Rouses Magazine - Winter 2023

Rockin’ Around the Christmas Brie

By Liz Thorpe

If I brought a soft, creamy cheese with a white rind to your house this weekend, you’d almost certainly hug me and say delightedly, “You brought Brie!!” And you might be right. But then, if it’s me, you might well be wrong because there are dozens, even hundreds, of Brie-like cheeses out there that are not actually Brie. The technical name for this style is bloomy rind, and over 80% of what’s sold in the U.S. is purchased between Halloween and New Year’s Eve. Forget “fall.” We’re entering Bloomy Rind season.

aturally, you may now be wondering, what makes a cheese a bloomy rind? And, how is that different from Brie? All Brie is bloomy rind cheese, but not all bloomy rind cheeses are Brie. Bloomy rind is a cheesemaking style characterized by several key techniques and results. Bloomy rind cheeses are made very gently so the large, soft curds retain significant amounts of moisture. They are typically formed into relatively small cheeses — anywhere from four ounces to, at most, six pounds, and they are not intended for long periods of aging. Bloomy rind cheeses are sold at a few weeks to a few months of age. Most distinctively, white mold spores (penicillium candidum or penicillium camemberti) are introduced during cheesemaking. These mold spores are oxygen-loving and bloom like microscopic flowers on the exterior of the cheese. Over the course of several weeks that mold forms a thin, soft, white skin (or rind) on the surface of the cheese. This is the reason many people associate the aroma of Brie-ish cheeses with mushrooms — the fungal smells are built into that molded rind! The resulting cheese is soft and creamy, with an edible white rind and relatively mild flavors of butter, cream, salt and mushroom. Over time, the molded rind breaks down the fats and proteins in the cheese, creating a runnier texture and giving off an ammonia scent. Too much time, and the cheese’s interior turns to liquid, while the rind becomes a mottled brown color. Together, these deliver bitter flavor and intensely Windex-y aroma. That’s when the cheese is past its prime and doesn’t taste good.

Brie happens to be the poster child for bloomy rind cheeses. Traditionally, Brie was made in northern France in six-ish pound discs — long on diameter and short on

height — and served in pie shaped wedges. That’s still the case today, but Brie doesn’t have to be made in France, nor does it have to made in these large, flat wheels. In fact, most of the Brie sold in the United States is now made here in convenient, eight-ounce rounds sold in their own wooden box. La Bonne Vie is an American-made brand that offers Brie in both wedges and rounds. A French alternative, and one that is beloved by every single person I’ve ever served it to, is Fromager d’Affinois. Translated, it’s the cheese from Affinois , and there are a few special qualities only this cheese possesses. First, the milk undergoes a special filtration prior to cheesemaking which contributes to the most gloriously smooth, spreadable texture you can imagine. It’s like eating room temperature butter. Second, the rind on this cheese is masterful. Many people don’t care for the rind on Brie because it can be chewy, bitter or ammoniated. Not Fromager d’Affinois. The rind is soft, thin and marvelously mild. It allows you to really focus on every bite of whipped, creamy indulgence.

While firmer styles of cheese like Jack, Havarti and Cheddar are better known for flavored varieties, the buttery neutrality of Brie is an ideal foil to various additions. You can do this yourself at home by taking a round of Brie, cutting it in half so you separate the top and bottom rind, and layering pesto, herbs, coarsely ground pepper, honey, fig jam or (should you be so lucky as to have this option) freshly shaved truffle. For those of us who aren’t looking for extra work, there are French Bries with flavors already added (like Couronne) or mushrooms (check out Champignon). Another Brie-as-meal option to consider is Brie en croute. See the sidebar for more on this heavenly marriage of Brie, various sweet and savory additions, and the magic of a warm oven.

What about Brie-like cheeses that go by other names? Again, they all share that edible, white molded rind and soft, creamy texture, but each cheese brings its own personality to the table. Brie’s earthier-tasting cousin is Camembert. Originally, while Brie was made in big, flat discs, Camembert was made in small, half-pound rounds. That delivered a different texture, with Camembert traditionally being denser and springier than sticky, high-moisture Brie. Being smaller, Camembert is more impacted by the edible rind. Both the aromatics (more mushroomy pungency) and the flavor (more broccoli taste) are more intense than Brie. Today, however, Camembert can be made domestically, and when it is it tends to be milder than its French inspiration. Look for La Bonne Vie Camembert and mix up your holiday gatherings with a blind tasting of Brie vs. Camembert!

Other favorites of mine (and every other cheese-eating person I’ve encountered) are the triple crème cheeses. Triple crème, or triple cream, is a cream-enriched Brie-type which, when made in France, must by law contain 72% butterfat. La Bonne Vie makes several triple cream Bries in both rounds and wedges, and the French produce several brands, each sold under its own name. Saint André, Excellence and Délice de Bourgogne are a few to look for. With these cheeses you can expect an abundance of cream — in both flavor and texture. Fat tends to mute flavor and, in general, triple cremes are less about the mushroom aromatics of the rind and more about well-salted butter. They are luscious, they don’t run, and that total mouth-coating richness is superb with sparkling wine. The effervescence of champagne or prosecco works like a knife, slicing through the fat, refreshing your palate — and making it that much easier for you to eat more cheese. Similarly, pairings that introduce crunch are great — my go-to is a fruit-and-nut-laced crisp for textural contrast and little bites of sweetened fruit.

While the triple crème is a French-invented adaptation of a bloomy rind, you can trust the Americans to introduce some really novel and delicious variations to this style. Nearly all bloomy rinds are made of cow milk, but this style of cheesemaking doesn’t require cow milk. One of the pioneering makers of artisan cheese in America, a woman named Mary Keehn out of California, invented her signature recipe, Humboldt Fog, in the 1990s. Her farm, Cypress Grove, continues to produce this goat milk bloomy rind today. The wheel looks more like a layer cake than like a cheese. The rind does break down the cheese’s outer layer, creating a gooey texture, but the interior stays flaky and fresh, with a clean, lemony flavor and tangy finish that marries beautifully with the fungaltasting rind. Perhaps even better for special gatherings and celebrations is Humboldt Fog’s cousin, Truffle Tremor. Here, that moist, crumbly interior is heavily laced with grated black truffle. Talk about earthy.

American artisan cheeses are often more expensive than their mass-produced and imported counterparts. That’s due to the extremely labor-intensive work of making and aging them. One of my top five favorite cheeses in the world falls into this camp, and there’s no better time to splurge on

Jasper Hill Harbison than now. Each small wheel of cheese is painstakingly bound in the cambium (still growing, under the visible bark) layer of a spruce tree. These strips of wood are harvested on the farm’s property and imbue each wheel of cheese with the woodsy complexity of a freshly cut Christmas tree. The cheese can be served whole, the white rind carefully cut away and the pudding-like interior served with a spoon.

It’s always important to eat cheese at room temperature. When served cold, all the complexities and nuances of flavor are stifled and the texture is more likely to be firm — or worse, gummy. But it’s especially essential when enjoying bloomy rind cheeses that you give them at least an hour out of refrigeration. This style of cheese is singularly known for its kinship to butter and, often, for its subtle flavors. If the cheese is cold, you’re denying yourself the pleasure of sharing this lusciousness with the people you love.