I didn't grow up loving sandwiches the way some people do. Quick lunctime PB&J's and 2 a.m. post-party medianoches at Cuban diners in Miami – I viewed the food as mundane, a source of physical nourishment rather than a culinary wonder. It took a move to Italy for me to realize how truly great a sandwich could be. After spending a few months living Bologna, my boyfriend Marco took me to his hometown on the Romagnolan coast. There, he inducted me into the cult of the piadina.
We were at a tiny kiosk somewhere between Russi and Ravenna, nestled among peach groves and swathes of bare farmland. Inside, a piadinaro was churning out sandwiches served on a biscuit-like flatbread called a piadina. (See the recipe.) Marco advised me to start with the classic Romagnolan version in which two halves of a piadina contain a filling of soft, unaged squaquerone cheese, prosciutto, and spicy wild arugula.
(open full article www.saveur.com)