'Happy Birthday, Eleanor! Cheesecake,' or, Chocolate Swirl Cheesecake

If Eleanor was still alive, today would be her 95th birthday!* Over the last few months, I've learned a bit about Eleanor and what made her tick, and so, in her honour, November's cheesecake is the first non-plain cheesecake I've made from the box. To me, making a chocolate cheesecake instead of the plain ones of the last nine months was an excitement I don't think anyone who hasn't made one cheesecake a month every month for nearly a year can understand. But I recognise that it may not be the best honour for Eleanor, who, by all accounts preferred plain cheesecake to nearly any other dessert. Nevertheless, I think she would appreciate the effort... even if she didn't understand why I started this project in the first place. I don't know how Eleanor liked to celebrate her birthday, but I can imagine that most years it involved Bingo, a cheesecake, and a lot of time with her friends... and let's be real, that sounds like a pretty great birthday to me.

Grandparents are a rare breed-- when they become parents (and then grandparents), they give up so much of themselves in favour of their children and grandchildren, and it always strikes me how much of that involves giving up their own birthday celebrations. I can't even count the number of photos that exist of me sitting on the lap of one of my grandmother's, helping them blow out their birthday candles, stealing their thunder when I was still tiny. It's not a unique thing: we all do it when a child comes into our lives. We share our birthdays, we share Christmas, we share the holidays-- it's just what we do. But I just turned 30, and, selfishly, I still love having my own birthday. So the older I get, the more I respect that Eleanor shared her birthday with all of us, but still managed to have her own parties, her own celebration, and her own vibrant life, even as a grandmother. She was a strong, brave woman, and I hope that when I'm 95, I'll have inherited some of that spunk.

We're ten months into the Cheesecake Saga, and though I originally counted 13 cheesecakes in the box, I can only find one more recipe now, so maybe I miscounted and perhaps we're closer to the end than I thought! But regardless, here's to Eleanor, and the first cheesecake I've made that came out of the oven without a single crack in it. I think she was probably looking down from heaven and giving my cheesecake just the right amount of je ne sais quoi that it needed... or maybe I'm just finally learning what I'm doing. This one is a bit of a pain-- it involves the food processor (to grind the crumbs for the crust), the mixer (to blend the filling), and then a whole separate bowl (to whisk together the chocolate layer). But somehow, despite all that, it seemed to go faster than the last few and much smoother than my early iterations.

If you've been debating making one of these cheesecakes because you're on the fence about plain ol' cheesecake, then this one is at your service. Creamy and chocolate-y without being overly sweet or heavy, it's straightforward and gorgeous, so it's perfect for taking to a holiday party, making for yourself, or (if you can bear to part with it) eating on Thanksgiving. AND if you HAVE been making plain cheesecakes along with me, then take note that this one doesn't require beating any egg whites OR even separating any eggs (we take our gratitude where we can get it in the House of The Recipe Box Project).

*You may be noticing a theme here, which is that in the month of November, my family has a lot of birthdays: mine, then my mom's, then Eleanor's, then my grandfather's-- all one week apart each. Weird, right?

The verdict:

5 spoons out of five. It's swirly, pretty, smooth and fluffy, and with just enough chocolate to make it exciting.

The recipe:

Chocolate Swirl Cheesecake

the directions:

Preheat oven to 165C/325F.
Combine crumbs, 2 tbsp sugar, and melted butter and pat into the bottom and up the sides of a springform pan, then set aside.
In a microwave, slowly melt chocolate chips with ½ c sugar, stirring frequently until melted and smooth, then set aside.
In the bowl of a mixer, beat cream cheese until light and fluffy.
Gradually add ¾ c sugar, beating until smooth.
Mix in sour cream and vanilla.
Add eggs, one at a time, beating well after each addition.
Divide batter in half and stir melted chocolate into one half, leaving remaining half plain.
Pour chocolate batter into prepared pan, then gently (and as slowly as possible), pour plain batter on top, then use the tip of a knife to marble the cheesecake.
Bake for 35 minutes until just set, then leave it in the oven with the door slightly open until cooled to room temperature.

the ingredients:

1 ¼ c rich tea biscuit crumbs
2 tbsp + 1 ¼ c sugar, divided
¼ c butter, melted
1 c semi-sweet chocolate chips
2 c cream cheese
½ c sour cream
1 tsp vanilla
4 eggs

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. 

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

Inside Out Cheesecake, or, Thick-Crust, Perfect Cheesecake

If you're just tuning in, the Cheesecake Saga is an ongoing monthly project here on the blog, and in my kitchen. When I emptied out Eleanor's recipe box to sort through her recipes, it became immediately apparent that she had over a dozen recipes for plain cheesecake.

Thinking that was far too many recipes for plain boring cheesecake, I did some research and found that, unanimously, those who knew Eleanor best told me that cheesecake was her favourite dessert. In honour of Eleanor's favourites (and to avoid getting stuck making a dozen cheesecakes at the end of the Recipe Box Project), I decided I'd make one cheesecake each month. This cheesecake is number 8, and so far we've had some major flops as well as a few resounding successes.

I know you wouldn't think it based on the recipes I post here, but we honestly don't eat that many sweets in this house. I make a lot of desserts, but they usually go to friends or work or straight into the freezer after I have enough tastes to write a post about them. But the cheesecakes? Well, you can't freeze a cheesecake, you can't cut a cheesecake recipe in half (though that hasn't stopped me from trying), and try as you might, you can't preserve a cheesecake for more than a week in the fridge.

So what you need is a cheesecake test panel. Friends (like the Golden Girls), co-workers, or really anyone you can find who is willing to eat a slice of cheesecake as often as you make them. Lately all of mine have been going into work with Judson, who has an easier commute (and hungrier coworkers) than I do. This has an unexpected bonus in that they've tasted almost all of the cheesecakes I've made lately, so not only do they know which ones are intrinsically delicious, but they've also made up a scale for the best ones. (I don't think any of them would tell me if one of them was terrible, but I do enjoy the 'BEST ONE YET!' commentary I occasionally get).

Let's be honest. You could bake this crust up by itself and i'd happily eat it.

Let's be honest. You could bake this crust up by itself and i'd happily eat it.

Over the last few months I've been afraid that I was so burned out on cheesecakes that I wouldn't be able to enjoy one more single slice for the rest of my life... but then this one came along, and I was devastated that I hadn't saved more than one slice for myself. You have to make this cheesecake. Even if you're on the fence about cheesecake in general, this will change your mind. The filling is custardy and sweet without being overly heavy, and the extra thick crust (on the top AND bottom!) makes it more like a crumble than a cheesecake. Plus, the inclusion of crushed pecans in the crust makes it more complex than just a simple graham cracker number, and the crispness perfectly complements the with the soft, melt-in-your-mouth filling. If you've been waiting for a cheesecake to make from this saga, this is it. It's even overshadowed my previous favourite, the slightly easier but much less interesting July cheesecake. Plus, the top crust covers up any bubbles or cracks that the top of your cheesecake acquires in the baking/cooling process, so it even looks nice if you take it somewhere (and, let's be real, you're not going to eat that entire thing yourself!).

There's a couple of substitutions included in the recipe as written below, because I don't think pot cheese still exists (though I would love to try to strain some cheese through a sieve), and I can't find zweiback anywhere in this country (and when I asked, I got crazy looks at the regular grocery store AND the Polish grocery store).

You can find the first seven (!) cheesecakes in the Index here, and you can find my very favourite one here.

The verdict:

5 spoons out of five. If you've been waiting for a foolproof, delicious, unique cheesecake to make from this project, bake this one, stat. Eleanor wouldn't steer you wrong, and neither, obviously, would I.

The recipe:

Thick-Crust, Perfect Cheesecake

the directions:
crust:

Beat egg white until stiff and set aside.
Whiz cookie crumbs in the food processor until mostly smooth.
Add nuts and pulse twice more just until broken up.
In a medium bowl, mix cookie/nut mixture with sugar and melted butter.
Separate half of the crust mixture and reserve for the upper crust.
To the remaining half, add the beaten egg white and spread in the bottom of a springform pan.


filling:

Preheat oven to 176C/350F.
Beat egg whites until very stiff.
Set aside and beat all other ingredients until very smooth.
Add egg whites and fold together gently (mixture will be very bubbly and airy).
Pour into prepared crust, sprinkle the other half of the crust mixture over the filling gently (some will sink, so just sprinkle evenly and gently).
Bake 45 minutes until the middle is just set, then turn off oven, leave the door cracked and allow to cool for 60 minutes in the oven.

the ingredients:
the crust:

1 ½ c rich tea or zwieback crumbs
½ c pecans, coarsely chopped
½ c sugar
½ c butter, melted
1 egg white

 

the filling:

1 ½ c sugar
16 oz mascarpone
16 oz cream cheese
1 c heavy cream
2 ½ tbsp flour
1 tsp salt
1 tsp vanilla
7 eggs, separated