Recipe - Aged Cheese Cake

If you want to skip my ramblings and get straight to the recipe, it’s below the photo.

What started as a pandemic project ended up as the capstone to a very fulfilling evening a couple of weeks ago at Chapman’s Eat Market.

I’ve had a few remarkable cheesecakes in recent memory, (my sister made me a killer cake that I divided up and hid slices in the freezer to last a while and BJ from Chapman’s served a version made with La Tur at his intro pop up that was an eye opener).

Cheesecake is one thing that

(A) I can never get enough of

and

(B) I’ve never really tried to make

If I’m honest, I think all of the old aunties and church ladies had me scared shitless about it with all the rules. The ladies that made good cheesecakes were kinda of the blackbelts of the potluck. No man could match their style and they knew it Tiny, creamy slices were doled out to the first in line to bow to their prowess. Everyone else was stuck with the no bake cheesecake bars (which I’d still happily smash) draped in too sweet cherry pie filling that Karen brought. She used a box mix, so…

All that being said, my “I do what I want” success rate with food has been pretty high, so I decided to give it a shot. I wanted to make something unique so I wanted to avoid the use of a soft cheese. I wanted something bold so, in my tests, I opted for an aged, drier cheese; specifically Shenanigans from Black Radish Creamery. It’s a little fermenty, pretty concentrated and dry and has a salt and peppery kick. For the Chapman’s course we used the Cabot Clothbound Cheddar, which is very peppery and sharp.

The problem I was faced with? Getting a pretty hard cheese to act like cream cheese. My strategy was to rehydrate the cheese and cream it with skim milk to make a sharp cream cheese. The trick was to make a smooth cheese purée without adding any heat, so making the puree in small batches with ice cold milk is important. It took a couple of tries to get my cream cheese to sharp cream cheese ratio correct. All cheese puree was far too intense and once and I adjusted it down to a 1:1 ratio which feels like a dessert and a cheese course simultaneously. (FOR THE RECORD, Justin @ Chapmans also does what he wants, and gently heated the milk and cheese until it was loose but not melting and it worked. If you don’t have a high powered blender this could be the way to go if you want to try this recipe)

Special Equipment

High Powered Blender

2 ounce muffin molds

Parchment paper cut into 4 inch squares

Lil (Intentionally) Burnt Guy

10 oz cheese purée (8 oz grated aged, hard cheese and 2 ounces skim milk, Ice cold please)

10 oz cream cheese

1/4 cup plus 1 T sugar

2.5 T flour

1 egg

5 yolks

2 t vanilla

Preheat oven to 400 degrees and bring to a simmer 4 cups of water

In a mixing bowl, whip softened cream cheese and cheese purée.

Add yolks, the egg, sugar and vanilla and blended until homogenous. Sift flour into the bowl and quickly incorporate. It’s a small amount of flour but we want to avoid any gluten development. (GF note, this recipe has been tested with cup for cup gf flour and was lovely)

Lightly oil your molds and press the parchment into the molds, creasing them to fit (you can use an 9 inch spring form pan, but you’ll need to double the recipe) Fill your molds with the cheesecake batter and sprinkle the tops lightly with sugar.

place your mold or springform into a high sided cookie tray on the center rack in the oven and carefully pour hot water into the cookie tray to generated some steam to protect the edges from curdling.

After 10 minutes in the oven, reduce the heat to 350. We’re shooting for 160 degrees internal here. And how long that takes really depends on the size of your baking vessel.

start checking small molds in 6 minutes and if you’re using a springform, start checking in 10. The cake will have a very light jiggle.

Be careful removing the pan from the oven, because it’s now filled with boiling water. I’d remove the cake pan and allow the water bath to cool a bit.

Your cake needs to cool a bit until it’s set, but I’m impatient and like to eat a slice a lil warm.

Shrimp Roll - Roy’s Avenue Supper Club

The entire premise of this site is that sometimes a dish sticks with you and for a cook, that can be an opportunity to learn something…

This dish hit me. It’s not just that it was delicious, but also that I’m not likely to ever eat it again. Most of the dishes that are and will be featured here are ones that I’ve eaten over and again. These few treasured bites, however, will likely only live in my memory. I won’t have the ability to return to it, to savor and evaluate it.

There could be, hell, probably should be a blog based entirely on the wonderful meals shared around the charming dining room table of Andrew Smith and Devoney Mills.

In my several trips, I’ve been impressed at how inventive 100% of the dishes have been. That’s not to say I’ve loved them all, but watching someone explore their up to the moment interests and sharpen their ethos in real time can be an exhilarating experience.

There have been a few dishes from that table that I’ve talked about for days, but only a few that have lingered in the back of my mind for weeks and weeks like the shrimp roll I had on my mid-summer visit.

Af my first fine dining job, I was always taught that if you wanted to make something TASTE like a thing, that you should go for it. “This doesn’t taste like anything”, was a common refrain.

This roll is a spirit bomb of shrimpiness.

Every bite coalesces into a perfect harmony of textures. The bread, enriched with butter infused with the flavor of shrimp shell, was perfectly toasted (and whittled adorably). It was rich, flavorful and extremely satisfying.

The Shrimp was perfectly cooked, bouncy and backlit by a gently acidic mayo that’s also bolstered by shrimp shells (and I’d guess a little MSG) as well as crunchy aromatics and herbs which lay just outside the reach of my memory.

Most seafood rolls are about the salad. The bread, no matter how artisanally made, is just a vehicle to get it into your body. This roll was a different matter all together. Everything element of the dish is from and in service to that shrimp.

I can’t recommend a night at Roy’s Avenue to eat this dish. The temporary nature of the experience is part of what makes it so special. But, given the care that is lavished on all of the dishes by Andrew and the lush and inviting atmosphere created by Devoney, I can provide a full-throated suggestion that you get yourself on the list for an invite and treat yo-self to a home cooked luxury experience.

Key Lime Eclair - Pistacia Vera (North Market / German Village)

When I was a child, I spoke as a child, I understood as a child, I ate éclairs as a child.  What I now know as Long Johns or cream sticks were my jam.  I (almost) loved them all; chocolate, maple; even vanilla iced if I had to. 

The "éclair" was my primary choice of donut.  It was the most bang for my buck and I'd sprint to the box whenever we had a donut occasion to claim my prize and whoa unto those that snuck a custard filled pastry in place of a cream filled one.  Cream filling and pudding was great.  Custard was jiggly and  gross.  There was much weeping and gnashing of teeth over that mistake because taking a bite was really only way to find out what was inside(cause asking never really occurred to me). 

I was 15 the first time I had pate a choux.  It was in the form of a cream puff from a local place famed for them, and at that time I felt as though that "dessert" was the worst trick anyone had ever played on me.  It was a fluffy cloud overflowing with cream and I couldn't wait to have my way with it.  I picked it up and took a huge bite.  My eyes narrowed as I realized I'd been betrayed.  I choked the bite down and pushed the rest away.  It was just bread.  Someone took a piece of plain, dry ass bread and put whipped cream in it and called it a dessert.  I called it bullshit (I now know better).

 I didn't get stupid, bready choux pastries and carried that prejudice deep down in my heart for years, dismissing them all out of hand until one day I saw a tight column of choux with a crunchy tuille of caramelized sugar atop it in the case at Pistacia Vera in German Village.  I'd built enough trust in them to give choux another go.

Their vanilla crème brulee éclair was a more than worthy reintroduction to pate a choux that was also filled with custard.  Double hatred transmuted to double love.  It all worked in a way that kid me probably never could have understood.

I could speak at length about my love for Pistacia Vera.  I think that they're putting out the best food in the city, but perhaps my favorite thing they make at the moment is the Key Lime éclair.  Its a tight race mind you; and if you catch me on another day its likely I'd be singing the praises of the feuilletines, fudgies or orange brioche a tete.  Alas, I don't do restaurant reviews.

This version of their éclair embodies a freshness fit for the season.  The vanilla bean flecked Chantilly is even and tight without showing a sign of breaking or weeping.  The perfectly salted choux is gently crisp and never even slightly stale or soggy.  Salt seems to be too often neglected in the pastry department.  The light streusel is barely sweet and not at all greasy.  The lime curd is acidic, rich and creamy with no flan jiggle denoting the use of a yolk heavy base.  It's all the highlights of a well made key lime pie.

Head to either Pistacia Vera and empty the case. There's literally nothing there to disappoint you.

german village

541 south third street
columbus, ohio 43215
p 614 220 9070

OPEN DAILY: 7 am - 5 pm

or

north market

59 spruce street
columbus, oh 43215
p 614 221 1001

OPEN DAILY:

sunday - monday: 10am - 5pm
tuesday - saturday:  9am - 7pm

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There goes my BAAAAAYYYYBEEEEEE!

Who THE HELL DO I THINK I am!?

I'm a cook who has lived and worked in Columbus most of my life and career.  I've been lucky to stand in some of the coolest kitchens in the city.  I've also been a few places and seen a few things as well.

When I eat out I think critically about the entire experience and especially the food.  I thought that it might be worthwhile to break down why I think that some things work as well as they do to inform and encourage.

The focus here is on a single dish, or experience, not restaurants as a whole.  Though I'm taking a critical look at these things, I'm not interested in criticizing anyone, though there might be a gentle nudge here and there.

There's no editorial staff, so you might find a typo or 10.  Feel free to let me know if you see any errors and I'll do my best to zip them up.

Gregs Pastrami Wings - Challah at woodlands (Columbus, oH)

I know a thing or eight about all manner of fried chicken.  I’ll skip the litany of ways I’ve enjoyed so many crispy fried fowl to avoid descending into a Benjamin Buford “Bubba” Gump like recitation.  Suffice it to say…  I’ve eaten a lot of flaps and drums through the years.  It’s a love affair that bloomed decades ago at a little Ohio State Campus Wing shop that you may or may not have heard of…  BW3. 

I’ve come so far from my love affair with B-dubs curry sauced wings.  (Seriously guys, why’d you ever let them go?)   I’m a jaded culinarian not easily impressed with menu descriptions of “fancy” wings.  As a result, when I run across an interesting preparation that catches my eye it gives me a thrill, especially when they’re offered up by an operator that I know will deliver. 

So… Let me tell you about the enduring thrill of the wings at the Challah Food Truck pop up in the Woodlands Tavern.  Hearing that one of my favorite trucks was taking up residence at Woodlands was extremely exciting as it promised consistent access to my second favorite chicken sandwich in Columbus and very soon after they opened, I queued up to show my support. 

I was distracted, however, by the allure of a menu description I’d never seen before.  Greg’s Pastrami Wings.  First thought; who the hell is Greg?  The options for achieving this alchemy whirled through my head.  A “pastrami” sauce, while probably difficult to nail, would have been the easy way out.  Then again, understanding that Chef Catie Randazzo is apparently  unfamiliar with the easy way,  a pastrami cure then seemed likely.  She explained that she’d teamed up with a friend whos name I assume is Greg to pastrami brine and then smoke the wings.  The brine suffuses the meat with familiar spice and the barest touch of sweetness. 

The time spent in the smoker imparts a lingering whiff of  wood smoke while drying the skin a bit.  In combination with the sugar in the brine and a dip in the fryer, that drying allows the chicken to achieve a sticky yet crisp bite that gives way to cure blushed mildly pink flesh that’s tender and juicy.  There’s a cup of what I’m sure is delicious Russian Dressing that I immediately move out of the way (maybe I’ll dip my potatoes in it next time) and a selection of always excellent Challah pickles.

In my younger days as a lover of chicken wings, it was all about the sauce.  As I grew older and wing making crossed the threshold into more progressive kitchens not afraid to play around with “junk food”, interested cooks manipulated the texture and flavor of wings in different ways yielding incredibly crunchy or incredibly tender sensations.  We discovered the joys of a Korean Style chicken wings alt-starched and double fried.  Wings were being confited in a variety of tasty fats.  Chefs were stuffing macaroni and cheese and all manner of delicious foods into wings.  For an advanced professional eater such as myself, it’s been very exciting.  Let the above written words stand as context so when I say that these are the best wings I’ve ever had in my life, you understand what that means.

You can nom down on these babies at Woodlands Tavern Seven Days a week 1200 W 3rd Ave

Caramelized Sweet Potato - Cosecha Cocina (Columbus, Ohio)

All too often, the vegetarian option(s) at non-vegetarian restaurants can feel like afterthoughts. 

“You know the vegetarians are gonna want to eat something.” 

With a few notable exceptions, it feels as though there is a grilled chicken breast sized hole in many dishes, leaving a little overdressed lettuce and avocado leaning unfulfillingly against one another in the center of a mound of under seasoned quinoa or like protein packed super grain.

It’s for that reason that there’s something incredibly special about well executed ingredient based dishes that have a vegetable at their heart.  When done well, the essence of that ingredient is honored and everything added is for its mounting glory.  It’s perilously easy to blow the balance by adding one component too few or too many.  A good cook is ever in search of the perfect harmony.

There’s a near sterling example of such a dish to be found at the recently opened Grow Restaurants outpost in Italian Village.  There will be many words written regarding Cosecha (Yes, that’s Spanish for Harvest) in the near future, and I’m certain a lot of tweaks made to the food as they settle in; the fryer seemed to be running a bit cool on my visits, leaving a bit more oil in the food than likely intended.

However, I think it will be difficult to surpass what I feel is already a standout dish in a city of many tacos (some might say too many). Chef Silas Caeton has made what I hope is quite a statement of intent of food to come with a humble sweet potato.  The menu does the vegetable the honor of plain description while in no way attempting to fancy up the dish with flowery words.  You’ll get exactly what you order.   Well, nearly, as I’d perhaps take issue with the “caramelized” descriptor.

Every component of the dish stands to edify the sweet potato at its center; sometimes in a surprising way.  The honey, carefully applied, subtly enhances the sweetness of the soft flesh and mimics the missing caramelization.  Obvious crunch and nuttiness come, predictably, from the almonds strewn atop the dish.  Dots of Cloverton Cheese, my favorite of the Laurel Valley Creamery offerings, adds a needed acid kick and richness simultaneously.   I’ll admit to some skepticism upon seeing dry chamomile flowers on a plate.  I crushed one between my fingers wondering if it could possibly have been a good idea to sprinkle dry “tea” on, well, anything save a mug of hot water. 

One bite soothed my concerns.  The next made me a believer.  The dry flowers seemed to have been lightly toasted, imparting a delicate and floral textural crispness to the dish; serving to make the good great without being in anyway overpowering.  This is a dish in which all of the ingredients play their parts, standing up for themselves while making this simple potato more than it likely ever aspired to be.