If the right cheese curds from the right milk are at the right temperature, fungi become "the king of the mountain," says Dennis D'Amico, a food microbiologist at the University of Connecticut who studies cheese production. Under the correct conditions, mold spores thrive on proteins, fats, sugars and the remains of the original bacteria that turned the milk into cheese. As the mold spreads throughout the cheese and its exterior, it continues the transformation that the bacteria started.
So when human teeth finally sink in, they bite into a new set of even smaller active molecules. And if the cheese is blue cheese, where the bacteria P. roqueforti dwell deep inside, enjoying a slice means consuming living fungi in the middle of their own midday snack.
The flavors, smells and textures specific to each type of cheese are due to various combinations of fungi species. A Brie or Camembert, for example, requires at least four types of mold. One, G. candidum, produces a sulfur flavor and contributes to the creaminess of the cheese. Another, P. camemberti, blossoms into a distinct white rind. The symphony of mold makes the final texture and mushroomy, sweaty taste.
But while the concerto is beautiful, the identities of all the musicians remain mysterious.
Identifying all of the active fungi in a cheese is "an endless, endless rabbit hole," says [cheesemaker Benton] Brown. Most of the moldy cheeses we have today are happy accidents, D'Amico said, the details of which can only be understood with elaborate lab analyses.
Original Article at Scienceline.org
(Score: 3, Funny) by gidds on Wednesday February 15 2017, @01:49PM
Honey could be an even-more-literal example.
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