delicious cheesecake overload!

I always knew my mom was awesome. But just to give further proof to that: She showed up on the weekend of my graduation with not one delicious cheesecake for me... but two!

Two cheesecakes! Properly accompanied by a basketful of rosy red strawberries, the perfect fresh complement to a decadent dessert. What's a girl to do with that much cheesecake?! Well, first I ate it that weekend with family and friends. Then there was at least a good cheesecake and a half left. So I brought a whole cake into work to share at the new job. Then there was still well over half a cheesecake left. Then, after pushing as much as I could of it on Dave (not so much a cheesecake fan, that one), it was just up to me. Slices and slices of creamy, sweet, rich cheesecake with a decided trace of fresh lemon from added rind, and a softened, crumbly graham cracker crust.

To finish it off, I did what anyone would do. Obviously, I had to blur the lines of "dessert" for this baby. You can't just waste good cheesecake, people. Over the course of the last two weeks, I've chased dinner with a slim slice of cheescake. I've skipped dinner for a slice of cheesecake. I've come home from work midday for cheesecake. I've had cheesecake and cereal for breakfast. Once you've stooped to my level, cheesecake takes on a whole new meaning. It can become a morning danish, an appetizer... a grab-it-in-your-hands-and-go snack. It's been truly revolutionary for me, really.

Anyway, it's finally gone. I'm a little lost without it now, as I'm sure you can understand. So my advice, for when you make this, is to limit the batch to one. I don't want all of you to face what I'm going through now— the withdrawal phase. But I do want you to make this. It's none of that fluffy, light, jiggling cheesecake junk the supermarket tries to pass off, and it's not tricked out with chocolate, brownies, kahlua, cookies or whatever the Cheesecake Factory believes should taint each slice. It's thick, filling, flavorful, delicious... and yet simple. The kind of thing your mother would make you (like mine did). I think you'll like it.

Cheesecake

2 packages cream cheese (light works fine, too)

just under 1 cup sugar

3 eggs

1 1/2 teaspoons vanilla

fresh grated lemon rind, to taste

1 small container sour cream (8 ounces)

pre-made graham cracker crust (or make your own)

Beat cream cheese until smooth, adding one egg at a time and the sugar, vanilla, and lemon rind gradually until the mixture is smooth and fluffy. Add the sour cream and beat. Pour into graham cracker crust and bake for 45-50 minutes at 325 degrees. The top will usually crack. Shut off the oven and keep the cheesecake in for another 20-30 minutes, or up to one hour. Remove and let cool before serving with fresh strawberries and cream.

ricotta, chive, and garlic gnocchi

I am easily influenced by a good photo of food. It doesn't take much before I'm dying to try those cocoa-chocolate chip pillows/ bourbon peach hand pies/ apple jellies. And those are just a few of the recipes I have bookmarked.

So when I noticed that eat make read's gnocchi post was bookmarked twice, I decided it was time to take action. No matter that I'd only had gnocchi once, and it was a so-so experience. This recipe didn't even call for potato, something I had assumed was the staple for this dish. Instead, it asked for ricotta cheese, onions, and garlic... all very good things. How could it not be delicous?

I substituted chives for the green onions because, well, frankly I'm not sure what the difference is, and I've always been a chive fan. I used to sit in our backyard garden as a kid and nibble a handful.

This recipe is actually pretty simple, but if you're at all like me, you will feel so accomplished sitting down at a plate of totally handmade gnocchi. It was really good! I'm not convinced I'm a true gnocchi lover—I'm just not sure about the texture— but the flavor was so fresh and vivid with the cheese and chives, and it smelled like a backyard garden. Mixed with a fresh tomato-basil marinara, and served alongside homemade cornbread, this was amazing. And well worth the extra effort.

Then, if you're really at all like me, you'll look back at your photos a few days later and regret the pear-infused draft ciders that you were drinking while whipping up this gnocchi. Because these photos (at least the ones that I took; Dave took some) do no justice to these cute little nuggets! So please overlook the photography and just trust me that this is something you should definitely try. It's like a little burst of springtime in your mouth.

Ricotta, Chive, and Garlic Gnocchi

Adapted from eat make read

15 ounces ricotta cheese

1 large egg

1/2 teaspoon salt

1/2 teaspoon pepper

a large handful of chives, minced

7 cloves of garlic, minced

1/2 cup finely shredded cheese (I used a mix of Parmesan, Asiago, and Romano)

roughly 2 cups of flour

marinara sauce

Bring salted water to a boil.

In a large bowl, combine the ricotta, egg, salt, pepper, chives, garlic, and cheeses. Gradually add the flour, 1/4 cup at a time, only until the dough holds together. Remove a small ball of dough and drop in the boiling water— if it falls apart, add more flour and test again.

Divide the dough into four equal parts. Roll each section into a long rope about 1-inch in diameter on a well-floured surface. Cut the dough ropes into 1-inch pieces and indent gently with a fork to give them shape.

Remove about half of the gnocchi for future dinners—cover them in flour so they don't stick together and freeze. Drop the rest into boiling water and stir gently to prevent sticking. The gnocchi are cooked when they float up to the top.

Drain and serve over marinara sauce with a sprinkling of extra cheese on top.