Cheesecake

We tried, tried, tried to make this work with our liquid cheesecake—one of our mother recipes and one of my favorite things to eat and cook with—but the finished pie just wasn’t right. So we came up with this work-around. This filling is very deep in flavor and sweetness, only meant to be layered in a gooey brownie pie. Do not attempt to snack on it or use it in another recipe.

This cheesecake is a cross between a New York style and the creamier, no-bake versions. It is really good and really impressive looking (and really big). We usually save this for family parties since it serves twelve people, but if you are making it for your family, it can be refrigerated for four or five days or sliced, individually covered in plastic wrap, and frozen.

American cheesecake is to Italian cheesecake what slouching around the house in a sweatshirt and jeans is to stepping out on the town in a tailored Armani suit. When I stopped comparing Italian cheesecake to its comfy American cousin, I was finally won over. Made with ricotta cheese instead of pounds of cream cheese and sour cream, it’s lighter and leaner, and perfectly accompanied by fresh fruit compotes or colorful sauces. For best results, use whole-milk ricotta cheese. Or even better, seek out fresh ricotta from a local producer. And be sure to watch it carefully during baking, taking it out when it is just barely set.

This recipe uses canned pumpkin rather than home-cooked fresh pumpkin simply because the moisture content is consistent and no one wants to take any chances with a cheesecake after spending all that money on cream cheese. This is a fantastic holiday recipe, and as with regular cheesecakes, the secret to great results is to begin with all the ingredients at room temperature and to not overbeat the filling.

This blueberry topping can also be used over ice cream or yogurt.

I get raves when I make this cheesecake, and I’m sure you will, too.

My favorite thing about cheesecake is the texture. I like a dry, dense New York–style cheesecake over a light, creamy one. By using goat cheese in addition to cream cheese, this recipe gives me a fabulous texture that’s slightly crumbly, a bit tangy, and has just the perfect hint of sweetness. Add to that a spectacularly spiced crust, and an old classic is totally new and exciting again!

There is a plum tree on Interstate Highway 35 in Austin, Texas. My uncle Jon keeps an eye on this poor little tree growing in the median. After its showy blooms fade he watches for the red plums. When they look ripe he pulls over with his hazards blinking and picks every last plum and brings them home to make jelly.

Despite the apricot topping, this is a savory dish, not a dessert, and it’s a knockout addition to an appetizer buffet. Be sure to pat the bell peppers dry with paper towels and don’t chop them too fine or they will turn the cheese filling pink. Note that the pan size is a bit unusual so make sure you have the right one before you start the recipe.

Blending Fair Trade coffee with Fair Trade cocoa allows us to support those who serve the world coffee and chocolate. It also helps us celebrate the classic European flavor combination of coffee and chocolate, mixed here as you might find them in an Italian café, with tangy mascarpone cheese and lemon. To make the cookie crumbs for the crust, see the recipe for Chocolate Sugar Dough (page 132) or buy plain cookies (like Pepperidge Farm Chocolate Chessman). Toss about twenty cookies of either type in the blender, pulse two or three times, and you will have dark chocolate cookie crumbs. You’ll need a cheesecake or springform pan, and most grocery store versions of this work fine. When the cake is baked and chilled, release the latch, slice, and serve. Be sure to clean your knife with a warm wet towel for each slice.

No large sign—just a plaque next to a simple security button—tells you that this is the gate to a simple building housing the Cercle Bernard Lazare. The center was named in memory of Bernard Lazare, who, during the Dreyfus Affair, was a left-wing literary critic, anarchist, Zionist, and newspaper editor. He bravely defended Captain Dreyfus, and won over Jewish artists such as Camille Pissarro to the cause. The center sponsors Jewish cultural events, choosing not to advertise its location because of previous anti-Semitic attacks. When I entered this very bare-boned building, it was full of activity. Jeanine Franier came out of the kitchen to greet me, bringing along a waft of the delicious aromas from her oven. Every Thursday, before the center’s weekly lectures, she cooks. She believes that people listen to lecturers more attentively if they know a little food will be served. Regardless of what her staff cooks as a main course, this cheesecake from her Polish past is served for dessert. It has become an integral part of the lectures, and was published in the Cercle’s cookbook, called Quand Nos Boubés Font la Cuisine (When Grandmothers Cook), which she wrote in part as a fund-raising device, in part as a way of preserving a culture that is rapidly being forgotten. The cheesecake reminds me of many I ate all over France, including the one at Finkelsztajn’s Delicatessen in Paris. It tastes clearly of its delicate component parts, unlike the creamy block of cheesecake with a graham-cracker crust we find in the United States.

Long, slow baking in the convection oven produces a beautiful cake, one that has a silky texture. A bit of flour in the mixture makes the cake easier to cut. This makes a large cheesecake, ideal for a party. Top it with fresh berries in season or use one of the variations below.

Combining bittersweet chocolate and cocoa powder intensifies the chocolaty essence of this cheesecake to the nth degree. Silken tofu brings a delicate creaminess to the filling while also taking the place of eggs by acting as a binding agent.

The difference between fresh and commercially prepared ricotta is proven dramatically with this cheesecake. Made with the commercial product, it tastes bland and somewhat grainy. When prepared with fresh ricotta, however, the cake dissolves creamily on the tongue and the ricotta's delicate sweetness shines through clean and true. To further emphasize the ricotta, we keep the other flavors to a minimum—just a smidgen of cinnamon, lemon zest, and vanilla is all you need.

The airy ricotta filling—with chocolate chips and flecks of candied orange peel speckled throughout—makes for a perfect marriage of Italian and American.