CHARLESTON, W.Va. -- I (Tara) accidentally discovered the ultimate pizza cheese. It's not mozzarella, although that's a good one. It's called Fontinella, and it costs $3.99 for 8 ounces.
And until I'd just about hit deadline on this column, I thought that was all I was going to be able to tell you about Fontinella.
It all started about four months ago, when I decided to take my yearly stab at pizza crust. If you remember the pizza crust column of April 6 - and I'm sure you do - I finally managed to make a good pizza crust after about 20 years of trying.
Fontinella cheese is a shortcut way to add extra flavor to homemade pizza.
The point is, I didn't have any mozzarella cheese that day. I fished some other white cheese out of the fridge - some stuff Rob had unearthed in the international cooler at the grocery store, where you find the jarred sauerkraut and the refrigerated crumpets. Fontinella. Hmm.
That was, oh, probably the best pizza in the world.
OK, you might disagree. Rob does - he still prefers the mozz - but here's my argument: Whereas mozzarella is really stringy and pretty bland (unless it gets brown and crusty on top, in which case it's awesome), Fontinella is sharp and tangy. It's got a salty bite, like Parmesan or Romano, but it melts. And when it does, it gets chewy and crusty brown, although not stringy. It adds concentrated flavor that mozzarella just can't.
Mysteriously, though, when I tried to find out what Fontinella is - I couldn't. Usually, I can Google an ingredient and come up with about 10,000 recipes, food research papers and dozens of newspaper columns by other expert food journalists who have obviously Googled up the same information I just did and, sometimes, regurgitated it verbatim.
This time? Nada. Cleverly, I called the phone number on the back of the cheese.
"Bonjour," a cheery woman answered. The ensuing conversation was brief and somewhat one-sided, but I was able to deduce that I had, in fact, called a number where people speak French.
Which was odd, because I had assumed Fontinella - one of the most Italian-tasting and certainly Italian-sounding cheeses I'd ever had - would be some sort of traditional Italian obscure import artisan-type thing that just hit this country. Nope. It's made in Wisconsin, home of the Cheese Head, by a $5 billion Canadian corporation.
A few days later (thanks to my friendly French-Canadian woman), I got a call from a guy named Steve Josen in Illinois. He's vice president of marketing for Saputo Cheese USA, which bought out Stella, the brand name on my cheese and the only company that makes Fontinella. Steve also tells me that the name Fontinella is trademarked, it has nothing to do with fontina (an Italian cheese that's good when it's from Italy and mediocre at best when it's not, but that's another column) and Fontinella has been around for 70 years.
Which doesn't explain why cookbooks, cooking magazines, cooking shows, food writers and everybody else seems to be completely ignoring this splendid cheese.
Well, almost everybody else. I did find it on a lot of online menus - at pizzerias. These guys know what's good.
Grilled Pizza with Pesto, Fontinella and Sun-Dried Tomatoes
Makes 8 individual pizzas
Pizza Dough:
1 package rapid-rise yeast
2 1/4 teaspoons kosher salt
1 pinch sugar
1 tablespoon extra-virgin olive oil, plus more for bowl
1 cup warm water
3 cups bread flour
CHARLESTON, W.Va. -- I (Tara) accidentally discovered the ultimate pizza cheese. It's not mozzarella, although that's a good one. It's called Fontinella, and it costs $3.99 for 8 ounces.
And until I'd just about hit deadline on this column, I thought that was all I was going to be able to tell you about Fontinella.
It all started about four months ago, when I decided to take my yearly stab at pizza crust. If you remember the pizza crust column of April 6 - and I'm sure you do - I finally managed to make a good pizza crust after about 20 years of trying.
The point is, I didn't have any mozzarella cheese that day. I fished some other white cheese out of the fridge - some stuff Rob had unearthed in the international cooler at the grocery store, where you find the jarred sauerkraut and the refrigerated crumpets. Fontinella. Hmm.
That was, oh, probably the best pizza in the world.
OK, you might disagree. Rob does - he still prefers the mozz - but here's my argument: Whereas mozzarella is really stringy and pretty bland (unless it gets brown and crusty on top, in which case it's awesome), Fontinella is sharp and tangy. It's got a salty bite, like Parmesan or Romano, but it melts. And when it does, it gets chewy and crusty brown, although not stringy. It adds concentrated flavor that mozzarella just can't.
Mysteriously, though, when I tried to find out what Fontinella is - I couldn't. Usually, I can Google an ingredient and come up with about 10,000 recipes, food research papers and dozens of newspaper columns by other expert food journalists who have obviously Googled up the same information I just did and, sometimes, regurgitated it verbatim.
This time? Nada. Cleverly, I called the phone number on the back of the cheese.
"Bonjour," a cheery woman answered. The ensuing conversation was brief and somewhat one-sided, but I was able to deduce that I had, in fact, called a number where people speak French.
Which was odd, because I had assumed Fontinella - one of the most Italian-tasting and certainly Italian-sounding cheeses I'd ever had - would be some sort of traditional Italian obscure import artisan-type thing that just hit this country. Nope. It's made in Wisconsin, home of the Cheese Head, by a $5 billion Canadian corporation.
A few days later (thanks to my friendly French-Canadian woman), I got a call from a guy named Steve Josen in Illinois. He's vice president of marketing for Saputo Cheese USA, which bought out Stella, the brand name on my cheese and the only company that makes Fontinella. Steve also tells me that the name Fontinella is trademarked, it has nothing to do with fontina (an Italian cheese that's good when it's from Italy and mediocre at best when it's not, but that's another column) and Fontinella has been around for 70 years.
Which doesn't explain why cookbooks, cooking magazines, cooking shows, food writers and everybody else seems to be completely ignoring this splendid cheese.
Well, almost everybody else. I did find it on a lot of online menus - at pizzerias. These guys know what's good.
Grilled Pizza with Pesto, Fontinella and Sun-Dried Tomatoes
Makes 8 individual pizzas
Pizza Dough:
1 package rapid-rise yeast
2 1/4 teaspoons kosher salt
1 pinch sugar
1 tablespoon extra-virgin olive oil, plus more for bowl
1 cup warm water
3 cups bread flour
STIR yeast, salt, sugar and 1 tablespoon olive oil into the warm water. Gradually stir in enough flour to form a stiff dough.
KNEAD dough about 5 minutes or until it springs back when you dent it with your finger. Place dough in a bowl and coat it with about a teaspoon of olive oil. Press a piece of plastic wrap directly onto the dough.
REFRIGERATE at least 8 hours OR let rise in a warm place until doubled in bulk.
PUNCH down dough and let it rise again in a warm place for about an hour. You can use this dough now, or it will keep refrigerated (wrapped in plastic wrap) for a few days, or you can freeze it.
Pizza:
1 recipe Pizza Dough (at room temperature)
1 cup pesto
1 6.5-ounce jar sun-dried tomatoes in olive oil, drained and chopped
8 ounces grated Fontinella cheese
1/2 cup grated Parmigiano-Reggiano or Pecorino Romano cheese
Freshly ground black pepper
PREHEAT gas grill: Turn one burner to high and the rest of the burners to low.
DIVIDE dough into 8 pieces. Press each piece into roughly an 8-inch circle. Set dough rounds on a baking sheet. Take them out to the grill, along with all of your toppings.
LAY one dough round on the hot part of the grill, stretching it gently to keep it round and thin. When you get good grill marks on the first side (this will probably take less than a minute - keep an eye on it), flip the crust to the other side and lay it on the low-heat side.
SPREAD 2 tablespoons of pesto on the crust, followed by about an eighth each of the tomatoes, Fontinella and lastly the Parm or Romano. Add a few grinds of fresh black pepper.
KEEP finished pizzas on the low-heat section as you continue with remaining pizzas. After each finished pizza gets good grill marks on the second side and the toppings have melted, move them to the baking sheet or a plate. Serve immediately.
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