OMG a Recipe: Cheesecake Ice Cream to Soothe the Savage Computerbeast

I spent a whole Sunday afternoon reorganizing my music playlists. The best thing about getting a new computer is the most annoying thing: a clean slate. Especially with music, the way mp3s have gotten all tricksy-Hobbit with embedded DRMs and music playing software saying, "What playlists? You don't have any playlists. Please, buy this new Justin Bieber album - it's hotttttt!" Maybe there's easier ways to get around this First World Problem, but I did it The Hard Way, sifting through old stored music, re-compiling files in a single location versus spread out like computerized sneeze spittle. In short, my mindgrape was crushed and I needed some Ice Cream Non-Sexual Healing. Enter: Blackberry Cheesecake Ice Cream. Commence Moonwalking, as I finally got my Michael Jackson hits in the order I like them.

Cheesecake and berry ice cream - what's not to love? - Photo by Wasabi Prime

I keep saying, "This is the last ode to Summer... no, this is the last ode to Summer." I think this one might possibly be it, but don't be surprised if some summer squash posts randomly show up in the middle of November. The berry season is sweet, but agonizingly short, and with an equally short shelf life. For all the free blackberries you can pick on the roadside, you'll never eat all of them before they start getting mushy and slimy. Like raspberries, they're just too delicate and fleeting like the seasonal moment that bore them, hence the invention of jams and jellies. This seasonal conundrum applies equally to the wild red huckleberries that grow in bushy shrubs that tend to pop up from rotted tree stumps -- which we have an abundance of in the Northwest, including my backyard. The little red berries are pretty, but tart, and kind of an effort to pick, as even the largest ones never get bigger than a pea and they're delicate. But I try to gather at least a few cupfuls every season and then stare at them, wondering what the heck I'm going to do with them, since they're wicked tart. Last year, I made a sour jam from the berries and used it with beets on a really tasty savory tart. I picked even less berries this time, not enough to bake tarts with, but I thought, let's sweeten things up because I think they would look beautiful swirled in a cheesecake-flavored ice cream. (Music to play while making ice cream, for its meditative beat track: Spoon's "I Turn My Camera on")

Wild berry ice cream, and how a creepy LV window display made me think of the berries - Photos by Wasabi Prime

Brain, I like your way of thinking. Even if it is a bit of a one-sided conversation. One of the things I love best about cheesecake is how incredibly dense it is. Cheesecake, you are my density, if George McFly were awkwardly wooing a dessert. I wanted the ice cream base to be as rich as possible, without just being a sweetened lard bomb. I opted for half and half versus heavy cream, and used a brick of cream cheese to round out the richness, plus add that bit of sourness that you get with cheesecake. No eggs in this, there's plenty of fat to emulsify into a rich custard-like base. Just some sugar and all that went into the blender, to make sure everything was fully liquefied. I let the base chill in the fridge overnight and made a quick stovetop sugar-sweetened jam from the wild berries, straining out all the seeds and skins so that it would be a smooth jelly to swirl into the churned ice cream. That's really the trick to getting that pretty swirl, adding dollops of a fruit jam over the ice cream, swirling lightly, then layering with more of the churned ice cream. Let it freeze, fully set, and your ice cream scoop digging into those layers will make it look magical in your food blog-approved serving dish. (Music to play while taking annoyingly endless food photos: Duran Duran's "Girls on Film")

And guess what? It really tasted like a frozen cheesecake, minus the graham cracker crust. Will wonders never cease! I'm sure if I wanted to be more industrious, I'd have baked graham crackers from scratch, crumbled and made them into a streusel topping to finish the dish. But good Lord, man, I was mad for dessert. I was so in love with this that I pretty much finished off that whole batch in a week and wanted to make another one. By then the blackberries were in full swing, so I ran down the hill to the massive bramble that just lines this whole part of the street and picked about a quart's worth. They weren't particularly sweet. I had Indy with me and while she ate a few, she wasn't so excited about them so as to take the liberty of picking and eating them on her own. Which is a shame because, do you know how funny-cute it is to see a dog gingerly pick berries and eat them? (Music to play while picking berries with your fuzzy BFF against a summery, picturesque backdrop: Harry Connick Jr.'s "A Wink and a Smile")

Fresh-picked blackberries and a ghoulish vampire-like strained berry sauce - Photos by Wasabi Prime

I repeated the same steps of thrown-together ice cream base, including making a much larger batch of blackberry jam, probably more than what the ice cream could handle, but whatever. Everything chilled, ice cream was churned, blackberry jam was overly-swirled, and it patiently awaited the freezer's work while I faced my music organization conundrum. It felt like a wasted Sunday, like spending a whole day reorganizing sock drawers and alphabetizing your DVDs, but the drudgery was rewarded with a bowl of blackberry cheesecake ice cream and rocking out to a playlist that included They Might Be Giants, Ben Folds, Cake, The Beach Boys, Dead or Alive, Lily Allen and Stevie Wonder. (Music to listen to while writing a blog post: Nicola Conte's Bossa Per Due album on shuffle, because it's peppy and jazzy and I can't write when there's lyrics messing with my brain)

Frozen Cheesecake Ice Cream

Ingredients:
1 pint of half and half
1 8oz package of cream cheese, softened
1/2 cup sugar 

Reserve 1 cup of fruit jam or jelly - can be homemade or store-bought

Special tools/gear: blender and ice cream maker. 

Combine the half and half, cream cheese and sugar into the blender and blend until smooth and the cream cheese is fully incorporated into the liquid. Chill the ice cream base for a couple of hours or overnight. 

If you're making your own jam for the ice cream, strain out the seeds/skins of the cooked down fruit to give it a smooth consistency. Store bought jam is fine, since you don't need a lot of it to achieve the swirl pattern in the ice cream. You can even use chocolate sauce or caramel if you want to make it a chocolate or caramel cheesecake, you wild devil, you.

Follow the instructions on your ice cream maker. When the base is churned, put a third of the base in the final serving container -- I like a Pyrex loaf pan with a snap-top cover. Put a few spoonfuls of the jam on the ice cream and lightly swirl, then add another layer of the churned ice cream, and spoonfuls of jam and continue until everything is in the container. Seal that bad boy up and let it set up in the freezer for a few hours before serving. And yes, You're Welcome.

OMG a Recipe: Bourbon Whisky for Dessert

There's nothing wrong with a little hair o' the dog after a day in the saltmines of cubicle-land. There's also nothing wrong with a touch of sweetness at day's end. So let's put our hands together for making it a little less socially awkward to say you're having whiskey for dessert.

Who says you can't have whisky for dessert? - Photo by Wasabi Prime

We always have a bottle of Maker's Mark around the house. No, not stashed in the sock drawer or places where the late night ads ask a bunch of questions to determine if you have a problem or not. We keep it around the kitchen because it's as handy for sipping as it is for cooking. I add a little to the cheap vodka that's steeping vanilla beans for vanilla extract -- you can also draw from this to mix cocktails. I deglaze pans with a splash of it and some chicken broth, making a nice little sauce to go with some seared chicken paillards. It's a good bourbon whisky, more expensive than other brands, but the flavor is nice, and you don't need much to add its caramel, lightly smoky taste to things.

So of course I wanted to incorporate some liquor when I made a bourbon-themed dessert of ice cream and pie. Duh, who wouldn't? The pie was a basic apple pie, which I added pears in, just because I had them -- thanks, CSA box. The pie crust is, as always, Wasabi Mom's vinegar pastry crust. The filling was a basic apple pie -- about 2 or 3 pounds' worth of cored apples (and pears, in my case) sliced thin and tossed with a couple of teaspoons of ground cinnamon, a teaspoon of fresh nutmeg, a quarter cup of sugar, a tablespoon of flour to help absorb any excess fruit juices, and I saw this on a food show -- a dash of Angosturra bitters. A pie shop in NYC was being profiled (sorry, I can't remember their name!!) and they mentioned their use of bitters in their pie filling, to balance out the sweetness and give it a nice balance. Brilliant! I had to try it. For this pie filling, I also folded a bourbon caramel sauce with the seasoned fruit -- it added more volume and liquid to the mix, which I wasn't in love with, so I'd skip the caramel sauce in the filling or maybe drizzle the top with it. That part needs re-working, so I'm not listing details until I get something that's worth sharing, and it was likely just gilding the dessert-lily anyways, since I made ice cream to go with the pie.

There's always time for pie - Photos by Wasabi Prime

Bourbon in ice cream = Winning. I used my standby basic ice cream recipe, and added about a tablespoon or two of good maple syrup. And I mean the real stuff, not in the squeeze bottle shaped like a bad racial stereotype. I put a little less than a shot of whisky, so about an ounce, while the milk/sugar/vanilla/maple mixture was simmering. I do this before the eggs, as I want some time for the liquor to burn off. I know -- what's the point?! I don't want the alcohol content too high to where the ice cream won't set properly. I doubt a shot of booze would keep the ice cream from doing its thing, but I also like to keep the ice cream available for 21 and under. You still get the little bite of whisky, but the flavor is heightened with the extra vanilla and the maple really compliments it. On its own, it's a great alternative to a typical vanilla, but on a pie of any kind, it's ridonkulously good. And yes, that's a real word. An awesome one.

Ice cream and pie, best looking couple ever - Photos by Wasabi Prime

One of the reasons I was playing around with bourbon in desserts was because I was working on a dessert for Drink Me Magazine. I liked the combo of maple and bourbon so much, I developed a maple bourbon cheesecake for the latest issue that's out now. There's a kick of spice to it, so it's not all sweet, which I prefer with desserts. Cheesecake isn't a quickie dessert, it needs a little love, but it's worth the time and I'm particularly pleased with the brulee top. Giving it a smoky, candied sugar crunch adds a pleasant texture against the creaminess of the cheesecake. And it's fun to shout out, "Let's kick the tires and light the fires!" as you hand torch the crap out of the top of a whole dessert.

Behind the scenes on a photo shoot day - Photos by Wasabi Prime

Head to Drink Me's site to check out the whole magazine online, or if you're in the San Francisco area, printed copies are available. You can also check out their new look, they've been doing some fun things with the magazine and I look forward to developing more recipes. It's always a challenge to try and incorporate wine, beer or liquor into things on a plate, versus a glass. Hope you like the recipe, or if nothing else, the notion of mixing your drinks with food!

UnRecipe: Yes, Virginia, There Can Be Too Much of a Good Thing

You know you have these mental pictures rolling around in the ol' noggin, culinary creations that combine ingredients and flavors that in theory should work really well? Let's just say those good intentions often lead towards the Dark Side of indulgent culinary desires.

My stomach said yes, but my diastolic BP said hell no - Photo by Wasabi Prime

It was a simple enough notion: let's make a savory cheesecake. Cheese is one of those super-flexible ingredients that can transition from sweet to savory relatively easily, you just have to know which types of cheese works best and ideally, which cheese can play both sides. Cream cheese is most certainly one of them. You use it in the dessert variety of cheesecake, but the flavor is neutral enough to be used in savory applications. By taking a standard cheesecake recipe, omitting the sugar and adding some extra "oomph" of flavor with herbs and crispy pancetta, this notion of a savory cheesecake doesn't sound so bad... right?

To be clear, there wasn't anything wrong with the final product. My main concern was whether or not the cheesecake would set up properly -- technically it's more like a custard, not a cake, given its eggy-creamy batter which doesn't have much flour in it. The final baked good set up just fine. I made a savory crust, using some coarse breadcrumbs, a mix of panko, rye and regular toasted white bread. The crumbles were tossed with melted butter and pressed into a springform pan and baked for a few minutes to set up. The batter was a variation on a basic cheesecake recipe, sans sugar of course, using a mix of cream cheese and softened goat cheese. I mixed in a handful of chopped fresh herbs, mostly parsley, basil and some thyme from the garden. The last item I mixed in was a crumbling of pan-crisped pancetta for a meaty bite. The batter was poured over the crust in the springform pan and placed into the oven set to a low heat. I could have done the water bath, but it was fine, as the crust didn't crack during the bake time. All good in the 'hood so far, right...?

My biggest conundrum was how to serve. I love the ooey-gooey flavor of warm, melty cheese, but the problem with serving a slice of the cheesecake too soon is the fact that the center hasn't set yet, so the slice starts to resemble Jabba the Hut. Waiting for it to cool and set up for perfect slicing means you have chilled cheese -- not a terrible thing, but I wanted warm melty cheese goodness. I Benjamin Button-ed this thing and had it meet in the middle. I let the cake cool in the fridge, but then made a spicy tomato and kalamata olive relish, served hot, poured over the slice. The first bite was like a million flavor explosions went off in my brain. Incredibly rich, velvety-creamy cheesecake, super-savory hits of pancetta, kalamata olives, and the crisp crunch of the crust. It was like staring into the sun. You went blind from the sensory overload. And that's when it kind of hit me -- holy crap, I have the rest of this slice to eat and a whole rest of a cheesecake to finish. Of course, I wouldn't finish it in a single sitting, but knowing that much richness was in my immediate future, it's no wonder my vitals are off the charts. When I die, I won't be buried, I'll be a new fuel source for future generations.

Weapons of mass destruction - Photos by Wasabi Prime

So, what was the end lesson in this UnRecipe? It wasn't a failure, just a misadventure in too much of your favorite stuff is way too much of a good thing, especially if you love fatty cured meats and gooey cheese. I think I would make this again, but in small, bite-sized tart sizes. They would allow for fresh-from-the-oven eating, since as a bite-sized mini tart, you don't have to worry about slice integrity. And I could top with a little shard of pancetta, which would look prettier than the little bits that just got mixed and essentially lost into the batter. So, I consider this a dish something that's still a work in progress -- stay tuned, I'm sure it'll get revisited soon enough!