Recently I had lunch with a group of colleagues at Zingerman’s Roadhouse in Ann Arbor, Mich. We were looking over the menu and one exclaimed,”Oh, pimento cheese! They have pimento cheese! Have you ever had it?”

I was surrounded by non-Southerners. Some had tried it; most had never heard of it.

Pimento cheese reared its Southern head twice on that menu. Once, as an appetizer (at $5.75) and in a main dish pasta, called Pimento Cheese and Peppered Bacon Macaroni, for $18.50. Someone at the table ordered the macaroni dish, and when it arrived, my fellow diners viewed it as scientists pondering a microscope slide.

“This is pimento cheese?”

Isn’t this interesting? What kind of cheese is this?”

“So I guess you just make the pimento cheese sauce and mix it in with the macaroni and bacon.”

Being the well-brought-up Southern girl I am, I smiled, nodded and took the taste that was offered.

But, just between you and me, here are my answers:

No, this is not pimento cheese.

No, it is not interesting. It is weird. Pimento cheese is made with sharp orange cheddar. It is NOT made with white cheese.

You do not make “pimento cheese sauce.” It’s not a sauce, it’s a spread.

Can you tell I’m a pimento cheese purist?

Well, by golly, I’ve got a right to be. Like most Southerners my age, I grew up eating pimento cheese. My mom made it in a big bowl, covered it and kept it in the refrigerator. Summer lunches were either sandwiches of pimento cheese or tomato, both served on Bunny Bread white. For a special treat, my mother might toast that pimento cheese sandwich until the filling got all melty.

Who could have predicted that our little pimento cheese would grow up to be a trendy food?

Well, it’s happened. Pimento cheese is popping up everywhere. Food blogs all over the country are extolling the virtues of this Southern classic. In Texas, they’re serving it with Fritos. One food columnist called it the “South’s answer to queso dip.” Restaurants are serving it with BLTs, in a spread with pineapple and pita points. New York magazine called it “the country bumpkin of hamburger toppings.”

Nation’s Restaurant News, a magazine for the food-service industry predicts pimento cheese will be the fourth biggest restaurant trend in 2011 (behind neckmeats, whey and kumquats). I promise I am not making this up.

When my non-Southern dining companions found out that I’d been eating pimento cheese since I was a tadpole, they peppered me with questions about how to make it at home. It’s the easiest thing in the world, and I’m going to tell you how to do it, so you can impress all your friends and be trendy.

(If you want to serve this with neckbones and kumquats, you’re on your own.)

Pimento Cheese

All you need to make pimento cheese

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
That’s right. It really is this simple. You need sharp cheddar, a little jar of diced pimento, mayonnaise (I use Hellman’s Light, always. Use what you like, but in the name of Paula Deen, do not use Miracle Whip. Because you know what? It isn’t mayonnaise!), salt, pepper and cayenne pepper.
 
You also need a bowl and a grater. I’ve had that box grater from Williams Sonoma for more than 20 years and I love it. (A note here about cheese: Notice that you don’t see packages of grated cheese in this picture? There’s a reason for that. First, it just doesn’t taste good. It’s coated with powdered cellulose to keep it from sticking together. That’s a sawdust derivative. It won’t kill you, but it will make your cheese taste icky. And really, how hard is it to grate cheese??)
 
So let’s start by grating that cheese
 

Cheddar cheese, grated

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Admit it. Doesn’t that look so much better than the pre-shredded stuff? You know it does.
 
To that beautiful mound of shredded sharp cheese, add the little jar of pimento and about 3/4 cup of mayo. Add salt, pepper and a dash of cayenne. Mix it up. As you mix, the cheese shreds will get mashy I used 24 ounces of cheese, and I ended up adding just a little more mayo. You want it just held together, not mayonnaise-y. When you’re finished, it will look like this:
The finished product

 

 
 
 
 
 
How easy was that? Make a sandwich, slather it on a celery stick, spread it on a cracker. I just hope that pimento cheese will keep its Southern humility with all this trendy attention. I’d hate to see our old friend get above its raisings.