Basque Cheesecake
My first swing at this, photo credit: Michael & Charlotte, who have been mentioned on this blog more times than I can count.
Every time I’ve settled in to write for the last weeks, something came up: an ice storm, legal proceedings, out-of-town visitors, my 32nd birthday, new work obligations, travel, etc., etc., and I felt incredibly guilty whenever someone asked me when I’d have a new recipe up. It’s flattering to know people are interested, but I also have a lot on my literal and proverbial plate right now, and I just…couldn’t do it. I had some really bad days, some really good days, and some really weird days in the last month, and I did not have the bandwidth. I did some cooking, but in at least five instances, I forgot to take photos and didn’t want to eat the exact same thing again just to get photos for the Domestic Demigoddess.
Then, per Vatican edict, we had to have the twice-yearly “SKIP TO THE GODDAMNED RECIPE” Twitter discourse and I thought to myself, “I deserve a treat.”
In this case, the “treat” is just behaving as if my little blog which maybe 40 people read is the thing I intended it to be: a creative exercise in self-healing (sorry, sorry, I know, gag me) via cooking a very hot person’s recipes. If I want to write three thousand words up top about my impending divorce, I’m gonna. My dog’s UTI? That, too (he’s fine). A nice little vignette about the first signs of spring as evidenced by the presence of robins and that slightly rotten smell that worms emit when it’s finally warm enough for them to make themselves known? You’re absolutely right, I will. You can skip to the recipe if you want, but a lot of food writers are really, really good writers and you’re missing out. It’s up to you as to whether or not you consider me one of them, but I’m not going to argue the merits of Mimi Sheraton or Helen Rosner or MFK Fisher or Kat Kinsman with any of y’all.
Writing is, of course, for readers, but it’s also for the writer. I reject out of hand that creativity and suffering are inextricably linked, or that making art is inherently painful, or that all creative pursuits must be heartbreaking works of staggering genius. It does, though, take something out of you. It’s time-intensive! It’s detail work! Your laptop kinda strains your eyes!
When I was working in tech, I came to two realizations. The first was that I had maybe four hours of truly good work in me per day because technical writing is so detailed and you can only work in so granular a fashion for so long. The other was that my employer was getting my very best ideas and I had nothing left for my own creative pursuits after I went home. That’s when I started getting up early to work on my novel, my blog, my editorial concerns, and when stopped taking meetings or checking email before one p.m.*
Writing is a discipline and I try hard to write something each day, but sometimes, it’s just not happening. My personal life for the last little bit led me to set my book aside and quit journaling. I told my therapist in Kansas City I was mostly blacked out day to day and didn’t want a written record to consult later. As a result, I just got out of the habit of being creative, which is at the center of my self-perception.
This little break from writing also gave me an opportunity to consider my creative process and life. I made my annual vision board (shut up). I did a life audit. I reread The Artist’s Way after chancing upon it on the best-sellers’ shelf at a bookshop when I was in New York for work last week. If you’re at all familiar with Julia Cameron’s work, you know the centerpiece of her method is to…just do it. Even if it doesn’t feel great. Even if you have a ton going on. Even if you’re kinda beat. It’s not unlike exercise: sounds terrible when someone suggests it, and yet you always feel better afterward.
In the last three weeks, I have cooked a great many things but I have made this cheesecake three times. I cannot stop making it. It is gluten-free and allergy-friendly. It looks so impressive and gorgeous and chic, and yet it takes about five entire minutes to prepare. I’ve had the chance to iterate a little, and due to the ongoing cream cheese crisis, I have gotten to play around with it. The Whole Foods in Manhattan that I frequent didn’t? have? any? And I had already promised my beautiful friend Helena this cheesecake? So I got labneh.
HOLY SHIT. It’s amazing. I do not give a good goddamn about this (it’s cheesecake), but it’s also way higher in protein and way lower in calories than cream cheese. I cannot recommend this enough. It is ideal.
I also messed around with the topping. Nigella suggests this cool licorice drizzle atop the whole thing, but a lot of Americans don’t have an inborn love of anise-y flavors, so I experimented. The first time, I used some fudge sauce my hosts had on hand. The second time, I used a little Cocktail and Sons king cake syrup and a quick grating of orange zest. On the third, I got some fig preserves and thinned those out with a little off-dry wine and some water. You do you, but I’ll explain how to do that last one below.
The one thing I want to tell you is this: this is a day-of dessert. It’s delicious as leftovers, but it won’t be as lovely and the nutty-brown goodness at the top doesn’t have the nice texture it has. Make it in the morning for an evening thing.
And this, lovers, is why you read the headnotes. You’d never know about the labneh.
*to be clear, I work the whole day, but you don’t have to be at peak performance to respond “thanks!” to 100 emails or sit on a quarterly earnings call on mute.
Basque Cheesecake
adapted from Cook, Eat, Repeat
serves eight
Ingredients:
22oz/600g labneh or full-fat cream cheese at room temperature
3/4 cup + 2 tablespoons/175g caster sugar
3 large eggs at room temperature
1 1/4 cups/300mL sour cream at room temperature
one or two very good pinches fine sea salt
2 tablespoons/25g cornstarch
To Do:
Get all your ingredients together and let them come to room temperature. This is absolutely essential and there is a reason I have repeated it several times. Preheat your oven to about 400F/205C. Your oven needs to be quite hot, so if you suspect your oven runs a little cool, adjust the temperature up until it is actually 400.
Take two pieces of parchment paper and make a little sling inside an eight-inch springform pan. What I mean by that is make them in a T-shape and kinda push it down into the pan. Basically, you just don’t want there to be parts of the pan that the batter will touch.
In a stand mixer with the paddle attachment, cream the sugar and labneh. This will be about three minutes on a medium setting. One at a time, add the eggs with the mixer running. If you need to, stop it a couple times to scrape the bowl down a little with a spatula. Again, with the mixer running, add the sour cream and a little salt (maybe 1/4 teaspoon total). Turn it off, add the cornstarch (unless you LOVE getting a face full of cornstarch), then beat it for another minute or two or until everything is integrated.
With absolute and unshakable faith in yourself, pour the batter into the parchment-lined springform pan, using your spatula to get the last dribs and drabs in. Put the pan in the oven and bake for about 50-55 minutes. The top should be, in different places, buttercup yellow, ecru, chestnut brown, toasty brown, and even mahogany here and there
Take it out of the oven and let it cool on a wire rack until totally, completely cool. It will smell incredibly and be indescribably beautiful, but you must be very strong. Let it sit for at least three hours and up to maybe eight, then let slip the iron confines and peel back the parchment paper. Slice and serve with topping of your choice; a suggestion follows.
Jammy Topping:
Take two tablepoons of nice jam, about a tablespoon of wine (I like something off-dry, but whatever is fine), and about a tablespoon of water and whisk in a small pot on medium heat. Bring to a quick boil then remove from heat. Spoon over each slice.