped on occasion. As I was a couple of months ago, yet again at my local Shop Rite grocery. This new-to-me cheese was called mascarpone, and it came in a round tub, that kind of reminded me of a Cool Whip container.
Mascarpone originated in Italy. Specifically, in the northwest region of Lombardy, which shares a border with Switzerland. Even more precisely, in the area between the town of Abbiategrasso and Lodi. The "when" is in either the late 1500's or the early 1600's. Alas, I don't know which person, or persons invented it.
Unlike a lot of cheeses, mascarpone doesn't take long to make. At all. Forget being aged for months, or even years--evidently it can be whipped up in only a day! Its preparation involves adding an acidic substance, like vinegar, or more commonly, lemon juice, to a batch of whole cream, from cow's milk. After a little heating, and straining, and then "aging" for hours, and voila, mascarpone. (I'm sure some makers might take a little longer to make it, but you get the point--it's super quick, by cheese standards.) As you might expect from its youthful nature, mascarpone's texture is very soft. So much so that it's easily spreadable. Its color is usually white. Some consumers compare it to English clotted cream, or to French creme-fraiche. Mascarpone is a favorite part of desserts--most notably, tiramisu and cheesecake. Or as a thickener to risotto. One downside is that since it's made from cream, and not milk, it has a high fat content--twice that of American style cream cheese, for example. I heard three linguistic explanations for its moniker. Some claim it's derived from "mascarpia," from a local Lombardy dialect word for "ricotta." Others say it's from the word "mascarpa," which is another dairy product made from the whey of other cheeses. And still others claim it's from the Spanish phrase "Mas que beuno," which means "more than good." Also, some subtypes of vegetarian/vegans might find it acceptable to eat, since unlike most cheeses mascarpone doesn't require rennet, which is traditionally received from the stomachs of calves, young goats, or lambs.
The maker of the mascarpone I tried was a company called Galbani. Davide Galbani and his son Egidio started the business back in 1882. They started making their flagship product Bel Paese cheese in 1906. The company survived the turmoil of World War I because their soft cheeses were badly needed in hospitals, and for the military. (Since Galbani didn't close during World War II I guess demand was similarly enough then as well.) Other cheeses offered by Galbani include parmesan, mozzerella, romano, asiago, ricotta, snack cheeses, snack dips, and string cheese. On a business level, Galbani was bought up by the French Lactalis company in 2006. Finally, the official company website notes that Galbani was involved in the biggest cannola (singular of cannoli) ever, as determined by the Guinness Book of World Records. Their monstrosity weighed in at 262. 5 pounds (or 119.09 kilos) on November 9, 2014. When I was writing this, I found another claimant to the record, though--supposedly the Ferrara bakery in New York City made a cannola that was 350 pounds (or 158.7 kilos) on September 22, 2014. Maybe this one was determined to be illegal for some reason? Is there such a thing as performance-enhancing drugs for cream desserts?
Galbani mascarpone cheese: This cheese was white, and very soft and spreadable. Almost like whipped cream in texture. Plain it tasted fairly bland, only slightly sweet. Not bad, but so inoffensive as to be kind of boring. I tried it on several things, and with additives. On a bagel it was okay, but not as good as regular American style cream cheese. On a cracker was pretty much the same deal. It was better mixed with Rose's orange marmalade on a Thomas's English muffin, or when I put a little salt on it. In conclusion, it's not savory enough to be that good by itself, but it's better mixed with other ingredients. And to be fair I didn't have it in its most popular manner, as part of a cheese cake, or tiramisu.
No comments:
Post a Comment