How to Make a Cheesecake

This could be a recipe.  

This could also be some kind of analogy for my life, but I'm not going to force it.  Anyone who has ever tasted my life would argue that it is not really a dessert.   My life is kind of like the pickle they serve you with a sandwich.  You eat it because it's salty and sour and vinegary and you kind of like it, but mostly it's just there to make your mouth water so the mediocre-tasting sandwich tastes better. 

Here is how to make a cheesecake:

First, you have to decide on what kind of cheesecake you like.  I, for example, really like the dense and heavy New York style.  I keep it simple.  No added crap to get in the way of the cheesecake flavor.  I don't know what is wrong with people who like to put a bunch of swirly-fruity crap in their cheesecake.  Keep it simple.  Don't fill your cheesecake with chunks of crap, either.   No fudge chunks, or candy pieces.  I once saw a watermelon cheesecake.  It was even shaped like a watermelon.  The seeds were raisins.  Fucking raisins!  What the hell is wrong with people?

Glazes are out, too.  Not like a "topper" you put  on before you eat it, I'll talk about those later.  What I mean are the baked on tar-like casting resin some folks confuse with fancy.  Martha has a recipe for a brandy-apricot cheesecake glaze that just seems like a good way to make your teeth stick together, and fuck up a perfectly good cheesecake.

So, first you need to get a springform pan.  Anything else makes your cheesecake look stupid and not like a cheesecake at all.  Invest the 12 bucks and get a fucking springform pan.  Use it a whole bunch of times.

The crust is the most important part of the cheesecake.  No, I'm kidding, the cheese-cakey part is the most important, do you think I'm daft?  But, like the cake itself, keep the crust simple.  There is always the temptation to use something besides ghram-cracker crumbs, like, say, Nilla wafers.   Don't do it.  You're just asking for trouble.  Nothing good ever came from Nilla wafers except banana pudding, and that is a completely different blug entry.  Today is cheesecake, got it?

So take 2 cups of graham cracker crumbs and put them in a bowl.  Don't take square graham crackers and put them in a food processor and grind them up.  Actually go out and buy a box of crumbs you cheap bastard.  They are different than processed squares.  Don't ask me why or how, they just are, so shut up and quit second guessing me.  Jerk.

Add 1/4 cup of FINELY GROUND white sugar to the graham crackers.  If you ask me why regular white sugar won't work, I will kick your ass up between your ears.  Just trust me with this, it's a texture thing.  And I mean finely ground sugar, not confectioner's (or powdered) sugar.  Figure out the difference.

Okay.  Now, melt around 6 tablespoons of butter (maybe  a little more, if you like butter, but not enough to make it gloppy when you mix it all up).  The important thing is to use "Irish Butter".    Irish butter is not a gross euphemism for european semen.  It is a richer-tasting type of butter, and it costs more and you don't get as much, but it tastes so much better that you will want to rub it on yourself during sex.  Even if you are having sex by yourself.  Really.

Take the cracker-sugar-butter mixture and put it in the springform pan.  If you invested the money, you should have a non-stick springform pan.  If you were a cheap bastard, spray it with Pam.  Take the flat side of a measuring cup, or the bottom of a glass and press the mixture into the bottom of the pan, working it up the sides between and inch and an inch and a half.  Then, put the pan in the freezer.  Really.  This will make the butter get hard (heh heh) again, and hold the graham cracker crumbs together.

So, here's the tricky part: the cheesecake.

First, go out and buy yourself one of the fancy Kitchen-aid counter mixers.  In red, if you can.  For no other reason than it looks cool.  Like a shiny new bicycle.  Or Satan.  If you don't have a Kitchen Aid counter mixer, you have no business making a cheesecake, so fuck off.

Put 4 blocks (the 8oz. size) of room-temperature Philadelphia Cream Cheese (really) in the mixing bowl along with 1 cup of the fine sugar.   If you use fat-free cream cheese, I will personally come to your house and murder your family in front of you.  Really.  

Using the paddle-type mixer attachment, beat the cheese and sugar until it's creamy.  Not fluffy, exactly, but almost.  Make a point to clean off the beater attachment a few times during this process to make sure everything gets evenly distributed.  Scrape the mixing bowl down a couple of times, too.

Now, add a tablespoon of REAL vanilla extract, and 1 cup of sour cream.  Mix it in, don't whip it up too much.

So, if you are adding a flavor to your cheesecake, here is where to do it.  As stated earlier, don't be an ass.  Add subtle things.  You'll want to taste the cheesecake.   Be creative, but not overbearing.  Nobody likes an overbearing cheesecake.  Or Republicans.   I like to add the juice of one lemon, and shave all the yellow stuff off the outside.  There is a name for that stuff, but I don't remember what it is now, but I will later, so don't send me an email telling me what it is, because I already know.  Zest.  That's it.  Zest.  Just the yellow stuff, not the white stuff.  (heh heh)  You could also try a TINY bit of almond extract, or maybe some ground clove.  That might be nice.  Around Christmas, maybe.

NOW, add 4 brown eggs, one at a time (!) while the mixer is running on low.  Once all four eggs are added, turn the speed up a couple of notches, until everything is mixed together really really well, but NOT fluffy.  If you let the mixture get fluffy, it won't be that great, dense, texture.

So, let this mixture rest for a second, while you preheat the oven to 325.  If you have a gas oven, you are a very cool person.  If you are like the rest of us, you have an electric oven and you will have to put a shallow pan on the bottom rack of the oven and fill it with water so your cheesecake doesn't dry out and look like Paul Newman's face.

Take the pan out of the freezer, and pour/scrape in your mixture and give it a little shake on the counter to even it out.   Put the pan on a cookie sheet (to avoid burning the crust), and put it in the oven.  

Use 40-50 minutes a a guide to when it is done, but bet on it taking longer.  The cooking time will depend on everything from the oven you have, to how humid it is outside today.  You will want to cook it until the outsides of the cheesecake are getting to be a nutty color.  You will think it's done, but it's not.  You will need another 10 minutes.  Then, stick a something-or-other in the middle, and when it comes out mostly clean (it won't ever be totally clean, it's a cheesecake, moron) it's done.

DO NOT REMOVE THE OUTSIDE OF THE SPRINGFORM PAN.  I did this once, and fucked up a perfectly good maple-flavored cheesecake (4 tablespoons real Vermont Maple Syrup) by it dissolving on the counter.  So, take the HOT cheesecake and put it on a wire rack (a refrigerator rack taken outside of the fridge and propped up on 4 soup cans works great) for about 20-30 minutes.  NOW take the outside of the springform pan off.  

Smoke a bowl.  The reason you do this now, is because all the hard work is done, and once you make sure the oven is turned off, you are basically waiting for two hours to put it in the fridge.  So, get high, and watch a good movie, and when it's over, it will be time to move on to the next step.

Once the cheesecake is room tempature, put it in the fridge with some plastic wrap wrapped LOOSELY around it, and let it sit overnight.  

You will want to have a piece of the cheesecake before the next day.  If you really want to, go ahead, but it will taste better the next day.  Really.

When the cheesecake has aged in the fridge overnight, you can kind of "push" it off the bottom of the springform pan onto a serving plate.  Be careful.  Use a really flat spatula if you have to. DO NOT cut the cheesecake on top of your springform pan, it will fuck up your pan.

Toppings.   Toppings are okay.  Especially if you have succeeded in keeping the cheesecake a simple one.  But, make sure the topping matches the flavor of the cheesecake.  If the cheesecake is unflavored, use whatever you want.  Except booze.  Or pineapples.  For some reason these two things taste like old socks on cheesecake.  

For example, on my lemon-flavored cheesecake I just use a drizzle of honey on top.  Simple, but FUCKING good.   I have used lots of fresh fruit, but make sure it is just fruit, and not loaded with sugar.  Sugar on top of cake is just redundant and is extra calories.  Besides, if your fruit is ripe and yummy, you won't need sugar.  Thinly sliced kiwis are good on top of a lime cheesecake too.  

So, there ya go.  Cheesecake.  

My new heros

So, last week I'm in Ross Dress for Less, and I'm looking at shirts, and I hear this man scream from the back of the store, and thought, "Gee, weird..."   Then, I hear an announcement asking security to go to "Toys", and I figure somebody's drunk, or on crack, or whatever.  I mean, it is Ross Dress for Less, after all.   So, I finish with the shirts, peek my head into toys, curious if there is an cool arrest or anything going on, there wasn't.  I make my way over to the kitchen stuff, and I hear the most god-awful male screaming/yelling going on in the next aisle.  I am able to see between the shelves and what I see startles me.

There is a lady pushing her son (?) in a stroller.  The son is severely, no, violently, retarded.  That sounds awful, and I'll be the first one to call myself insensitive, but let me finish my point, first.  I use the word violently because his appearance seemed almost surreal in it's disfigurement.  My first reaction was "Jesus, what happened to that kid?"  Not, "Oh, he's severely handicapped, and probably mentally challenged."   I mean, this poor kid was fucked up.  Again, I'm trying to make a point here, if you, dear reader, will let me.   Yes, I am an insufferable jerkoff for not being sensitive and politically correct, but lemme finish.  I'm a pretty squeamish dude when it comes to messed up kids.

So, then I realize the "kid" is probably 17 or 18 years old.  His voice has changed, and he needs a shave.  But, he's screaming bloody murder because he wants something from Mom; what, I have no idea, but he's freaking screaming and it sounds like a grown man, and his face is all twisted up, and his teeth are kind of in and kind of outside of his mouth, and I'm not sure his mouth closes all the way, and there are big patches on his face that look like open sores, that might have been self-inflicted wounds, and his hands look like they're attached backwards, and his left eye is certainly blind, and I don't want to stare at him, but he's screaming and freaking me out, and I'm a little stoned and trying to be understanding/politically correct/niceguy but it's not working, because he's fucking screaming like a grown man and moving around with his under-developed chest and legs that are both really hairy, and I start to leave and then his Mom speaks to him:

"Paul, it's okay.  Be quiet, honey.  Mommy's here."

Paul quiets down and looks back at Mom pushing him and Mom smiles and puts her hand on his head, and Paul, with tears in his eyes, makes a whooshing sound and Mom kisses him on the side of his face, and pushes him down the aisle.

This is everyday for this woman.  This is her reality.  This is her son that she loves and is taking care of  until she is either too old, or he dies.  She loves him.  

That woman is my new fucking hero.  She makes me believe in people again.  She is being a Mom and doing her job, and taking the pain and anger that I'm sure she's felt over the years, and not giving a shit about what the people in the store are saying and how many are avoiding her, because she is enjoying a day shopping with her son, and fuck all those people in the store because they don't know what she's gone through, but she's not pissed off, she's just being a mom and kissing her son on the cheek.  Mom is fucking awesome.

Paul is my new hero too.  Paul is my hero because he's so fucked up and might not even know it.  But, he is just alive.  He is just living his life, and not worrying about why he is so messed up.  He's not blaming anyone.  He's not concerned about me, a little stoned, freaking out on the other side of the kitchen utensil aisle in Ross Dress for Less.  He's just quieting down because his mommy told him to.  He was being a good boy.  Fucking right he is.

It makes my day-to-day shit pale in comparison.  The amount of bravado I need to scrape up to make it through the day is so wasted.  My little problems with money and time and money again just seem silly compared to Paul and his Mom.

Bear With Me

Tomorrow is my birthday.

I like birthdays.   I get to be a complete prick all day, and smug as hell, and nobody can do anything about it, without appearing like a complete pain in the ass.

This evening, my wife told me that she would be buying me a SKYDIVING session next week.  So, I have all of this week to chicken out.  But I won't.  I've wanted to skydive for years.  However, I would only do it "tandem" as I'm afraid that I would freak out and freeze and not pull the string.  Or, for that matter, just "forget" to do it and people would wonder if my chute failed, or I just committed suicide in a BIG way.

Personally, if I ever decide to commit suicide it will be dramatic.  I'm thinking bears.  If you get mauled and killed and perhaps partially eaten by a wild bear, people respect you.  Even if you were a complete jerkoff during your life, folks would be like, "He was kind of an ass, but did you hear he got devoured by a BEAR?"  Everybody respects bears.

If I was a bear, I would live near a fire service road, and when folks came around a bend, I would stand up and ROUULLLLLLOOOO at them.  I wonder if I could get them to run their car off the road, and down a mountain.  I would be like a killer bear.  It's the perfect crime.   No actual contact with the deceased, just a few tracks in the road.  Guys who drive on fire service roads are usually drunk anyway.  People would just write it off as drunk driving.  Even if somebody did link me to the accident, I'M A FRICKING BEAR, FOR GODDSAKE!   What are they gonna do?

Where was I....

OH, yeah, jumping out of planes.

So, I think it will be as scary as shit jumping out of a plane on another guy's back.  Kind of daring and kind of gay at the same time.  It's sad that something as potentially important to my psyche as jumping out of a plane needs to be marred my me worrying about my manhood.

Shit, if the dude gets me safely to the ground, I will probably kiss him right on the mouth.

I won't even care if he's my type.

It would be cool to go skydiving with a bear.

ROUUUULLLLOOOOO!!!!

Spill and Thrill

I hate a lot of stuff, and I probably shouldn't.  

I want a lot of stuff, and I probably shouldn't.

It doesn't make me a bad person.  But, in retrospect, it may make me more average in the long run.  

I want to be more average.  

There's another thing I want.

Keep reading for more blogging madness.  I hate the word "blog".  I'm gonna change it to blug, just to piss everybody off.  I will continue to use the word blug, just so some jerkoff can call me on it, and I can refer him to this posting, and then I will be the smart one, won't I?  WON'T I?  C'MON ANSWER ME!  I WILL BE THE SMART ONE!   HAHAHAHAHAHA!!!