I've been proven wrong again. By myself.
For some reason, I've always — for years — overlooked Grana Padano. I regarded it as a pedestrian, somewhat boring cheese. And maybe it's because I likened it to a lesser version of Parmigiano Reggiano, which is a cheese that I've always felt gets too much attention, anyway.
I've been just about as wrong as a cheesemonger can be.
I have been bashed for saying it before: I just don't get what the big hooplah is about Parmigiano Reggiano. For cooking, it's great, and it serves a salty, cheesy purpose, but plain, I find it unsatisfying, and more often than not, bitter at the finish. And it's expensive, too. Since there are certainly incredibly worthy alternatives out there, I typically forgo it if I'm the one buying.
But I was sent a sample of Grana Padano the other week. And so I tasted it. And then I ate it. (There's a difference.) So wrong was I! I hate that, I really do.
The stats: Grana Padano is one of the oldest cheeses in the world, and for nearly 1,000 years, it's been made in the same manner. The first versions were made by Cistercian monks, in Italy's Valle Padana, from the excess milk from their herds. It's still made throughout the Po Valley, which stretches from Piedmont to the Veneto, and slightly north and slightly south, into Trentino and Emilia-Romagna. Since 1955, it's been a name-protected (PDO) cheese, which means that everything involving the cheese's production — from the cows' diet, to how often the cows are milked (twice maximum per day), to the aging methods and duration (at least 9 months and upwards of 20 months), and the ultimate flavor profile — is regulated and ensured by a consortium dedicated solely to upholding the quality of the cheese.
And you taste it, this quality, you really do. Grana Padano is sweet, in a fruity kind of way, nearly tropical. But it's balanced by a great, savory toastiness, like a lightly roasted nut. And best of all, it's not dry or unpleasantly crumbly, which I always find can turn me off to this style of cheese. It's full of those crystalline crunchy bits, too. Texturally, I've got no complaints.
And as a table or snacking cheese, Grana Padano has others beat. In fact, each bite only reinforced how wrong I'd been that it's a cheese meant for cooking and cooking only. However, if you are interested in recipes using Grana Padano, the Consortium for Grana Padano offers plenty, from starters to dessert.
If given the choice, I'll now pick Grana Padano over parm, as most Italians do. (Supposedly it's the most-consumed cheese in all of Italy.) Sadly, though, I don't see Grana Padano as much as I see its more celebrated relative. I do see it in Little Italy's famous food stores in New York, like Di Palo and Alleva Dairy, for around $13.99/lb, or a dollar more per pound if you choose a more aged variety. It's often, too, at larger grocery stores and fine cheese shops. Since it costs on average $5 less per pound than Parmigiano Reggiano, which runs around $18.99/lb, there's even more reason to seek it out. Spend what you're saving on buying more Grana Padano. To eat.
Nora Singley is an avid lover of cheese, and used to be a cheesemonger and the Director of Education at Murray's Cheese Shop in New York City, where she continues to teach cheese classes for the public. She is currently a TV Chef on The Martha Stewart Show.
Related: How To Taste Cheese: The Cheesemonger
Apartment Therapy Media makes every effort to test and review products fairly and transparently. The views expressed in this review are the personal views of the reviewer and this particular product review was not sponsored or paid for in any way by the manufacturer or an agent working on their behalf. However, the manufacturer did give us the product for testing and review purposes.
(Image: Grana Padano Consortium, used with permission.)
Martha Concrete Lam...

I was introduced to grana padano at my local Costco, where it is always in plentiful supply. Initially bought it because it is significantly less expensive than parmigiano reggiano. I can't say I prefer it to parmigiano; it's flavor is definitely different, but I enjoy it equally, and I find the flavor profiles similar enough as to be interchangeable in recipes.
Perhaps when my kids are older and I'm cooking for two again, I'll go back to parmigiano, but for now, it's grana padano in my household, and I don't feel I'm sacrificing a thing.
I don't think grana padano and parm are interchangeable. Their flavors are very different. Both delish - but not swappable.
And while we're on the subject - let's hear it for Pecorino Toscano!
I'm on @Pamela Goldsteen's side. I also bought the large wedge of grana padano at Costco, buying it for the same reason, too--less expensive than parmigiano. But perhaps your sample was particularly sumptuous; my grana padano, though versatile and delicious, I would not eat as a snacking cheese. It's incredibly salty and falls apart before you can get it to your mouth. I'd be interested in hearing what brand you tasted.
Younger Grana Padano is maybe comparable or even preferable to Parmigiano because it costs less and both give some spikes in mouth, which you could enjoy depending on your taste. But I definitely prefer a old piece of Parmigiano, like a 30 months one over an old Grana. Parmigiano smooths its flavour over the years and become perfect between the second and third year. Grana is ok after one year but become grit, hard and sometimes too spicy when old. I don't know if it's sold outside Italy, but we have a nice and cheap alternative to both Grana and Parmigiano which is Bella Lodi, produced near Milan.
@Transote, don't know how it works on foreign markets, but there is only one brand for each one of them and the brand is stamped outside the rind; if it is PDO you shouldn't find any major difference between a re-seller and another if they are both the same age.
The perfect place for Gran Padano: caesar salad. Lots of it.
@mbagattini: Thanks for the info. I'll check the labels next time.
Trader Joe's nearly always has shaved GP in a tub, or wedges. They keep it near the parmesan, sometimes by the cold cuts, not always with the rest of the fancy cheese.