MOTHER BLOGGER: Spiced Pumpkin Cheesecake with a Chestnut Crust
BY BRYAN LAVERY
At one time Mother felt certain that owning and managing a restaurant, even with an experienced partner, (me) was probably the toughest job in the world. Her thoughts of sipping champagne with Stepfather in the front window of our restaurant, La Cucina, while everything ran smoothly, were dashed within the first few days of our opening. When I suggested that she didn’t actually have to get down on her hands and knees and scrub the kitchen floor after each shift, she replied, “Really,” acting as if I were questioning her work ethic and her belief in the moral benefit of hard work. This continued night after night until we sold the restaurant a couple of years later. It was the truth, she did not need to wash the floor but for whatever reason, if she was on the premises at closing time she chose to wash the floor herself. It allowed her a certain moral authority.
If you were to ask about the difficulties inherent in running
a restaurant my mother can and will illustrate her point with the example of unreliable and thoughtless dishwashers who don’t show up for a
scheduled shift. “Have you ever scrubbed pots and pans for 10 hours while
trying to keep up with the dishwashing and all the time staff are demanding clean
dishes and polished cutlery?” Mother gesticulates, exercising her flair for the
dramatic arts, “All the while you’re attempting to do prep and a million other
things that need to be done .” Now twenty five years later, Mother seems to be
reconsidering her position about the toughest job in the world. On her blog she
has posted a story which I encouraged her to write entitled, My Day with a Cheesecake. It is about an
event nearly a decade ago which she describes as a trauma. When I think of
trauma, my mind goes to emotional or psychological injuries or life threatening
situations. We are “food” people and serious about our vocation. This is why I understand
and am sympathetic to her hyperbole. It all started when the regular recipe
columnist suddenly became unavailable. In the spirit
of helpfulness, I suggested I could pick up the slack by producing several autumnal
recipes that needed to be cooked and photographed last minute for an upcoming
issue.
Finding myself too
busy with other pressing projects and a looming deadline, Mother (who could
add professional baker to her resume if she wasn’t long retired) volunteered to
bake my recipe for Spiced Pumpkin Cheesecake with a Chestnut Crust for the
photoshoot. She and Stepfather know all the tips and tricks for
making baking a cheesecake a breeze. Their velvety mincemeat cheesecake
with the perfect calibration of flavours is legendary.
The first obstacle was
to locate chestnuts weeks before they are in season. They are needed both for
the crust and to be candied for the top of the rosettes that will decorate the
cheesecake. After some initial panic, the roasted, peeled and ready to eat,
vacuum-pack variety became the logical answer. Even though Stepfather (also
a professional cook and baker) has tried to candy them, the
sugar solution would not adhere. Undaunted we forged ahead. On her
blog, Mother later posted what she referred to as the difficulties involved in
baking, decorating, styling and photographing what she calls an “uncooperative
cheesecake.” She does not tell the reader that it is an unseasonably hot and
humid late September day, which in retrospect was instrumental in explaining
several of our mishaps. The trouble, the way she views it, begins with getting
an unfamiliar recipe that she has never attempted. She claims that it is a
challenge. Mother is a perfectionist who
has a passion for baking. She is excellent at attending to every little detail, and
likes things done in a specific way, her own. We are a family who have
collaborated on many different food themed projects throughout the years and our
individual culinary beliefs are deeply ingrained. When we are working together
we believe that constant intervention and attention to detail is beneficial and
absolutely necessary. We derive a genuine sense of accomplishment and
camaraderie, however fleeting, from the labours of our painstaking efforts and
the solicited and often unsolicited advice we so helpfully offer each other.
To hear Mother tell it, the chaos began with a trip to the
supermarket. "Why do they keep these stores so cold, she later asks her
readers," When questioned she admits
that it is to her detriment that she doesn’t shop aisle by aisle, instead
she shops as she remembers the ingredients that she requires. She moves quickly
from place to place all the time providing a running commentary. (Read complaining
softly or muttering under her breath). The items she needs have either been
moved from where they should be located or are out of stock. Finally, she has
everything she requires, however, not in the most convenient sizes. Nonetheless
she purchases the quantities required for the recipe. With groceries in hand,
heading for her car, she remembers that she has forgotten to buy the whipping
cream. (Read edible oil products in an aerosol can.) Back into the store, now
where in the name of mankind do they keep it? At last, she finds and purchases
what she believes to be convenience in a can. Back home and to the kitchen with
recipe in hand, she begins to assemble the ingredients. She begins with the
crust and immediately realizes that she has forgotten to purchase the graham
cracker crumbs. After a quick check through her pantry, drawer by drawer, all
the time complaining loudly about an unnamed interloper, the inference being my
step father must have moved them from their proper home. The graham crackers
are eventually located and that is when she comes to the realization that they
may be to stale to be palatable. “Oh well, we don't have to eat that part of
the cheesecake if it turns out they are "funny tasting,” she later
confides in her blog, much to my horror.
Mother pulls out her Cuisinart to make crumbs from the
crackers. It doesn't take long, but a mess is now starting to accumulate on the
counter and she doesn’t like a messy kitchen. She puts the Cuisinart aside
to be washed later. Then she hauls out the consolation prize for her years as a
restaurateur, a Kenwood Industrial Restaurant Chef Mixer. It is
extremely heavy so it is kept on its own shelf in a purposely built cupboard.
“It is the same type of shelf that the old manual typewriters used to sit on”, blogs
Mother, referring to the days when she did office work. When it's in use the
space between the counter top and the free-standing kitchen island becomes
almost impassable. My parents have an enviable and large open-kitchen, custom designed
so that two people can cook together. Nevertheless Mother is beginning to feel
mild anxiety, the kitchen intervening and closing in around her. She presses on
with the batter. By the time she finishes mixing, adding and stirring, she has
batter on herself, the mixer and the counter top. It should be easier to add
ingredients without coming into contact with a messy beater every time. She
cuts and presses parchment paper to bottom and sides of the springform pan. She
follows the recipe directions to a tee and pours the ingredients into the
prepared pan, baking for 1 hour. With the oven door ajar and the heat turned
off, the cheesecake is left in the oven for additional hour. The recipe clearly
states leaving the door ajar will allow the cheesecake to cool slowly and
prevent cracking of the surface. Anticipating a perfection but to my mother’s dread,
and later mine, the cheesecake is cracked. “A small fracture not exactly crater
size. Just enough to lend the cheesecake an air of rusticity," offers Stepfather.
Mother blogs, “Waiting now for my son the chef to come over
and decorate the cheesecake and oversee the taking of photographs for the
magazine. Almost the first thing Chef tells me when he arrives, is how busy he
has been for the past several days and so he is quite tired.” I was trying to
source quince a few weeks before they were ripe and in season. Painstakingly
preparing a complicated Moroccan-inspired chicken and quince tagine at
my friend Kathy’s apartment we stayed up late making certain everything was
perfection. I was unable to see the cheesecake until early the next morning. In
the refrigerator for a second day, mother alleges that the properly covered
cheesecake began to shrink away from its sides, and as she put it, “To top that
off, it looked like a large bread bowl with the contents starting to spill over
the sides. Oh dear...”
It is now time to decorate the cheesecake, this proverbial dog
and pony show takes "three cooks." Mother blogs that the experience
is chaotic, “For starters I purchased whipped cream in an aerosol can. A
definite no-no, as my son, never uses anything that sprays out of a can – never
ever. So then I have to do the decorating – not really my forte. If that wasn't
bad enough, instead of regular whipped cream I had purchased the light
variety.” Shaking the aerosol can with all her might, the synthetic edible oil,
whipped cream product emerges half-heartedly from the nozzle. It
immediately began to weep on the plate. It would not stand up on the plate,
never mind it being used as piping for a decorative rosette border. Stepfather and I hop into car to go to the supermarket to buy real 35% cream
for whipping. Mother stayed back and started the process of clean-up, at which
she says,“ Ì am very adept. ”
Now we're all set, we have a new litre of whipping cream. Out
comes the Cuisinart again, my choice as I thought the other option would be a
metal bowl and a wire balloon whisk. A great deal of spinning and beating
occurs but, the cream is not light and fluffy, there are no soft peaks forming.
The whipping cream is doing its own "thing" and is quickly turning
into buttermilk. Immediately we realize that we need to stabilize the whipping
cream. Cook number three ( Stepfather) has suggested using some gelatin to
stiffen the mixture. But he forgets that the gelatin should be dissolved first
in water for five minutes. Immediately we find out that if the gelatin is just
slightly too hot it will deflate the whipped cream when it is added. If it is
allowed to cool too much it will not incorporate into the cream. It still
doesn't want to whip. Try, try again. I suggest adding icing sugar, then more
icing sugar, when that doesn't work I suggests a bit of cream of tartar. Later
I realize that it wasn’t cream of tartar but corn starch that we should
have been using. Nothing is working to bring the whipping cream back to the
desired consistency. Stepfather washes piping bag and dries it with his hair
dryer as this is his favourite piping bag and no other will do. Stepfather gets
ice from freezer, a clean bowl and freshly dried piping bag and it’s his turn.
Hurray, rosettes in place, chestnuts on top of each rosette and now time for a
photo. Disaster, no one would want to
try something that looks like that. Take off chestnuts, remove rosettes and I
start carefully cutting off the ridge of the cheesecake. With each new
challenge, I remind the other two just how tired I am. Meanwhile Stepfather
cooks additional pumpkin pie filling in the microwave. He begins to even out
the surface as if sculpting, filling in the offending crack in the cheesecake
and smoothing out any irregularities on the surface. It is near perfection,
flawless an absolute work of art, the crack has miraculously disappeared. Now I
am in charge of the whipped cream in the piping bag. The cheesecake sits regally
on a fancy elevated cake plate, and after several attempts by all three cooks,
toothpicks are carefully placed at proper intervals so that flawless rosettes
can be piped around the newly levelled top. Twenty rosettes, twinned with twenty
chestnuts. Picture perfect, it is time for the photographs. The counter is
draped decorously with a white linen tablecloth. The cheesecake is placed in
position and various seasonal props are added to the background for additional
flair. Gourds of various sizes, a large decorative wicker chicken my brother
Gary purchased in China, plus an assortment of flowers, leaves and stems that
Stepfather has gathered from his garden. The only thing missing is Grandpa’s
farm tractor pulling a flatbed of hay.
We spend a lot of time placing gourds "just so."
Where is the camera? Accusations fly, “Someone must have moved it!” But it is
sitting on the counter right in front of Mother, exactly where she left it. She
leaps up on a step stool and takes photographs from several different angles.
She removes the gourds, the chicken is relegated to the background, and flowers
are arranged and rearranged. Mother takes more pictures from different angles.
This goes on ad nauseam. Mother thinks she is Annie Leibovitz. Stepfather
returns to the garden looking for more flowers and leaves. Finally the
photographs are downloaded to the computer for inspection. We all have an
opinion but the consensus is that most of the photographs won't do. The chicken’s
head is far too large, there are too many gourds, too many chestnuts, and on
top of that there is a dark spot in the far corner of the shot. Another white
table cloth is procured and I am instructed to hang it as a backdrop. Mother
searches for the camera, again. "In the future, please don't touch it!"
(It is right under her nose.) More pictures with alternative decorations.
Looking for the money shot. Lights, Camera, Action! Hooray, some of the
photographs look good.
Now it’s time for a
close-up of the cake with a slice removed. The cake is cut, a slice placed on
dessert plate with a fork. Again, look for the camera; it is hidden under the
newly arranged tablecloths. Set up the shot again. Take a zillion more pictures,
download to computer. "Well, those won't do, the cake slice is messy
looking. Egad, will this ever end? Another dozen or so more shots and at last
we have the pictures we need. "With freshly brewed coffee we now try our
cheesecake for taste, it is delicious, the texture perfect. Thank heavens for
that. Mother and Stepfather both think it needs more ginger less lemon. "For
me, every aspect of the food business I have been involved with can be time
consuming and stressful. It is no wonder we celebrate the finished product. “Great food, now I look forward to the next
adventure in the kitchen. That's how I see it, anyway", blogs Mother.
Spiced Pumpkin
Cheesecake with a Chestnut Crust
A Great Seasonal
Cheesecake with Warm Fall Spices and a Hint of Chestnut.
Chestnut
Crust
Ingredients
1/2 cup (125
mL) melted unsalted butter
1 1/2 cups
(375 mL) finely ground gingersnap or graham cracker crumbs
2 tbsp (25
mL) light or dark brown sugar
1/3 cup (75
mL) roasted chestnuts, finely chopped
Filling
2 tbsp (25
mL) unsalted butter, at room temperature
1 1/2 cups
(375 mL) cream cheese, at room temperature
3/4 cup (175
mL) packed light or dark brown sugar
1 1/2 cups
(375 mL) puréed cooked pumpkin, fresh or canned
2 large eggs
2 large egg
yolks
1 cup (250
mL) sour cream
3 tbsp (45
mL) all-purpose flour
1 tsp (5 mL)
vanilla
2 tsp (10
mL) ground cinnamon
2 tsp (10
mL) ground nutmeg
2 tsp (10
mL) ground ginger
1 tbsp (15
mL) lemon zest
2 tbsp (25
mL) freshly squeezed lemon juice
Whipped
Cream Topping
1/2 cup (125
mL) 35% whipping cream
1 tsp (5 mL)
sugar
Candied
chestnuts
Method
1. Preheat
oven to 350°F (180°C).
2. Line
sides of a 9-inch (2.5-L) springform pan with parchment paper and then brush
sides of parchment with 2 tbsp (25 mL) melted butter.
3. Stir
together ginger snap crumbs, sugar, chestnuts and remaining melted butter. Mix
together and pat into bottom and sides of prepared pan. Chill crust in
refrigerator while preparing filling.
4. Make sure
your eggs are cold and have all the other ingredients at room temperature.
5. In a
large bowl or a food processor, cream butter and cream cheese together. Scrape
down sides, add sugar and beat until light and fluffy. Scrape sides again and
beat in pumpkin.
6. Add eggs
and egg yolks one at a time, beating well after each addition. Beat in sour
cream, flour, vanilla, cinnamon, nutmeg, ginger, lemon zest, and juice.
7. Pour
filling into chilled base. Bake cake in centre of oven for 1 hour. Leave oven
door ajar, turn off heat, and let cake sit in oven for an additional hour to
cool. (Cooling in the oven will prevent the cake from cracking.) Let cake cool
slowly and completely before unmoulding. Chill in the refrigerator for at least
6 hours, but ideally you should let a cheesecake settle for 24 hours in the pan
before unmoulding.
7. Whip
cream until soft peaks form then beat in sugar. Pipe or dollop 20 rosettes of
whipped cream around the top edge of the cheesecake. Top each rosette with a
candied chestnut.
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