I've always thought of provolone as a sandwich cheese, probably because it's the cheese many Philadelphians choose to go on the American city's famous cheesesteaks (although others would argue that this sandwich of grilled, thinly sliced beef and onions should be made only with neon-orange Cheez Whiz). Provolone is also one of the cheese options at many made-to-order sandwich shops, alongside others that slice well and melt easily, such as Swiss, Monterey Jack and cheddar.
But good provolone has a much richer and more complex flavour than the generic, waxy-textured (and flavoured) sandwich shop type. After all, these places aren't using aged Denominazione di Origine Protetta provolone that's made in Italy, but instead are making their sandwiches with the cheap, mass-produced stuff.
Good provolone has a flavour that can be mild or sharp, depending on how long it's been aged. It has a thin, edible rind that's darker in colour than the main body of the cheese. The texture is semi-firm, making it easy to slice or grate (although it won't grate as finely as parmesan) and it melts without the fat separating out, making it a delicious option for a grilled cheese sandwich, perhaps with the addition of a thin layer of finely chopped mostarda fruits between the two layers of cheese and bread.