Hey, what’s that stuff on my spaghetti?

I used to think that all Parmesan cheese came in a shiny green container with a spout on top.

The label did say “Parmesan cheese,” but what came out of the box was a vaguely orange, really salty, slightly funky powder that we poured onto piles of spaghetti or stirred into a variety of Italian-style casseroles. Until relatively recently, that’s what most Americans thought Parmesan cheese was.

Italian-Americans might have used something else at home, but most of the old homestyle Italian restaurants with the checkered tablecloths and the candle in a Chianti bottle usually offered a bowl of the granular Parmesan to sprinkle at will over pizza or pasta. And if that’s the only kind of Parmesan cheese you had ever eaten, you couldn’t be blamed for not knowing there was something better out there – much better.

The Food and Drug Administration had an official definition for Parmesan cheese as early as the 1950s, but it was pretty broad. Basically, Parmesan had to be a dry cheese – less than a third moisture – with a grainy texture that was made from cow’s milk.

There were other requirements, but the stuff in the green box met them all. Nothing in the definition said Parmesan had to taste like real cheese.

And, in fact, much of the Parmesan cheese we have been consuming is not real cheese, at least not 100 percent cheese. Some of it is wood pulp.

The FDA actually allows producers to include wood pulp – in the form of refined cellulose – in their grated cheese as an agent to help keep it from clumping. But a recent study of store-bought Parmesan by Bloomberg Business discovered that many companies include more cellulose in their cheese than the FDA allows.

Federal guidelines allow 2 to 4 percent cellulose in Parmesan cheese. Some cheeses in the grocery bin had nearly 9 percent, and many more exceeded the minimum.

This is not a health concern. We apparently can consume a fair amount of wood pulp without doing much harm. Hey, it works for beavers, right?

But the FDA now is cracking down on some companies on the basis of false advertising. They’re supposed to be selling cheese, not wood.

One company, Castle Cheese Inc. of Pennsylvania, was cited for using too much cellulose as well as other substances in its Parmesan cheese product. Federal officials said that, while product labels said the contents included Parmesan or Romano cheese, they actually contained “trimmings of various cheeses and other ingredients.”

This is my favorite line in the citation: “Your Parmesan cheese products do not contain any Parmesan cheese.”

Castle Cheese subsequently has declared bankruptcy.

Again, the lack of Parmesan cheese in Parmesan cheese is not necessarily a health hazard but it certainly is reason for outrage. If you’ve just spent $20 a pound for veal to make veal Parmesan, you don’t want to be dusting it with unidentifiable cheese trimmings and wood pulp.

There’s a solution to this dilemma: Buy real Parmesan cheese, by which I mean Parmigiano-Reggiano imported from Italy.

In Italy, anything labeled Parmigiano-Reggiano comes from the provinces of Parma and Reggio Emilia, from which the name derives, or from parts of Bologna, Modena and Mantua. Most of the rest of Europe also carefully polices what can be sold as Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese.

In the U.S., it’s expensive – anywhere from about $9 to more than $20 a pound. But it’s expensive to make, with the aging and drying process significantly reducing the volume of the cheese that can be marketed.

Making Kraft singles is a lot cheaper.

But the expense is worth it for the real thing. It boasts a rich, nutty flavor, and a little goes a long way. It also lasts forever in the fridge.

The only drawback besides expense is that you have to grate it yourself. It doesn’t pour from a green box.

Again, though, the effort is worth it. Get yourself a good bottle of Tuscan red, grate a little Parmigiano-Reggiano over some rotini with butter and garlic, and enjoy.

The wine, by the way, goes much better with cheese than wood pulp.

This story was originally published February 21, 2016 at 4:01 PM with the headline "Hey, what’s that stuff on my spaghetti?."