It never dawned on us that Gorgonzola is a short 18 stops away on the subway. And when I say "gorgonzola," I mean gorgonzola with a capital "G." The actual town.
We discovered our proximity to Gorgonzola last Sunday after a colleague recommended the Sagra della Gorgonzola - a festival celebrating the world-famous cheese made in this sleepy little town.
Real gorgonzola cheese is as fresh and clear-tasting as a glass of milk. Sweet cream dotted by punches by flavor. It's hardly the pungent and aggressive flavor that we Americans have been trained to expect.
We ate a lot of gorgonzola on Sunday; with spicy sweet mostarda, hunks of bread, salumi, even dark chocolate. We enjoyed these excellent combinations while sitting on the curb with a lady who enjoys chocolate more than most. And now she's enjoyed it with a touch of gorgonzola - in Gorgonzola, of all places.
G é per la gorgonzola.
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