Some cheeses shout for attention and some cheeses whisper. This one’s the quiet type; it doesn’t expect you to ponder it. I bathe it in extra virgin olive oil, which it sucks up like a sponge. It plays well with olives, salumi, breadsticks and ciabatta and isn’t finicky about red wine versus white. If you’re having a party, you’ll appreciate how well it holds up on an antipasto platter. If it’s a party of two, over cocktails, you’ll be surprised by how much you can eat.

Primosale—or primo sale, if you prefer—is just a few steps beyond cheese curds. It’s aged pecorino before the aging. In some regions, it’s made with mixed milk, but the Sicilian version I know is a sheep cheese. Some producers add red pepper flakes or black peppercorns to give this subtle cheese more personality. My olive oil treatment also gives it some oomph.

But no doubt about it, it’s simple cheese—the curds lightly cooked to firm them and then lightly pressed in their forms before brining or dry salting. Wheels can be anywhere from two pounds to six pounds and may leave the creamery after a few days or a few weeks, before they develop a rind.

An importer once described primosale to me as “extremely young pecorino that doesn’t have a lot of character,” but I think that’s unkind. I much prefer, and agree with, the description offered on an American merchant’s website, which portrays it as “the grand Sicilian table cheese” (well, maybe a bit of an oversell) and says it should be “celebrated for its youthful energy and pure, milky sweetness.”

The aroma isn’t profound but it’s pleasing, faintly sheepy, milky and buttery. I don’t want to bite into whole peppercorns so I pull them out, but their flowery fragrance lingers. The texture is semifirm and a little chewy, more moist than dry, and salting is just right.

I’m starting to think primosale is the popcorn of cheese—something you can eat mindlessly, enjoying that buttery saltiness and reaching for more until, wow, there’s nothing left. The cheese also melts well so you can use it on pizza, in grilled panini or in baked dishes like eggplant parmigiana. On its home ground, it’s typically sliced and served with olive oil and fresh mint.

I purchased the peppercorn-studded primosale pictured above at V. Sattui in St. Helena. You may struggle to find it in a retail shop. Mongers likely don’t order it because it’s not well known, slow to sell and short lived. I found several reputable online sources: igourmet, Ditalia and Gusto Grocery. Get a friend to split the wheel and the shipping with you and it’s more than affordable.