Cherry-Brandy Baked Brie

September. Fall in the new house. The first fall with a yard, which means the first fall with leaves, which means the first fall with raking. I did not anticipate the volume of leaves a Craftsman bungalow in Bay View produces. The yard is small but the trees are old and enthusiastic and by mid-September the entire lawn was buried under a carpet of gold and red that was beautiful for approximately one day and then became a chore. I raked for two hours. Tom drove by, saw me raking, stopped his truck, and said, "Wrong rake." He came back with the correct rake. Kowalski men have opinions about rakes.

Megan is back in school. Eighth year. Twenty-three kids. She walks to school now — the new house is close enough — and she comes home every afternoon with fall leaves in her hair and stories about the kids and the particular energy of a teacher who has been doing this long enough to know what she's doing and still loves it enough to care.

The Packers are back. Tom and I watch at the new house now — my TV, my couch, my beer. The couch is new (Tom's old couch was retired with honors and relocated to the garage where it serves as a workshop bench). The TV is bigger. The beer is the same: whatever I brewed that week, poured in the living room, while Tom sits in the recliner I bought for him. I bought Tom a recliner for my house. He said, "You didn't need to do that." I said, "You rewired my kitchen." He said, "That's different." It's not different. It's love, expressed through furniture and wiring. Same language. Different dialect.

Made a pot of bigos — first fall bigos in the new kitchen. Six burners. The stew simmered on one while I made pierogi on two others and a pot of soup on a fourth. Four burners working simultaneously. The apartment kitchen never allowed this. This kitchen allows everything. I am alive.

The bigos had the back-left burner. The pierogi water was on the front-right. Soup on the front-left. I was not giving up a fourth burner for an appetizer — not on a four-burner day, not in this kitchen. But Tom was in the recliner, the Packers were kicking off, and the new house deserved something worth setting out on the coffee table. Cherry-Brandy Baked Brie: oven-only, out of the way, and exactly the kind of warm, slightly fancy, completely unfussy thing that fit the afternoon perfectly.

Prep Time: 10 min | Cook Time: 15 min | Total Time: 25 min | Servings: 8

Ingredients

1 round (8 oz) Brie cheese
1/3 cup cherry preserves or cherry jam
2 tablespoons brandy
1/4 cup dried tart cherries
2 tablespoons brown sugar
1/4 teaspoon cinnamon
1/8 teaspoon black pepper
1 tablespoon unsalted butter
Sliced baguette, crackers, or apple slices, for serving

Instructions

Heat the oven. Preheat oven to 350°F. Line a small baking dish or oven-safe skillet with parchment paper.
Prepare the Brie. Place the Brie round in the prepared dish. Using a sharp knife, score the top rind in a crosshatch pattern, cutting just through the rind without going deep into the cheese.
Make the cherry-brandy topping. In a small saucepan over medium heat, melt the butter. Add the cherry preserves, dried cherries, brandy, brown sugar, cinnamon, and black pepper. Stir and cook for 2—3 minutes until the mixture is slightly thickened and the brandy has mellowed. Remove from heat.
Top and bake. Spoon the cherry-brandy mixture evenly over the top of the scored Brie. Transfer the dish to the oven and bake for 12—15 minutes, until the cheese is visibly soft and beginning to ooze at the edges.
Rest and serve. Remove from the oven and let rest for 3—4 minutes — the cheese will be extremely hot inside. Serve immediately in the baking dish alongside sliced baguette, sturdy crackers, or crisp apple slices.

Nutrition (per serving)

Cherry-Brandy Baked Brie — What You Make When the Big Burners Are Already Taken