The vital role ‘Protected Designation of Origin’ plays in preserving culture, quality, and community
The lack of fanfare that accompanied our crossing the border from England into France truly shocked me. Despite straining my 8-year-old ears I couldn’t catch a whisper of La Marseillaise and there was not a single beret in sight. Only a few French flags hung lazily in the still, salty air. If it were not for the narrow strip of sea we had just crossed I would have thought us still in Dover. Once freed from our concrete paddock, we sped along the motorway, the novelty of driving on the right swiftly allaying my fears of a nautical mishap. However, as we progressed into the countryside I quickly became disheartened again. ‘It looks just like England!’ I complained loudly to my parents from the back seat, crestfallen that the very grass wasn’t painted red, white, and blue. The land serenely ignored my complaints and remained, in my mind, stubbornly ‘un-french’ as the hours rolled by.
It was only at lunchtime, on the decking of a sun-soaked restaurant, that I finally discovered the France I had been searching all morning for. To my surprise however, it was not found in the surrounding landscape, but in the steaming bowl of Moules Marinière that was gently placed before me. As I plucked the first mollusc from its opulent shell and placed it in my mouth all the culture I had yet to experience engulfed my senses. The oceanic flavour of the mussels whisking part of me to the windswept beaches of Normandy, whilst the sharp fragrance wafting from the velvety sauce produced images of idyllic, green vineyards. I imagined the fishermen, farmers, and chefs whose traditions had shaped the bowl in front of me into a celebration of all things gallic. I learnt a bit more about the country with every joyful bite.
That was my first time experiencing a proud culture through high quality gastronomy, and it was not to be my last. While out on holidays I continuously sought out the delicacy of the local area. In Northern Spain it was artichokes grown in quiet huertos, in Cumbria it was lamb raised on the exposed fellside, and in Morocco peppermint tea that left the mouth abuzz. However, the bank account of a student only stretches so far, and soon both my studies and my finances demanded that a compromise be found. Fortunately, some outstanding delicacies, that have garnered international acclaim, were readily available for purchase in my local supermarket. Consequently, I shelved my passport and instead journeyed to the supermarket with images of salty Parma Ham, decedent Champagne, and nutty, crystalline Parmesan dancing through my mind. All products which have brought fame to their place of origin due to the history they represent, the complex flavours they give so liberally, and the culinary options they provide. Afterall what would many of our favourite Italian recipes be without the fruity, punchy, hard-aged magnificence of Parmigiano Reggiano? Unfortunately, what was meant to be a stress-free shopping spree, soon became anything but as I muddled my way through aisles laden with low quality reproductions. Clever marketing making it almost impossible for me to discern between authentic and imitation; between tasteful and tasteless.
Alas, purchasing exploitive impersonations of renowned products can not only lead to disappointed taste buds, but also to far reaching consequences such as the degradation of traditional farmland, loss of rural job opportunities and a destruction of age-old cultures. To protect the products, producers, and areas which create the exceptional products we all know and love, the European Union launched a ‘Geographical Indications’ campaign to address the issue of producers who misled consumers by marketing non-genuine products. The legislation - which came into effect in 1992 - created three distinct schemes which are enforced within the EU and are being gradually expanded internationally via bilateral agreements.
The most rigorous of the three schemes, in English is titled Protected Designation of Origin, otherwise known as PDO. To receive PDO status, the entire product must be traditionally and entirely manufactured (prepared, processed and produced) within a specified region, thus acquiring properties that are truly unique to that geographical area. This gold standard is often advertised on products via labels, logos, and stickers, whilst the rights of the elite food groups with PDO status also means that, in the EU and other PDO affiliated countries, only products genuinely originating in that region are allowed to be identified as such in commerce. Consequently, PDO status helps us, the consumer, to make better informed decisions, reducing time spent in impersonal supermarkets whilst also enhancing the taste experience in our cosy kitchens. However, what benefits does it bring to the producers and manufacturers, many of whom stand as the sole guardians of ancient practices? To answer that question, we must circle back to our beloved Parmesan.
In terms of PDO authenticity the only true Parmesan is Parmigiano Reggiano. A cheese which is currently being made using the same processes and in the same places as it was over eight centuries ago. Since this time, when Benedictine and Cistercian monks produced the first wheels in an attempt to create a long-lasting cheese, the quality of the cow’s milk used has remained of paramount importance. In the current age of PDO-status Parmesan, the milk is sourced from a shared selection of around 3,000 small farms, all which must operate (as with all other stages of the cheese’s production) within the geographical confines of the provinces of Parma, Mantua (to the east of the Po River), Reggio Emilia, Modena, and Bologna (to the west of the Reno River). The cows themselves are fed off pasture in the mountainous Apennines region as PDO restrictions explicitly state that cows are not allowed to be fed on ‘silage, fermented fodder, or grain based on animal products’ as these feeds could contain preservatives that might make their way into the finished cheese. The milk is vital to the final taste of the cheese and discerning connoisseurs will tell you that the immaculate diet of the cows creates a cheese in which you can taste a spectrum of grassy fields, toasted nuts, and tropical fruits.
The continued use of steep prairie areas in this region not only ensures the cheese’s quality but is also vital to maintaining the quality of the land itself. The lack of economically viable farming options for the neighbouring hills and mountains that do not fall within the Parmigiano Reggiano production area has led to abandonment and problems of soil instability which can often only be reduced by costly reforestation programmes. Dairy farmers who are fortunate enough to operate within the production area can afford to continue operating because the price of a litre of milk destined for the production of a cheese with PDO status is commonly twice as high as the price of milk for other cheeses; a substantial increase when approximately 550 litres of milk is used in the production of each enormous 38-kilo wheel of cheese. This added value is redistributed throughout the farm, as the labour-intensive techniques used generate higher levels of employment in this form of agriculture than in the industrial dairy system, which is dependent on accelerated scale enlargement, intensification, and specialization.
The socio-economic benefits demonstrated in the fields are also reflected within the cheese making factories themselves. The limited number of producers which make Parmesan to PDO specification ensures that demand – and consequently production - remains high all year round. The well paid, reliable working opportunities available which arise because of this have been seen to reduce rural exodus, especially in younger demographics. Naturally, extremely high global demand has necessitated a degree of mechanisation to occur within the cheese making process. Yet, modern interventions such as mechanical cheese turners still operate side-by-side with deeply traditional techniques that require highly trained individuals such as the Battitore; independent testers who verify the quality of the cheese by tapping it with a small hammer and listening to the noise the wheel emits. Those who continue to practice these artisanal techniques are seen as living noble livelihoods and many job roles are continuously passed down through generations of a family, lending Parmigiano a proud, almost familial significance to those who are associated with its production. In a wider sense, Parmigiano Reggiano holds true cultural significance to many Italians quite simply due to the pursuit of craftsmanship and artistry it embodies. Meaning that despite centuries of availability, Parmigiano, nor its quality are ever taken for granted. The successful production of each tongue warming, sharp, and crystalline wheel is seen as a triumph, not just for the cheese makers and farmers, but for the area, and Italy as a whole.
This association, between Parmigiano Reggiano and excellence, is what non-PDO imitations have long built their success off. In countries such as the United States, the EU’s geographical indicator scheme has been largely ignored, and quite often attacked. For example, one prominent US thinktank states:
‘Europe’s approach to GI protection mainly serves to privilege traditional producers at the expense of consumer welfare and economic growth. The connection between quality and origin is often exaggerated by European policymakers, and the level of protection GIs enjoy prevents the flow of accurate information to consumers’.
To put it quite simply this viewpoint ignores the vital connection between product and location which is essential to taste. In Parmigiano Reggiano’s case it is the special milk, characterised by unique and intense bacterial activity of the autochthonous microbial flora, which is the foundation of the cheese. Without the local forage, grass and hay that constitute the cows diet, it seems impossible for alternative manufacturers to create anything resembling the same product.
Unfortunately, imitative products are very often not attempting to replicate Parmesan, but to simply use the esteemed name to sell subpar products. In November 2012, FDA agents made an investigation at “Castle Cheese”, a cheese factory in Pennsylvania. They found
that the products distributed as “100 percent real Parmesan” in the largest grocery store of the country, were falsified with cut-rate substitutes and fillers, such as wood pulp. Castle Cheese’s “100 percent grated parmesan cheese”, was actually found to be made up of a mixture of Swiss, mozzarella, white cheddar and cellulose. Multiple examples of similar deliberate misinformation abound, raising the question, who is really preventing accurate flow of information to consumers, geographic indicators, or the manufacturers of deliberately misleading imitations?
Despite the evident quality of the cheese itself, the farmers, manufacturers and distributors of Parmigiano Reggiano have had to rely on each other to survive the rapidly running waters of globalised capitalism. All those involved with the manufacture of the cheese have entered into a collective agreement to keep to specific production regulations, a process overseen since 1928, by the Consorzio del Formaggio Parmigiano-Reggiano, a trade union to which all Parmigiano Reggiano producers belong. It is this collaborative effort, in partnership with the EU’s PDO scheme, that has turned the cheese making process into one which serves all involved, from farmer right through to the consumer. And whilst the system has had to adapt throughout recent decades, it would be wrong to view it as a redefinition of local agriculture in response to new, globalised markets. Rather, it should be viewed as a mature and eloquent example of contemporary rural development that prioritises tradition, quality, culture, and community. One which depends equally on the fact that the consumer appreciates it’s outstanding quality, and that there is binding legislation which protects it from being economically, socially, and culturally undermined.
Jacob Smith
Jacob is a writer whose focus centres on the ever-evolving relationship between peoples. He has a long-held affinity for food and cooking, a fact chiefly attributable to his mother, Liz. Outside of writing, Jacob is the Social media and Communications Officer for Incomindios UK, the British branch of a Swiss-based indigenous rights organisation and is currently concluding his MA Conflict, Security & Development at the University of Exeter.
Find him on Twitter: @JacobSm10470232