So, tragically it has been almost a week since the Cheesecake event of which I speak. Unfortunately, my culinary reflections and my midterms are not really on the same page.
Regardless, last friday night, I served Cheesecake a la Bartlett (or as my sister calls it– somewhat less romantically– “Prison Cheesecake).
In making this cheesecake, I mastered the art of dining hall grocery shopping. My dorm mates and I, at every meal, would stealthily grab creme cheese and sugar. In all, we got…
24 packets of Creme Cheese, 122 sugar packets.
Because, after all, food tastes better when you work for it (or at least steal the ingredients
!
I made a chocolate swirl cheesecake from this recipe. The Chocolate wafer crust was especially fabulous. It reminded me of one really big Oreo! (One note: the recipe makes way too much filling. I made a whole pan of cheesecake “puddings” as well. I’m not complaining, but the filling quantities could probably be split in half).
However, unfortunately, I haven’t always loved cheesecake as much as I do now. When I was… probably six years old, my mother’s friend Wayne came to town. Wayne is a milliner (he makes hats) and whenever he would come he would leave Dia and me with countless goodies that would make any six-year-old girl go wild with joy. There were ribbons, flowers, butterflies, beads, buttons, glitter (which was strictly forbidden in my household. Wayne had our best interest in mind
), sequins, etc. But most notably, he would bring hat frames, so Dia and I could decorate our own hats. Dia and I would spend days with a hot glue gun and ALL of those knickknacks spread out in the basement designing the most bubbly, girly, six-year-old girl hats we could manage. At the end of this, my mom would always find some event worthy of a hat to attend: a tea party, a trip to the rose garden, etc.
Well, as we left for one of these events, my darling father looked at my feathered, butterflied, glittered, sequined, ribboned, and very very Pink hat, and said “It looks like a cheesecake.”
I can’t say why, but this enraged me. For years after that, no one could as much as say the word cheesecake in my presence. I wouldn’t even think of eating it.
However, after many years, I have finally gotten past the trauma of my father’s comment about my hat. And its a good thing I did, because now I fully appreciate the phenomenon that is cheesecake.
So last Friday, late at night, about a dozen dorm-mates joined Kai (my roommate) and me in our room for cheesecake and Apples to Apples. T’was a perfect end of the week.

The Dry-Erase board on our door celebrating the epic event

