Saturday, August 30, 2008

Limoncello Cheesecake Squares with Rosemary Sugar

















I recently came into the ownership of a very fine Limited-Edition Cuisinart. It delightfully came well equipped with grating, slicing, breadkneading and whipping attachments and quite serendipitously matches all the large appliances in my kitchen with its streamlined stainless-steel exterior. In search of recipes that would allow for me to crumble, grind, and pulverize (à la Mme. Cuisinart) my way to a tasty summer dessert, I found this one for Limoncello Cheesecake Squares, which I outfitted to my own needs and desires.

As I foolishly decided to finish the 3rd hour of The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford, before beginning the cheesecake, my memory of the process is a bit blurred both by the approaching 1 o’clock hour and that third glass of Pinot Grigio. But after a day of refrigeration the recipe turned out to be quite successful.

I started with Trader Joe’s almond biscotti, and begrudgingly substituted the Limoncello with a simple syrup of lemon juice, zest and sugar as my neighborhood liquor store had nothing resembling a citrus liqueur. I also wanted to top the squares with something unusual that would compliment the brightness of the lemon. As my lavender plant refuses to produce any flowers I was left to choose between rosemary and basil, but went with the former for its piney aroma and savory contribution. Simply process a scant ½ cup of sugar with a handful of rosemary leaves.

((Be advised the baking time for me went at least 15 minutes over in order to produce that golden center which, if your eyelids aren’t sagging while you reprimand yourself for not beginning at a reasonable hour, shouldn’t be a problem.))
http://www.foodnetwork.com/recipes/giada-de-laurentiis/limoncello-cheesecake-squares-recipe2/index.html

Beginning

Since its inauguration into the World Wide Web I have found myself questioning what this thing called a “blog” is all about. Some sort of internet diary or bulletin board in the era of any-and-everyone-can-be-published, it seemed self-indulgent and brimming on narcissistic to relay the events of one’s life to the general public under the assumption that someone out there was just dying to hear that you just purchased your very own garlic press or finally made the switch over to reusable grocery bags.

But as my usually lovely and rarely fast-paced job affords me ample time for my own disposal, I more often than not find myself doing this very thing—browsing through "published" journals of political satire, celebrity gossip, country living, and recipe experimentation. I have no intention of dedicating my bloggage to one thing specifically, but hope to investigate a handful of activities including but not limited to cookery, art, urbanity, and the more interesting or ridiculous aspects of the human condition.