Perhaps it's a quirk of Southern nostalgia that turns a school-lunch staple, found side-by-side with baloney sandwiches, into a delicacy at the Augusta National.

It's simple. It's inexpensive. It's tradition.

And the ubiquitous pimento cheese sandwich, in its green wax-paper wrapper, is one of the most popular sandwiches served during the Masters Tournament.

Augusta National officials couldn't say exactly how many of the $1 sandwiches are eaten each year, but pimento cheese is one of the top three sellers. They also won't say where the cheese spread is made, although it's supposed to be whipped up locally and shipped in cartons to the golf course for assembly on white bread.

The concoction is legendary. Aficionados wax rhapsodic over the sandwiches.

``They're creamy, and it's all kind of mixed up,'' said Capt. Rachelle Sherer, a physician at Dwight D. Eisenhower Army Medical Center. ``Then the bread's nice and squishy.''

Capt. Sherer, 28, is from Indiana, where they don't make pimento cheese. Three years ago, at her first Masters, she was intrigued by the unusual sandwich and decided to try one.

``I had never seen it. I'd never heard of it,'' she said. ``But I thought I'd try it just for kicks.

``I loved it,'' she said, emphasizing the love part.

Now come tournament time, ``I eat nothing but pimento cheese,'' Capt. Sherer said.

The annual frenzy is a hold-over from the earlier part of the century, when pimento cheese was a delicacy for the Southern farm families who created it, said Millie Coleman, author of The Frances Virginia Tea Room Cook Book, which offers recipes from the legendary Atlanta restaurant.

``Pimento cheese was a gourmet item,'' the Carrollton, Ga., native said. ``Generally, you ate what you grew. You had plenty of turnip greens and other vegetables, but on the farm you didn't produce your own cheese. And when Southern farmers did make cheese, it was a white cheese, like cottage cheese or ricotta.

``Yellow cheese was Northern cheese, and to have store-bought cheese, that was a treat.''

To turn it into a Southern creation, they mixed it with mayonnaise, a typically Southern sandwich spread, and tossed in pimento peppers, which were once grown and canned across Georgia. They served it on white bread, not hard Northern rolls.

``Our heritage was the heritage of England and Scotland and Ireland, where they had soft bread like scones,'' Mrs. Coleman said. ``In the North, where they came from other parts of Europe, they grew wheat that produced a harder flour. Flour from the types of wheat grown in the South is softer, almost like cake flour.''

Together, the bread and cheese spread produced sandwiches that were ``soft and tender, like our Southern ladies,'' she added with a laugh. Cut into triangles for easy eating and trimmed of crusts -- the first part of a sandwich to go stale -- the sandwiches were ideal for ladies' teas. Mrs. Coleman plans to serve them at a ``golf widows' tea'' she'll hold at Barnes & Noble Booksellers at 3 p.m. Saturday.

They also were great for picnics, because the cheese spread kept well and didn't make sandwiches soggy. And as the United States entered World War II and had to deal with ration coupons, pimento cheese was a protein-rich substitute for meat.

Today, pimento cheese sandwiches are still served as finger food at weddings, and people who grew up eating the spread know how easy it is to slap together one of the sandwiches for their children. While homemade pimento cheese is still the ideal -- with cheddar cheese, mayonnaise and pimentos whipped together in the blender or food processor -- pre-packaged spread from delis and grocery stores has made it easier than ever to eat.

Many people now tailor pimento cheese to their own tastes. Recipes on the Internet call for extras such as garlic or onions to be tossed into the mix.

``I'd have to say there are few people who come in here and say just, `I want a pimento cheese sandwich on wheat bread,' '' said Faulkner Warlick, owner of Paul's Place on Broad Street, which makes its own pimento cheese. ``They'll order it grilled, or ask for it with a slice of tomato or bacon. Out west, I've seen it grilled with a dab of pesto on top. It's really up to the customer.''

At the Masters, however, the traditional serving still holds sway and doesn't show any sign of slowing.

``My husband -- who I always say is the first Yankee I've ever met who liked turnip greens and didn't try to put sugar on his grits -- and I have had Masters tickets for 25 years,'' said Mrs. Coleman. ``And when he first started bringing his brothers from Pittsburgh, they saw the pimento cheese sandwiches and said, `What is this?' And I just explained to them that it's a Southern staple that you could have for breakfast or lunch or dinner.''