Kissed all over and spanked well in a hot oven, she puffs up and trembles all over, reminding me that she is indeed the finest goddess of all desserts. Cheesecake. She makes me sin in a way no one has ever sinned before. If it was not for this midnight love, I wouldn't have known how to survive. Dear reader, do not laugh – this is way too serious to be just a passing affair. I love her, I do.
I am a night cat. I am not into sleeping so much, but when I do, I want it perfect. When it doesn’t happen to me, I get stressed like anybody does. And thus when I am stressed I resort to a lot of things like chewing on hair, cuticles or gum. Or pole dancing on my tripod. Maybe taking one hour baths where I reenact scenes from Psycho. Or reaching for that stress relief massage cream. Or some filthy midnight baking. I should have taken a hint from my kitchen which was in an indescribable mess, and gone back to pole dancing. But I decided to bury myself alive in a delightful chocolate cheesecake and let her take my stress away. I did not care about my sleep anymore; I would have the warmth of my cheesecake.
3 hours later, I am sitting in my clean kitchen. The dishes are done. My chocolate cheesecake is in the oven. I slather on my Appletini body drink and just sit back and dig out skeletons of cheesecakes from ages ago. A few more minutes and she comes out with that perfect satin finish that always melts my heart. She smells of dew-drop mornings – maybe if mornings came in chocolate. I accomplish two tasks at one go. 1) Stress relief midnight baking. 2) Launch of my little journey with cheesecakes. Applause!
So, chocolate glaze on cheesecake for the brother. Cheesecake as it is for me. He gulps down the slice I gave him with some extra huge swirls of whipped cream.‘No more cheesecakes for me, please!’ he says. I do understand. For some, it's tough to fall in love. Oh dear goodness, my boy. The things that you are missing.
To let you know, I do my cheesecakes without a water bath. Thus, they wouldn't be as creamy as they would turn up in a bain marie. She's still a smooth, perfectly cooked and definitely tasty cheesecake. When it comes to the cracks, I do not want you to think I might be just getting lucky. Some flour or corn starch added in helps with the cracks, but will not up the creaminess. Proper temperature control will ensure a no-crack, yet creamy cheesecake. I like mine a tad firm, still smooth on the tongue. It’s just each and everyone’s taste. Keep your mental clock on, you should get it right. That does mean no to naps. I do enjoy some disco. As we go along this journey, I will take you through its many textures.
I have plenty of childhood memories associated with cheesecake but in a very – what should I call it – subconscious way? It is associated with my mother’s bread pudding which used to haunt me every time she did not bake it. One year, then two years, three years – it was never baked again for some reason. I grew up, saw myself graduate and get a job. Get my heart taken. Then broken. Somewhere along the way, I had my first slice of an amazing baked New York style cheesecake and I got my first taste of food induced nostalgia. In a strange way it had those undertones of the baked bread pudding which my mother made. After more than 10 years, it opened in me, a torrent of emotions I found difficult to contain.
So it all starts right here.
Ouch, mister sensitive tooth, I know you are in there. But I have my shoes buckled!
To make my journey a little trippier, I'll be jiving with disco legends and, will be sharing each of them as my Cheesecake Song for every post. Many of them could be extremely cheesy for some of yours' liking!
Today: The Jacksons' version of Mick Jackson's 1978 song called Blame it on the Boogie.