Many years ago, my husband and I spent a weekend in a
romantic bed and breakfast on the border between New Hampshire and
Vermont. Not only were the
accommodations charming, but the Inn also featured a well-renowned restaurant run by a
Cordon Bleu-trained chef. Our lovely suite ended up serving as a
“recovery room” for post-dinner discomfort.
Such was the food that we felt obligated to try almost everything on the
menu.
One of the most unusual items we sampled was an appetizer
called “Cheddar Cheesecake.” I was
curious by the description; it conjured images of everything from a mini wheel
of cheese to a fried, crispy latke-like patty that oozed when you cut into
it. In fact, this turned out to be a
rather traditional looking slice of cheesecake—like the dessert—except that it
was savory. By the looks of it, my
tongue expected the familiar sweet and creamy deliciousness that I love to eat
at the Carnegie Deli. But when I bit
into it, it tasted like a slice of the finest extra-sharp Vermont cheddar cheese.
It has been decades since that dinner, but the flavor and
texture of that single appetizer remains among my memories of great bites. I have searched high and low for the recipe—trying
to procure it from the Inn itself (which is no longer in business)
and from other sources that might have served as that chef’s inspiration. Even with the vast sources of internet recipes,
I still have not found a single recipe that would seem to reproduce that tasty
dish.
Each year at Thanksgiving I try one “high risk”
recipe—something I have not made before but wish to add to my repertoire. This year I have decided to take on the
elusive Cheddar Cheesecake. Gone from
the menu is my usual wintery soup, replaced instead by my own attempt to
whip up an authentic Cheddar Cheesecake.
I make a pretty good classic cheesecake. I once had a co-worker who worked part-time
as a caterer. She shared with me all the
secrets of a top-notch cheesecake—techniques that are conveniently omitted from
most cookbook recipes. Most people do not know
that you should add eggs last and beat them in one at a time. It also helps to release a cheesecake from
its springform pan if you line the removable bottom and the straight sides with
wax paper. Most importantly, a
cheesecake is best baked at the bottom rack of the oven at a low temperature
(300-325 degrees). When it sets up, it
is important to turn off the oven and open the door, allowing the cake to stand
and cool slowly in the residual warmth until it slumps and flattens. Those who rush this cool down process, or stick a warm
cheesecake in the refrigerator, are likely to discover that their beautiful
cake has developed a hideous, irrevocable crack through its surface.
So how to turn my beautiful, thick and flawless sweet
cheesecake into the Cheddar Cheesecake of my memory? I decided to keep it as close to my own cheesecake recipe as possible. I substituted panko for the
graham crackers in the crust, adding a little salt, pepper and Cajun seasoning,
then mixing it with melted butter and pressing it into the pan. For the batter itself, I retained the cream
cheese, sour cream and eggs, but omitted the sugar and vanilla. Instead, I added a few shakes of
Worcestershire sauce to impart a salty low note behind the
cheese. I grated 8 ounces of Extra Sharp
Cabot Cheddar with a fine grater and mixed it into the cream cheese
mixture. The final batter had as much
body as my traditional cheesecake with small lumps from the cheddar. I assumed (correctly) that these would melt
down during the baking process.
I am happy to report that the final product looks pretty good! It cooled to room temperature without even
the tiniest of cracks. I covered it and
popped it in the refrigerator until Thursday.
I plan to serve it next to a small toss of baby arugula and dried
cranberries, dressed in homemade champagne vinaigrette. If it tastes like the Cheddar Cheesecake from
that beautiful weekend in Vermont, I will have something else for which to be
thankful.
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