Spooky, Scary Cheesecake, or, Soft-Crust, Super-Easy Cheesecake

Either I've become an expert cheesecake maker (unlikely) or this recipe is one of the easier cheesecakes I've made from the box so far. Either way, you should probably stop what you're doing and make this soon.

When I was a kid (and a teenager) I loved cheesecake. (Probably because I hadn't made one a month for the better part of a year, but that's neither here nor there). My dad loved to cook, so every year during my teen years, he'd make me a cheesecake for my birthday, using a recipe he claimed to have gotten from Eleanor (I now have my doubts about that). The year I turned sixteen, he ran out of graham crackers to make the crust so he decided to make it with Golden Grahams-- a honey-graham flavoured breakfast cereal available in the US (I view this as proof that I come by my improvisational cooking skills legitimately). Anyway, the blender he was using to grind the Golden Grahams wasn't sturdy enough to grind them, so he did what any normal Hurm man would do in the situation (and what no Hurm woman would ever even consider) and picked up the entire blender, base and all, and started shaking it while it was running.

Do I even need to tell you that this ended badly?

Well, I will. Because it did. The entire kitchen was covered in Golden Graham crumbs, from the pot rack that hung from the ceiling to the hood of the stove, to the stovetop itself, there were honey-graham crumbs everywhere. I don't remember who ended up cleaning up the mess (or how we got it sorted before my birthday party started), but it must have happened because one of the things I remember from that party is the fact that, as it turns out, Golden Grahams make an amazing pie crust. Nowadays I can't pop to the store for Golden Grahams anymore, and even if I could, I wouldn't use them in pie crusts as even now they remain my favourite breakfast cereal.

The night of the exploding blender was also the night that I realised why I didn't like my dad's cheesecakes, and the night I finally worked up the nerve to tell him that I didn't like them. As it turns out, my dad had always been making my birthday cheesecakes 'the Northern way.' The Northern way, to him, meant pouring a thin layer of sour cream cut with milk over the top of the cooked cheesecake, and I hated it. However, since cheesecakes are just shades of white, I never realised that the sour cream layer was the part I disliked, until that night when he was about to pour it on. 'WAIT!' I shrieked. 'Do we havvvvvvve to add that?' I questioned, in the way only a teenager can. My dad, confused about my reaction, poured the sour cream back into the container and the cheesecake was served bare (but probably topped with cherry pie filling, because we weren't a couple of heathens). And it was delicious.

Good luck reading that. 

Up until this cheesecake, this has been my only experience with sour-cream-topped cheesecakes, so I kind of suspected my dad had made the entire thing up because pouring sour cream over a cheesecake is a surefire way to cover up any cracks in the top of the cheesecake while also masking any brown spots that cooked faster than other areas. (But, if you're like me, you might not like the way it tastes.) This cheesecake recipe, however, includes a thin layer of sour cream on top, and it's delicious. Maybe because it's cut with vanilla and sugar, or maybe just because the cheesecake itself is a lot heavier on the crust than it is on the filling, but it's delicious. So don't let the sour cream layer freak you out-- it's the perfect contrast to the crispy, buttery crust and the creamy, sweet filling.

Make this cheesecake for the Halloween party you RSVPed for but still don't have a costume for, and everyone will love you for it. Bonus? You don't even need a springform pan!

The verdict:

4 spoons out of five. This is the first cheesecake I've made that had not a single crack in the top of it, so it's a great 'starter' cheesecake if you've never made one. Plus, it doesn't even require any special tools: you can easily mix it by hand and bake it in a regular pan. It's also a pretty basic cheesecake-- there's no strong cream cheese flavour and it's light and fluffy without being overly heavy or dense. 

 

the recipe:

Soft-Crust, Super-Easy Cheesecake

the directions:
crust:

Preheat oven to 170C/325F.
Stir together crumbs, butter, and sugar until well-blended.
Press into bottom and sides of a 6x9 or similar pan.
Set aside while you make the filling.

Filling:

Beat the cream cheese until smooth and fluffy.
Add one egg at a time, beating after each addition.
Add sugar and vanilla and mix until smooth.
Pour into prepared crust and bake for 30-40 minutes.
Let cool (cake may drop a little, but have no fear!).

Topping:

Preheat oven to 245C/475F (if your oven goes that high).
Beat together sour cream, sugar, and vanilla.
Spread over the cooled cake and bake for 5 minutes.

Note: The recipe says that this cheesecake freezes well, but I haven't tried it. If you do, let me know!

the ingredients:
the crust:

1 c graham crackers or Rich Tea biscuits, ground to fine crumbs
2 oz butter, melted
¼ c sugar

the filling:

12 oz cream cheese
2 eggs
½ c sugar
¾ t vanilla
 

the topping:

1 c sour cream
2 tbsp sugar
½ t vanilla

Byzantine Lamb

Here in the UK, daylight savings time ended over the weekend (or started? I don't know how DST works, but we fell back an hour), and now I am getting up during daylight hours but getting off work after work and so far that is not my favourite thing. This is my third Scottish autumn/winter, but I still haven't gotten used to how quickly the seasons change. Living this far north (Edinburgh is on the same latitude line as Alaska!) means that when winter comes, it comes on fast, with the days shrinking until they're only a few hours long. Conversely, it also means that the summer days are so long they seem endless... it's a nice tradeoff, once you get used to the short winter days. But the first few are always a brutal trade, and it doesn't help that the UK, for some reason, does time-changes on a different calendar than the rest of the world, meaning it happens two weeks before my birthday, instead of the weekend of my birthday, like in the US. So, with the time change comes my desire for warm, hearty meals that are still relatively healthy, and thus enters Byzantine Lamb.

As previously discussed last time I made a lamb recipe from the box, we're not really big lamb eaters in the Cowan house. Unless it comes in a curry or in Greek food, we generally stay away from lamb, but not really for any good reason other than the fact that lamb done badly is really bad, whereas most other meats done badly are still, well, edible. While living Stateside, it was easy to avoid lamb-- I don't remember the grocery stores selling it, and try though I might, I never found a decent Greek restaurant in the last few US cities I lived in. Here in Scotland, though, lamb is everywhere. It's always on the menu at restaurants, it has as much space devoted to it at the grocery store as beef does, and, in a country that boasts more sheep (6 million) than people (5 million), it's a pretty ubiquitous dish.

So I've been excited about this Byzantine Lamb recipe for awhile: I mean, it comes from Byzantium, so how could I not be stoked about this? Judson, too, was totally into it until I revealed that it involves a can of tomato soup... at which point I lost him until the dish was on the table and he tasted it and realised how delicious it was. Don't let the weird inclusion of a can of soup deter you: this meal is delicious, and it includes a ton of veggies I usually can't find uses for, like aubergines/eggplants and bell peppers. Plus, because of how long it cooks, you can clean up the entire kitchen before you actually sit down to the meal, and then have minimal clean-up after dinner. We really enjoyed this meal, surprisingly. It makes enough for a good amount of leftovers, but it reheats pretty well, so we didn't mind (though we didn't fight about them the way we did with last week's chili and cornbread).

You can spice it up with sriracha if you're more into that, or just have it plain if that's how you roll. Next time we make it, we're going to swap out the can of soup for a can of tomato passata, but it's still delicious with the soup, and I'd still recommend it. Plus, when was the last time you ate something Byzantine for dinner?

P.S. The reverse of this recipe includes a coupon that expired in 1971. The fine print on the coupon begins 'Dear Mr. Grocer....,' so if I learn nothing else from this recipe project, it's at least nice to know how far women have come since the days of the 1970s, when they weren't even allowed to be grocers.

The verdict:

3 spoons out of five. Swap the soup for a can of tomatoes as noted above, and you can definitely boost this to 4 spoons.

The recipe:

Byzantine Lamb

the directions:

Sprinkle the lamb with salt and pepper, then roast the lamb for 10 minutes at 200C/400F or until just barely cooked through, then set aside.
In a skillet, cook aubergines/eggplant and green pepper with garlic and thyme in butter until tender.
Add soup and lamb.
Bring to a boil, then stir in rice.
Cover and cook over low heat 10 minutes or until most of liquid is absorbed.
Drizzle with lemon juice and serve with fresh lemon slices.

Yields 4 hearty servings.

the ingredients:

2 c aubergine/eggplant, cubed, from about 1 ½ medium aubergines
1/3 c green bell pepper, chopped
1 clove garlic, minced
¼ tsp thyme (less if dried)
2 tbsp butter
1 can tomato soup
1 lb lamb, cut in strips
1 1/3 c rice
1 lemon, cut in slices

Chicken Casserole

Here is an awesome fact about my family: My mom was born the exact day Marty McFly goes back to in Back to the Future, and I was born on the exact day that he returns to the present. This is what that should tell you about me and my mom: my mom was 30 when I was born, our birthdays are a week apart (and coming up soon!), and we are awesome.

When I realised that yesterday was 'Back to the Future Day,' the date in Back to the Future II that Marty arrives at when he jumps into the future, I was stoked to be able to go see the movie in a real theatre. We got dinner at a local American restaurant with some friends and caught a late showing of the movie, and when we walked home at 11:30 last night, it was so mild I didn't even zip up my coat. I was so excited that we were having a mild day with no wind at all, that I drastically underdressed for work today, was freezing all day, and spent most of my waking hours pining for something as cosy and warming as this casserole was when I made it last week.

Originally I was putting off making this casserole until it got closer to the new year, because the recipe card that it's on reads 'here are a couple of recipes you will want to clip and save to start 1989 out right,' and I thought it was hilarious that the date is almost exactly 27 years in the past... but then, as often happens, I got hungry, and so we made the chicken casserole for dinner last week. Eleanor had left some pencilled in notes on this one because she apparently only ever made it as a half-recipe, so I followed her lead and cut the whole thing in half (not least because I don't have a single piece of crockery that could hold 2 entire chickens, even if they are cut up).*

Let's be honest: casseroles aren't a cool dish. They're not cool to make, they're definitely not cool to like, and they're even too uncool to serve to a dinner guest. But I still like them, especially ones like this that are hearty and warm, without leaving you feeling as though you just ate a brick after you finish your meal. And the older I get, the more I realise the benefits of a good casserole: All the dishes are washed before you sit down to eat! There're always leftovers! Said leftovers reheat like a charm! Bone-in chicken is so much cheaper than cutlets! The house smells amazing!

We ate it for dinner one night and then were both excited to reheat it the next evening. It's an easy dish to match with any vegetable that's in season, so we had it with a fig-and-green salad. It would go just as perfectly with a tray of roasted veggies, which would be easy to pop into the oven during the last half-hour of cooking.

*I laughed when I realised she had written the halved measurements next to every single ingredient, even the obvious ones like '1 can of soup,' where she crossed out the one and wrote '½' in the margin. I was mocking Eleanor in my head for this, until I remembered how many times I've cut a recipe in half mentally and forgotten to reduce one ingredient, ruining the entire meal. Clearly she was onto something. The version below is cut in half; it could easily and accurately be doubled to serve twice as many... if you have a dish big enough to cook it.

The verdict:

4 spoons out of five. It's delicious, it's warm, it's super easy, and if you're in for a sudden burst of Arctic weather like we were today, it should already be in your oven by now.

I made judson buy this le creuset for me last time we were in the US because it's a colour that's not sold in britain and then we had to carry it home on a plane and i regret nothing!

The recipe:

Chicken Casserole

the directions:

Preheat oven to 160C/325F and grease a large roasting pan.
Mix together can of soup, milk, and rice and pour into the roasting pan.
Lay chicken on top of rice mixture, then sprinkle the dry soup mix over the entire dish, pressing in a bit where necessary.
Cover and bake for 2 hours.
Uncover the dish and bake for an additional 15 minutes to allow it to brown on top.

Serves 4 heartily, or 6 petitely with side dishes.

the ingredients:

1 can cream of mushroom or cream of celery soup
1 ¼ cans milk
1 cup long-grain rice (we used a mixture of basmati and wild rice)
1 chicken, cut up and rubbed liberally with salt and pepper
1 package dry onion soup mix (if you live in the US where you can get Lipton, use it and pour some out for me. I haven't yet found a place that sells it over here, and I do miss cooking with it so much!)