Camembert et Brie, They've Created a Monster

A delicious, delicious, breaded monster. 

Usually I'm a traditional kind of guy, I'll hold open doors and while wearing wingtips and sneezing into a cloth handkerchief, and it definitely carries over into cheese. For example I don't want Cambozola, I want a wedge of good Gorgonzola Dulce and and some true blue Camembert de Normandie. I was, then, skeptical though intrigued when I came upon the sign for this cheese reading: Camembert et Brie. 

What could it mean? What mysterious quality linked these two cheeses somehow together? What made this disk that dimensionally was in between the two and looked like the result of a DIY deep frying process worthy of these two epic monikers? By the time I had the chance to try it I suddenly stopped caring, though, and got to enjoying this oh-so-nommable delight. 

Origin: Calvados, France

Milk: Cow, unpasteurized

Rennet: Animal

Affinage: 2-3 weeks

Notes: It is no normal Camembert and no normal Brie, that is for sure. It is treated briefly with brandy from the Calvados region and then pressed with a spiced breading, and for those of us not familiar Calvados is in fact in Normandie, making this more Camembert than Brie. Kind of. 

Who cares, it's seriously delicious. 

Thoughts: Smells sweet, taste begins milky and builds to a rich mushroomy flavor that lingers on into the aftertaste.  Throughout the bite both sweet and spicy play off one another in a dynamic mix that highlights the nuances of both. The paste is light and smooth as anything, creamier than most Bries more like a firm pudding that immediately melts in the mouth. An incredibly bold presence and complex spicy flavor mixed with a lighter than air texture is to die for. Rich rich rich, like eating a meal is this cheese.

This could spark off a whole brandy/breading of cheeses trend.

This should spark off a whole brandy/breading of cheeses trend.  

Delice du Jura, The Cheese-Packager's Worst Nightmare

When one is walking in a room full of cheese, one expects a certain.... cheesy aroma. This is normal even in a refrigerated room, and yet one table is always impossible to mistake: the French table. Even though our domestic and pasteurized imported versions of Brie or goat cheese lack the depth of aroma of their European counterparts, still the French have a few tricks up their sleeves. Cheeses such as Epoisses or Munster come to mind, and included in this elite entourage of essences is today's Delice du Jura. 

Today's title is not, however, a reference to the smell that is sure to be deposited on your hands for days after handling the cheese, but rather the consistency. Parceling this cheese up to sell is kind of like trying to package soup in plastic wrap. Smelly, smelly, delicious soup. 

Origin: France

Milk: Cow, pasteurized

Rennet: Animal

Affinage: Two weeks at the most

Notes: This is the cheese people are talking about when they say they're afraid of stinky cheese. It's like the cheese boogeyman hiding the the closet of curds. BBrrrrrrrr.

Thoughts: This washed rind cheese is perhaps the most runny and unmanageable cheese I have ever encountered. The aroma is instantly pungent and harsh, even chilled, and the paste is more soupy than solid. Creamier than most any other cheese, the flavor is actually rather mild and not as meaty as some other washed rind cheeses but gets carried away in the intense milkiness. The aftertaste is mostly that of the pungent aroma and all in all the cheese is a lot of trouble to ship, store, and eat. That being said, it is a divine a flavor for those looking for a real stinker and will push the envelope for even the most confident cheese taster. The reward, though nearly balanced by the off-putting smell, is considerable once you taste it, so I would label it a cautious "expert level cheese" and recommend it accordingly. 

For all of those who missed it.

"Bbbrrrrr" is the sound of shivers going down your spine.   

Reblochon, Per Request and Because It's Delicious

Allow me to apologize, dear reader, for the otherwise unforgivable failure of posting consistency. Just like that famous Beatles song, I'm Back in the USSA. Or something like that. I don't know. 

Between the 6 hour time difference, the prevalence of American English being spoken all of a sudden, the relatively massive cars and the noted lack of oversalted food here, you'd think I was in a different country or something. This is all a round about way of saying I've finally made the trip back to the USA, and am currently in a state of limbo of sorts; stranded between university life in Germany and university life in Colorado. For an exchange student who hasn't been home in a year, that state of limbo looks like hurried plans to meet up with everyone ever, trying to do a million (no joke, one million) administrative things, and generally wanting to eat when others want to sleep, sleep when they want to eat, etc. Also always wanting to say the German words/grammar instead of the English, despite the fact that no one around you now speaks German. 

Moral of the story; boo hoo my life is so tough that you should all take pity on me and forgive the late post. Which goes as follows.

In honor of the continent I have so recently left, today I bring you a cheese that you can only find there. Or rather, one that you should only really look for there. It is, you guessed it, a French brie style cheese called Reblochon. That ruh-bloe-SHAW to all of you not gifted in French. It translates roughly into "to milk again", but can also mean "to steal, swipe". You see back in the day tax was based on how much a milkman milked. So to save a few ducats the clever dairy man could not fully milk the cows, pay the tax, and then milk the cows again. This second milking, a richer and creamier milking, would then go on to become Reblochon, a cheese known and loved throughout France. Made my the wives (tradition insists it is a woman's product) for the family, it is a staple French cheese and an absolute gift for the outsider fortunate enough to try it. 

Origin: Haute-Savoie, France

Milk: Cow, unpasteurized

Rennet: Animal

Affinage: ~6 weeks

Notes: Will melt all over anything as it comes to room temperature. For best results bring to room temperature over a baguette and then enjoy a hassle-free taste of cheese decadence. Finger food for the fortunate. 45% fat, AOC, uncooked, pressed, washed with whey during the aging process.

Thoughts: A very chewy and minerally rind , so thick as to almost constitute a sandwich, is the first impression of this cheese which, though it smells like those 4 week old leftovers, taste mild and very pleasant. Smooth as could be and so light on the palate one could forget it’s there, the paste of this cheese is the most reserved and subtle of pleasures. Garlic, mushroom, salt, nuts, more garlic, and a clean grassy aftertaste to die for play off the palate in a delicate symphony. I usually insist on eating the rind whenever I enjoy such a cheese but in this case it completely covers up the beauty of the paste with its thick, chewy heaviness. Hints of tart from the raw milk show up here and there and the flavor flows dynamically from start to finish, an absolute delight. 

Random Thought to Burden You Further With

If I seem cranky from now on, don't worry. Normal behavior for those leaving a land of unpasteurized cheese.   

Montagnolo, The Other Cambozola

I'll save you, dear reader, the drawn out rant about quality control and corporate greed and instead dive right on into the review. Same company, same concept, let's see if it's the same cheese. 

Origin: Bavaria, Germany

Milk: Cow, pasteurized

Rennet: Animal

Affinage: 4-5 weeks

Notes: Uses Penicillium Camemberti and Roqueforti 

Thoughts: The flavor of this blue-brie is not too far different from that of the Cambozola, both start with a very creamy and rich texture of the brie and the tang of the blue only comes in later. This one, however, has a distinctly meaty flavor that develops towards the end and finishes with the characteristic aftertaste of brie that bites at the roof of the mouth. In this respect alone it is worth trying even if you've already tried Cambozola, but don't go looking for miracles. To be quite honest both cheeses fall short of a good slab of Gorgonzola Dolce which, in my mind, fulfills the same requirements but infinitely better. 

Cambozola

Being a cheese hipster does not make you cool. Actually, being an anything hipster does not make you cool, yes this means you on your fixed gear bike. The difference here is that trying to be a cheese hipster will find you relatively hidden cheeses like Montagnolo that may or many not be good while you miss the masterpieces like Gorgonzola. Being a fixie hipster just gets you glared at.   

Soignon Goat Brie, More Marketing Madness

Here again we find a cheese that owes its existence to the mighty power of the Dollar. Or actually the Euro. Made by French cheese giant Soignon, this cheese is just what it says it is, a brie style cheese that uses goat milk. It practically reviews itself.

Origin: France
Milk: Goat, pasteurized
Rennet: Vegetarian
Affinage: ~2 weeks
Notes: 30% fat content and a burning jealousy of all the attention Brie de Meaux receives.
Thoughts: But not really. On the one hand this cheese is pretty blatantly not trying to compete with real-deal Brie, and on the other it actually is a massively popular seller. Stack it up on a shelf with a sample in front of it and it'll sell like foil hats at a Tea Party convention. Why? It actually tastes decently good and sticks to its strengths. Goat's milk is by nature very sweet, so what better than to make a creamy sweet brie out of it? Undertones of that clean grassy tang come through now and again adding depth but the dominant impression is the rich sweetness. Not altogether bad for a corporate ploy.


Caution
If you or your friends are disgusted by the thought of goat cheese and would rather stay stuck in your ways than branch out, avoid this cheese. 

Cambozola, They Did What?

Imagine the old Reese's Pieces commercials. "You got your chocolate in my peanut butter!" exclaims little Freddy. "You got your peanut butter in my chocolate!" exclaims little Frankie. Then they throw both away and go and buy a Reese's Cup, roll jingle. 

This is kind of like that. Imagine one Bavarian says "Du hast deine Camembert mit meine Gorgonzola gemischt!"[translation: I say old chap you seem to have sullied my Gorgonzola with a piece of your fromage de Camembert, what about that then]. The other replies "Du hast deine Gorgonzola mit meine Camembert gemischt!" [translation: Is that so my dear sir? A thousand pardons but I fear I must inform you that you as well have most certainly introduced an alien portion of your Gorgonzola to my honest fromage de Camembert]. Then they throw both away and go start a cheese company, enter Cambozola. 

Truly a mix of cheese and clever marketing campaigns it is one a select group of cheeses; the Blue-veined Bries. Sound Frankenstinian? It is. Sound terrible? It's not actually, in fact for being a factory lovechild of a market gap and some bloke with a business degree it's not bad at all. Though to be fair that's kind of like saying that, for being pumped full of more drugs than the world may ever fully understand, Charlie Scheen is fairly coherent. 

A little back-handed? Maybe. But the producers of Cambozola aren't looking to dethrone Camembert, Gorgonzola, or any established cheese, they're looking to make a buck. And I'd imagine they've made a few. 

Origin: Bavaria, Germany

Milk: Cow, pasteurized

Rennet: Animal

Affinage: 5-8 weeks

Notes: There's a double crème version as well, but this one has the full honest 75% fat content. 

Thoughts: While definitely veined with Penicillium, the triple crème of the Camembert both balances and compliments the sharpness of the blue nicely. A delicious mix that is great for spreading and pairing, the concept works surprisingly well when played out in curd form. There is nothing delicate or refined about this cheese, and it even lacks the honest rusticity of other hearty cheese, but for some reason it's still a huge hit at parties and sells like pizzas in a town that didn't formerly have anyone selling pizzas. 

Caution

Beware of funky names like Cambozola, not every producer is fortunate enough to have found a combination and recipe that works. In fact, if you want truly high quality product just buy Camembert and Gorgonzola and eat them separately, or maybe alternate. Easy as that. 

Brie Bellerive, French Brie for the Masses

Some time ago I reviewed Camembert Bellerive, and after much general babbling I got around to reviewing what is actually a fairly decent cheese, with the reservation that it's not what it would be in France. Not that that should be surprising. 

Today then you can guess what is to become of Brie Bellerive, the brie analogue made by the same folks. Still from France. Still pasteurized. Maybe a little more disappointing than it's brother Camembert.

Origin: France

Milk: Cow, pastuerized

Rennet: Animal

Affinage: A few weeks

Notes: One of the more interesting and, to be honest more telling, alterations they made was to take the usual Brie size and, well, give it the old Shrink-ray. In fact it's the same size as the Camembert, which is supposed to be small. This shouldn't affect the flavor in any significant way but I will say it fills you the customer in on what angle they're going for. Money money money money. Money. 

Thoughts: This Brie is on the more pungent end of your staple bries, with a rind that gives a defined tangy bite but nothing unpleasant or overpowering. The paste itself is rather mild and on the whole is a solid cheese but nothing special. Those are my exact words from my tasting notes and especially now that I've tried true French Bries I wouldn't put it any differently. 


Caution
Once you've tried the true French stuff there's no going back. I'm doomed to not eat French Brie after I leave this exchange program until I make it back to Europe. The horror.   

Brie de Melun, Finally a True Brie

Dear Readers,
I realize that many of the cheeses I post are actually unavailable in the good old U S of A due to their raw milk status, but like any good resistance fighter I have got to get the word out. There is a myth among many Europeans and even quite a few Americans that folks in the US just don't have the taste-buds to appreciate raw milk cheeses, hence the lack of uproar or general protest over the ban. This cannot stand.
In the interest of fighting this misconception, and of course the more overarching goal of spreading a love of fine cheeses to all nations, lands, and tounges, I present you today with a cheese unavailable in the US but to be sought after whenever possible. A world apart from the plastic-y, tasteless, ultra-pasteurized imposters often found in supermarkets, Brie de Melun is a true Brie, one of the few available to those of us not fortunate enough to frequent the streets of Pear-ee.

Origin: Seine et Marne, Aube, and Yonne France 
Milk: Cow, unpasteurized
Rennet: Animal

Affinage: 2-4 weeks

Notes: Not exported to the US, but not too hard to find within Europe. Marginally smaller than the other well known true Brie; Brie de Meaux.

Thoughts: The real deal, this brie has it all. The paste melts at the slightest suggestion and still retains its goey texture with every bite. The flavor, smooth from start to finish, begins mild and creamy and builds gently to a grassy and mushroomy, rustic tang. The rind has a definite kick without being unpleasant at all, merely adding a layer of spice to the creamy paste. A sweet aftertaste finishes up this delight of a cheese. It is impossible to overstate the degree to which this Brie differers from the common "Brie" available in your typical supermarket aisle. I've seen with my very own eyes people who formerly were not fans of such cheeses repent from their past ways and fall in love with this French marvel. Buy a wheel, impress your friends; all you need is a goodly sized wedge and a hearty baguette for a taste of cheese nirvana. 

Caution

There are actually some producers of Brie in the US who do their best to meet the pasteurization requirements through a very gentle procedure, but while they can be very good and well worth trying I've yet to find one that matches the original. My advice? Start saving up for that plane ticket.    

Explorateur, it's Out Of This World!

The year was 1958 and the space race, launched the year before by the Russian Sputnik Satellite program, was already heating up. The American government was furiously working on the Explorer satellite program, the American people were building bomb shelters, the Russians were learning Spanish and working on their swimsuit tans, and somewhere in France a cheesemaker had the inspiration to capture the moment as only he knew how; he created an epic cheese. 

Explorateur, named either for the American space program or the space race itself depending on which side of the Atlantic you wake up on, was one of the first cheeses to be made under the "triple crème" designation. It earns this decadent title when full cream is added to the milk before the curdling process, the end result being a cheese with 70% or higher butterfat content per solid mass. The "per solid mass" bit is important as a lot of what makes up bries, even these triple crème or dessert bries, is whey, the watery product left behind when milk curdles. This means that what you're eating isn't actually 70% butterfat, but to be honest it tastes so good you probably wouldn't care even if it was.

Origin: Isle de France, France
Milk: Cow, pasteurized
Rennet: Animal
Affinage: 4-6 weeks
Notes: 70% butterfat wasn't enough, so they turned it to eleven and made Explorateur 75% butterfat. Forget about counting calories. Make your peace with God and dive in. 
Thoughts: The particular variety that I bought was on the aged side of its short life, but considering all of the soft French cheeses have to make that Atlantic crossing and then clear customs, I'll take what I can get. The good news is that, being a surface ripened cheese, Explorateur just continues to ripen right up until you cut into it, meaning mine was bursting with flavor when I brought it home. 75% butterfat translates roughly into the texture of ultra-dense cream cheese, but instead of a heavy and simple spread Explorateur delivers an experience that redefines decadent. The paste is milkier and sweeter than fresh goat cheese and just melts on the palate, simultaneously rich but airy. What sets this apart from the other dessert bries is how the flavor develops, and here I am thankful that I bought an older cheese. The nutty, mushroomy goodness that is so desirable in standard bries comes from out of nowhere and dominates the flavor briefly before the sweetness of the cream takes over again and persists into the aftertaste. The rind, a delicate blanket of scrumptious white mold, delivers an additional tangy kick in its old age but would be considerably tamer in the first weeks of the cheese's life. The key with pairing these (seriously) heavy hitters is cutting through the cream with champagne and some fresh fruit. Alternatively just call in sick from life and take a bath in the stuff. 


Caution
Bathing in cheese would be disgusting.

Disgustingly expensive. Just imagine how much wine you'd have to buy, and then you'd need a small produce section worth of fresh fruit, a half dozen baugettes, a gallon of fruit preserve, I mean we're looking at 4 figures easy. Try to get a deal on the baguettes.