A Finger in Every Pie

Oh The Cleverness of Me: Double-Apricot Cheesecake Bars

"How clever I am!" he crowed rapturously, "oh, the cleverness of me!"
               - J.M. Barrie, Peter Pan

Forgive me.  I need a little something to crow about, even if it's something as silly as simply having feathered the apricot cheesecake bars.  I've never done it before, you see.  And it's now clear to me that it's one of those tricks that will make other people behave as if I'd just made them Pierre Hermé's Plaisir Sucré, instead of simply a batch of bar cookies.  Very worthwhile, in that case. 

I know I abandoned this space for more than three weeks.  And my chum Bakerina says that recently married people are allowed some space for blogbandonment.  But I wish it were because we'd been off honeymooning in some fabulously other realm.  My school's secretary and I have this running joke about how, at times, we'd rather be Elsewhere.   Well, it's going to be a while before G and I get to Elsewhere.  It's been a gruelling few weeks -- and there's no real light at the end of this tunnel, at least not for the next month or so. 

After the glory of our May 12th family wedding-sorta-type-party was over (and it was glorious, and I do have a lovely treasured family heirloom paté recipe for you which was one of the highlights of the buffet, much to the caterer's chagrin, since I made and brought it myself, but that's another story), regular life resumed with a bit of a vengeance. 

Suffice it to say that both G's and my work/school schedules have made it impossible to do much else except for occasional family obligations.  My school is prepping our first 10th grade class for NY State Regents exams, and I've been called down from my perch of professional development specialist and am teaching 8 periods of cranky 10th graders a day.  I'll show them cranky.  In addition, my admin program is drawing to a close, and the requirements are getting ever more stressful.  I'm not sure, at this point, that I'll make it to the finish line with all my work in tow.   I won't say more about this program and its requirements until I have my little certificate safely in hand, for fear of being dooced (or its equivalent for the schoolplace rather than the workplace).  In addition to all my work and school stress,  G's production workshop is moving, he's behind on orders for his business, and has a massive amount of freelance computer work to complete before the end of the month.  So yes, overworked, underpaid -- but still here.

Still, we did some work and play this weekend.  It was lovely to have three days off, and we made a stab at some cleaning and reorganizing of our lair, which had settled into a rather atrocious state.  And I found time to get up early and bake for my last grad class tomorrow.  Brownies, with and without nuts, and a new venture -- double apricot cheesecake bars.  A nutmeg-scented butter cookie crust, a vanilla bean cheesecake batter, and swirls of last season's homemade apricot curd from the freezer, as well as June Taylor's fabulous apricot sauce (hence the two tones of apricot).  Even if I don't finish the admin program, they'll remember me for my baked goods.

Double Apricot Cheesecake Bars

You could substitute any fruit curd here, and/or any tart jam or fruit sauce.  My recommendation would be to stay with something pretty tangy, since you want the contrast of the sweet vanilla-bean cheesecake and the sharp fruit flavor.  Berries or any fresh fruit are a lovely garnish. 

Crust Ingredients:
Scant 1/2 cup sugar
10 tablespoons unsalted butter, softened
1 1/2 cups a.p. flour
1/2 tsp. kosher salt
1/2 tsp. freshly grated nutmeg

Filling Ingredients:
1 lb. cream cheese
1/2 cup sugar
2 tsp. Madagascar vanilla bean paste
3 eggs
1/2 cup sour cream
1 Tbsp. a.p. flour
1/4 tsp. kosher salt

Swirl:
1 cup apricot curd
1/4 cup apricot sauce

Preheat oven to 350°F.  For crust, combine 1/2 cup sugar and butter in large bowl. Beat at medium speed until creamy. Reduce speed to low; add flour, salt and nutmeg. Beat until well mixed. (Mixture will be crumbly.) Press crust mixture onto bottom of greased, foil-lined 13x9-inch baking pan. Bake for 15 to 17 minutes.

Meanwhile, combine all filling ingredients in the same bowl.  Beat at medium speed, scraping the bowl quite often, until mixture is creamy. 

Spread half of the filling over the hot, partially baked crust; using about two-thirds of the apricot curd, lay thick stripes of it over the cheesecake filling. Carefully spoon over the rest of the cheesecake batter, covering the curd as much as possible.  Spoon alternating horizontal stripes of apricot curd and apricot sauce over the cheesecake batter  (a squeeze bottle would have been great here, but I didn't have one).  Use a knife to carefully feather a vertical lines through the apricot stripes, running in alternating directions.  Put the whole shebang in the oven, and continue baking for 28 to 33 minutes or until set. Cool completely, and even give it a couple of hours in the fridge if you have the patience. Cut into bars with wet knife, store refrigerated -- you know the drill.  These should keep for at least four or five days, but they're at their best in the second day or so. 

A Little Something

If you're a person who's accustomed to cooking for family and friends and colleagues, there's something about weddings and their associated parties that can make you feel a little bit helpless.  Especially if you're the bride.  In some ways, it's out of your hands.  You may participate in menu decisions, but it's not quite the same.  People nod sagely over your head -- after all, you're in love, you're bedazzled with everything that's going on, you're in no shape to make any choices about any of this.  Or so people treat you, much of the time.

Recently we went for a site visit to the beautiful house in Connecticut where, next Saturday, we will have what we're calling our "family party", a belated reception for about 60 members of our families (this will be complete with a slightly bastardized ceremony, since we are already safely married -- for two whole weeks as of today, mind you).  The caterers were there, as was my close friend, who's doing flowers, decoration and basically managing the whole event.  G and I arrived for the site visit somewhat late, and the caterer and my friend were out on the patio talking.  I came out to join them.  "So what do you think?" I asked.   "We've got it all figured out," they told me.  "You don't need to worry about a thing."  "Right, I'm just the bride, after all," I said huffily.  "Exactly,"  they said.   

Several weeks ago, my bridal shower took place.  It was a gorgeous, lovingly catered tea, with scones and sandwiches, fruit and cheese and vegetable platters, and gorgeous mini-pastries.  I didn't lift a finger.  In fact, I was late.   I breezed in in my flouncy purple silk dress and was the center of attention for a couple of hours.  I loved every second of it -- but it did feel more than a little strange, not to be cooking or helping or serving or doing much of anything except having others dote on me.   I'm not used to it, frankly.

Our private wedding ceremony in my father's apartment, with just 10 people present, and our cocktail party the next day, with a cast of about 50, would have to be just a tiny bit different, I thought.  I needed to mark the territory in some small way.  Our wedding supper had been taken out of my hands by my in-laws, as mentioned in my cupcake post.  And our cocktail party, hosted the next day by my brother and sister-in-law, would also be hands-off for me -- almost. 

"Let's bring champagne up to Dad's house for right after the ceremony," I said to G.  "I mean, it's not going to take that long, and then we can have some champagne and some little nibbles before we go to the restaurant."  I had a plan up my sleeve.  There was something I could still provide for my wedding day -- some little bites to go with the champagne, not enough to spoil dinner, but just "a little something."  Salted Marcona almonds,  I thought, they're perfect with champagne -- not knowing that by some strange twist of fate, I would need to go to three stores to find them -- and wouldn't find them until a few hours before the ceremony.  But by then my heart was set on Marconas, and no other almonds would do.  Thank you, Zabar's.  Moist French dried apricots, stuffed with a bit of goat cheese and wrapped in prosciutto would be my next treat; a sweet-salty counterpoint is nice with the bubbly, too.  And then my secret weapon -- the groom's favorite -- little savory cheese cookies, known in my childhood as "cheese dollars."

So amidst all the insanity of getting ready to actually tie the knot, I managed to whip up some hors d'oeuvres.  Cutting apricots in half and pushing a smudge of goat cheese in them and then wrapping them with a ribbon of prosciutto is easy, although more time-consuming than you might think.  But the dough for the cheese dollars was a breeze, and baking them off was a snap.  I even made extra some extra rolls of dough and stashed them in the fridge. 

Once we'd said our "I dos" -- and what I like even more, our "with this ring, I thee wed", it was time to relax with champagne, before going here for dinner.  The cheese dollars were a big hit, not only with the groom, but with the one who gave me away -- my darling dad.  He'd been pleased as punch for days, because his lily amaryllis, which had been dormant for at least a decade, burst into huge, bright red trumpets a couple of days before the ceremony.  He was perseverating on those flowers -- until he tasted the cheese dollars, which then became his idée fixe for the rest of the evening.  I promised I'd make him more -- and that he wouldn't need to wait for a wedding to have them again. 

After family toasts and our beautiful wedding supper, we were off to a fairy tale mini-honeymoon evening at The London NYC Hotel (the gift of the same friend who threw my shower, is doing my flowers for next week, and gave me her mother's antique gold bracelet as yet another gift.  Everyone should have such a friend).  We lolled around our suite which had been kitted out with champagne and strawberries, and the next morning a full English breakfast was sent up by Gordon Ramsay's kitchen.   We had ourselves a lazy day, lounging in bed for hours, walking in Central Park, and finally realized that we should check out and go home to dress for our cocktail party. 

"I've got just enough time,"  I thought.  I was flitting about the wreck of our apartment, wearing nothing but one of G's shirts and a pair of gigantic thick wool ski socks under my pointy gold-lamé sling-backs, hoping to stretch them out a little more.   Another batch of cheese dollars was baking for me to bring to the cocktail party, and I stopped for a minute to sew a broken strap on the bag my cousin had loaned me (my "something borrowed").  G came upon me in this state.  "Wow.  You're baking my favorite cheese dollars AND sewing, wearing my shirt and high heels.  You look adorable.  I love you." he said, kissing me.  "I love you, too," I said.  "So for the moment, I'll permit you your little fantasy that this sort of domestic interlude is what marriage is going to be all about.  After all, we're still in the first 24 hours."

Savory Cheese Dollars

• < 30 mins Snacks
• Cheese Snacks
• Picnic Snacks
• High Calcium Snacks

You can use any cheese in this -- I just love the combination of aged cheddar and hard Italian grating cheeses.

4 oz. unsalted butter
10 oz. good aged cheddar cheese (we use Cabot), diced or grated
1/4 cup grated Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese
1/4 cup grated Pecorino Romano cheese
1 cup all purpose flour
1/4 tsp.  salt
1/4 tsp. freshly ground black pepper
pinch freshly grated nutmeg
pinch cayenne pepper

Place the butter and cheeses in a food processor fitted with the middle blade, and process until combined.  Whisk together the flour, salt, peppers and nutmeg.  Add to the food processor, and blend just until a dough is formed.  Scrape the dough onto plastic wrap or waxed paper, and refrigerate for about an hour, until it firms up a little.  Then form it into three cylinders, each an inch in diameter.  Wrap each roll tightly in plastic or waxed paper, and chill until very firm (at this point the dough can also be frozen for up to 3 months -- probably longer.  Other recipes say that this sort of  dough lasts for 3 days in the fridge, 3 months in the freezer.  I'll say that I've kept it in the fridge for considerably longer than three days, and then baked it off with brilliant results.  But I like to live dangerously). 

When you're ready to bake, preheat your oven to 425 F.  Slice the dough cylinders in 1/4 inch slices, and arrange them nicely on parchment-lined baking sheets, about 1/2 inch apart (I don't always obey that rule, either.  Good thing the judge didn't have that "obey" word in the wedding vows.  For either of us).  If the dough is frozen, you'll need to take it out for a few minutes and let it defrost just slightly before you slice it. 

Bake for 10 -15 minutes, depending on your oven.  Rotate the baking sheets top to bottom and back to front after the first five minutes or so, and check on the browning.  When perfectly golden brown, let them cool for a minute on baking sheets and then remove with a little angled spatula to cool on wire racks. 

These are delicious warm, but are excellent as well at room temperature.  They're also good several days after baking, when the cheese flavor develops even more.