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Cheese Of The Week: Délice de Bourgogne

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Photo by Lisa Brenner / LAist
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It's time for a guided meditation. Imagine you are running slowly through a grassy meadow. You come upon a birthday cake. The cake is large and round and iced with thick, soft frosting. You wedge off a slice and realize you have no silverware. Running your finger across the side of the treat you create a long, narrow divot in the whipped landscape. You look closely and notice something strange. There's no cake in your cake. It's all frosting. Gazing at your dainty finger you realize you're not touching icing, you're touching cheese, Délice de Bourgogne, the softest, richest, triple-creamiest French freaking cheese you could ever hope to stick your mouth around. On the count of three you will awaken to a new reality; a reality where cheese is the new icing. 1, 2, 3, CLAP!

Meet Délice de Bourgogne. She is your new best friend. She is special not only for her many charms and flexible nature but also for her accessibility and price. Délice de Bourgogne lives, among other places, at Trader Joe's. But she wasn't born there. She's was born in France. A cow's milk cheese from the Burgundy region, this lux, buttery, "triple cream" product (meaning cream is twice added to the milk during the cheese-making process), has a nutty, earthy bite that's considerably milder than its sharp smell. Look for a bloomy white/yellow rind, and be sure to let your pal breathe on the counter, unwrapped at room temperature, for about 30 minutes before stabbing her death.

Lessons learned in this week's research: 1) Sour Granny's DO NOT jive with this cheese. Choose a sweeter apple or skip to the walnuts and dried fruit route. Salty garlic and parmesan Pita Chips also make a fine vehicle for consumption, as does a piece of raw broccoli. 2) If you forego vehicles altogether for the fingertip method detailed in the above meditation, there is a strong chance you will experience lost time and a resulting lack of portion control during the cheese-induced high, thus thrusting yourself into a gall bladder attack due to the 75%-ish fat content of your new, now devoured, best friend.