Why Brillat-Savarin Cheese Is the Baddest Mother of All Cheeses
There was a time—brief and regrettable—when I gave up cheese. I also gave up wine. This personal apocalypse lasted nearly two months.
Then I realized: life is too painful and boring without real cheese and great wine.
No great story ever started with, “So, I had a salad…”
I lifted my self-imposed ban. I mean, Nigella Lawson looks fabulous and she basically lives on cheese, wine, meat, and chocolate.
Several years ago, I was traipsing around a delightful French village—well, a mock-French village outside of Raleigh, North Carolina—with my sister.
We spent the day wine tasting, inhaling crêpes, people-watching, drinking more wine… and then remembered eight people were coming over for dinner that night.
We panic-drove to Trader Joe’s.
Before we went in, my sister asked, “Should we serve a cheese plate?”
“Do you want a million dollars?” I answered.
“Well, yeah.”
“Then don’t ask dumb questions.”
What dinner party is complete without a cheese course? Not ours.
Now, you know I’m not about to trot out a sad square of cheddar or one of those disturbing cheese balls with nuts. I mean, really?
Suddenly fate intervened. My sister pointed across the parking lot—there it was: a fabulous cheese shop just waiting for us.
This wasn’t any ordinary cheese shop. Orrman’s Cheese Shop in Raleigh is straight out of Montreal or Paris. The charming southern couple who own it treated us like the royalty we delusionally believe we are.
I asked the cheesemonger for something like Brie—but better. I wanted oozing, pungent, rich, and delicious.
He looked at me thoughtfully. “Come with me.”
Yes, a man who takes charge. I respect that.
He brought out a small wheel of Brillat-Savarin—similar to Brie, but taller.
The rind looked like fondant icing gone rogue. It reminded me of Miss Havisham in her tattered wedding dress—and the cheese, her long-dead wedding cake.
Like her, I’m always waiting for my next great cheese.
“This is Brillat-Savarin,” he said.
“I don’t know… is it like Brie? I want more.”
“Just wait. You’ll see.”
He sliced into it and handed me a wedge of oozy, decadent glory on parchment. I took one bite.
Brillat-Savarin is named after famed French gastronome Jean Anthelme Brillat-Savarin, who famously said, “Tell me what you eat, and I will tell you what you are.”If you eat this cheese, I’ll tell you: you’re the smartest person in the room.
How Does Brillat-Savarin Cheese Taste?
It’s creamy with undertones of chanterelle mushrooms, lemon, minerals, and chalk. Unlike other bloomy cheeses, it has almost no ammonia on the nose.
Brillat-Savarin is made in the Île-de-France and was first created in the 1930s by Henri Androuët. It’s a triple crème, cave-ripened cheese with a glorious 75% butterfat content.
Yes. Seventy-five percent.
The bloomy white rind tastes like umami frosting. I savored my sample like a junkie returning to the source. I asked for another taste. He just nodded.
“You like it, don’t you?”
“I think I may have fallen in love.”
He smiled. Evil genius. Shame on him.
I left with half a pound.
Brillat-Savarin + The Wines Worthy of Her Drama
1. Champagne (Brut or Extra Brut)
The obvious choice, but sometimes clichés are right. Brillat is basically drinking heavy cream out of a goblet, and Champagne cuts through it like a sabre. Think Ruinart Blanc de Blancs or Piper-Heidsieck Brut.
2. Chablis (Chardonnay, Burgundy)
Mineral, zippy, nervy. Chablis doesn’t try to compete, it just cleanses the stage so Brillat can keep performing.
3. Sancerre (Sauvignon Blanc, Loire Valley)
Bright, citrusy, with a little grassy bite. It’s the wine equivalent of telling your rich friend to hydrate.
4. Gewürztraminer (Alsace)
Floral, exotic, and a little flirty. The lychee and spice vibe plays beautifully with all that lush cream. Think of it as Brillat’s vacation fling.
5. Beaujolais Cru (like Morgon or Fleurie)
Juicy, light, and red-fruited. Gamay has enough acidity to tango with Brillat without turning it into a fistfight.
Put simply: Champagne is the main character, Chablis is the chic sidekick, Sancerre is the palate cleanser, Gewürz is the messy affair, and Beaujolais is the charming boy next door.
Fun Fact: Brillat-Savarin Was Also a Diet Guru?
Brillat-Savarin (the man, not the cheese) is considered the father of the low-carb diet. He blamed sugar and white flour for obesity and advocated for protein-rich foods.
See? I knew cheese would save us.
That night, we served cheese and champagne for dessert—like the French. And if anyone had the nerve to complain, we had triple-fudge brownies for the traditionalists.
PSA: Want to serve your own over-the-top, French-worthy cheese course like the dairy queen you are? I wrote a whole guide that will make you look like you inherited a vineyard and a French grandmother.
👉 Click here to read How to Serve a Cheese Course Like a French Heiress
Bubbles, Brie’s hotter cousin, and absolutely no sad crackers allowed.
FAQs
Q: What is Brillat-Savarin cheese?
It’s a triple-crème French cheese named after a guy who thought you are what you eat. And if you eat this cheese, you are wealthy, powerful, and probably lactose-tolerant.
Q: What does Brillat-Savarin taste like?
Like butter, mushrooms, and heaven had a lovechild. Creamy, slightly tangy, with a bloomy rind that tastes like umami frosting. Brie is jealous.
Q: How is Brillat-Savarin different from Brie?
It’s richer. It’s creamier. It has a higher butterfat content (75%, you dairy aristocrat). It’s basically Brie with a trust fund and better skincare.
Q: Where can I buy Brillat-Savarin?
Look for it at specialty cheese shops, high-end grocers, or anywhere that sells cheese by the pound and not in a plastic tube. If they don’t carry it—move.
Q: What wine pairs best with Brillat-Savarin?
Sparkling wine, hands down. Champagne if you’re celebrating. Prosecco if you’re pretending. Either way, the bubbles balance the richness like magic.
