Monday, February 1, 2016

Consider This

Cheesecake Scramble

      Do you know that story about things moving in slow motion during a crisis? Well, do not doubt it. It happens, and I’m living proof. Here’s the sordid tale;

      It seems over the last many years when Mongo and I have been invited to dine at friends’ homes, and I’ve made the offer to “bring something” not really meaning it, I’m asked if I’d prepare and bring my World Famous Geoffrey’s Cheesecake. And I always accept the challenge. It is a cherished recipe reluctantly given to me by my beloved cousin Geoffrey Richardson when I was a young bride (56 years ago) and years before my darling Geoff died. I have made many dozens over the years and absolutely all earned high praise, even though I’d pretty much convinced myself that it was my glorious personality and not the cake that was so desirable. Once a couple who did not even speak English pantomimed to me to share the recipe so of course I gave it to them. I’ve never understood the idiocy of keeping good recipes a secret. What is that?? And yes, if you email me I’ll send the recipe to you gladly if you promise to always call it “Geoffrey’s World Famous Cheesecake.”

      Anyway, I’d been asked to bring my GWFC as my contribution to a small gathering of just women a few days ago. I agreed and prepared it. It takes two days to make it and except for one tiny ooops, it was as usual, perfection. It’s a big, heavy cake and after it bakes, the oven is turned off while it is allowed to sit for hours until completely cooled.

      When I pulled it from the oven, it was perfect as usual, and then, uh oh, the springform pan suddenly and unexpectedly popped apart and the contents somersaulted in the air and landed SPLAT, face down on the open oven door. It truly flipped slowly thru space, end over end if round things have ends and everything in the room also went into slowmo, just like in the movies. Damndest thing ever. My poor GWFC was pancaked, top side down with its butter-rich Graham cracker crust facing the ceiling. Smasho.

      It seemed a dream. A really bad one. I just stood still and silently stared at it for a while, and then calmly told Mongo what happened and bless his heart, he ran over to hug and kiss me. I guess he thought I’d begin weeping. No, not my MO. Then, looking down at the mess Mongo began to laugh and choke until I feared for his life. He just would not stop. I did not cry but I did seriously consider killing him.

      I said “There’s much to save” and I began to spatula up all the parts that were not on the floor and dumped it all into a big bowl. Mongo suggested I throw it out. Was he serious!!?? Yes he was---and then he stuck a spoon into the mess, ate some and --- well, swoon is a good word to use here. Mongo swooned. My GWFC always causes swoons.

      So, I brought the mess to the dinner party, renaming it Cheesecake Scramble. I had strawberries for the top, wherever the top was. Not pretty, but delish! The oven door was clean and the cake never hit the floor so it really was safe to eat, but I will admit it did look kind of gross. Ugly, but still a neato dessert even though a bit unconventional. My lady companions happily dug in, not minding the appearance of the strawberry topped mangled cheesecake mess and confirmed its worth by eating a whole lot of it.

      And what lesson did we learn here, folks? Well, I’ll tell you since I’m so very seriously into Life Lessons. We learned that even if something or someone looks a little smashed, out of shape, weird, perhaps even gross and ugly, they can still be pretty fabulous inwardly, and still worthy of our unconditional love, still be delicious and adored. For me the inspirational happening on that evening was my World Famous Geoffrey’s Cheese Cake Scramble.

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