Passionfruit Cheesecake

I have loved passionfruit from an early age. This is not exactly shocking information, as I have met few who aren't impressed by its intense acidic, almost perfumed flavour. My own love affair began in my grandmother's garden, for there she grew a sizeable passionfruit vine, a luxury that seems too incredible to fathom. Each year she would carefully wait until the fruit had wrinkled enough to show it was at its peak flavour, then she would scoop out the inside, adding ample sugar to further enhance the flavour, and then can it in small glass jars. These we would wrap carefully and pack into our suitcases to come back across the Pacific Ocean, so that when we were looking for a taste of heaven we could add a spoonful to a scoop of simple vanilla ice cream and thus transform it into something worthy of royalty.

I still get excited whenever I see anything with passionfruit flavour, and I have noticed that Mary Berry and Paul Hollywood always give thumbs up to any dessert given to them that contains this marvellous fruit. The only real drawback is its expense - you can't exactly grow it in Scotland, and it is quite pricey if you need the dozen or so fruit required for any recipe.

Sometimes, you just have to treat yourself. My eye had always been caught by a Nigella Lawson recipe in How to be a Domestic Goddess for Passionfruit Cheesecake. I can't say I'm a huge fan of cheesecakes that veer away from the traditional New York variety, but this one seemed to be a guaranteed win: Nigella, cheesecake, passionfruit - three strong points in its favour. So finally I added 10 passionfruit to my online shopping order and waited for them to arrive so I could try it out.

I was all ready except for one thing: the springform tin. I had accidentally left mine at work, so I decided to improvise with a tart tin with a removable base. On went the fake Pam to ensure success in the cheesecake's removal:

And into a bag went some digestives. No graham crackers here, peeps.

After I'd taken out my aggression, they looked like this.

Then in went butter. The recipe didn't call for any sugar, but I usually use some and in retrospect think I should have thrown a tablespoon or so in. Live and learn.

The crumbled mix looked like so.

And into the tin it went, pressed down with the bottom of the glass.

Now, I HAD ordered 10 passionfruits, but my husband saw the bag and thought "oooh, I should have some of my 5 a day!" and stole a couple. He claims I should have told him they were for a recipe. I think he should have actually put away the shopping when it came and should have known that a bag of 10 passionfruit, a quantity I have never come close to purchasing before, would naturally be for a special recipe. Thankfully I only needed 7 for the filling itself, so his hide was saved.

So, so pretty. So, so tasty.

And into the big processor they went. I would have used the smaller bowl, but I can't find its blade right now in my chaotic kitchen of doom.

A quick whirrr and they were looking more juicy and less pulpy.

So I whipped up some cream cheese.

Added some sugar.

Mixed some more.

Then added 3 yolks (one at a time, stressing myself with the separating of eggs)

They made it a bit golden.

Then 3 whole eggs went in too.

And were stirred in at this point as it was getting a bit too bubbly for my liking.

The fruit was strained in with some lime juice.

I realise now I could have just added some bottled passionfruit juice here, as it's not too hard to find here and would have been cheaper and easier (and just as flavourful, I think). Next time.

Now just dive in and drink it all...

NO! Wait, I was kidding! GET OUT OF THERE!

Instead it went into the tart case...and there was waaaaay too much, as it is way shallower than a springform tin, so I made some ramekins and a teacup as well. Once they were in the oven I added boiling water to the pan to make a "bain marie". Who was this Marie, and why did she like baths of boiling water?

After a while, the small ones came out. They wiggled like jelly in the middle at the time of removal - this ensures they don't overcook. And oh, yeah, I kind of messed one up when I took it out. Still tasted fine.

Then their mother came out to cool.

They went in the fridge while my husband went out to buy me more passionfruit and thus prevent our divorce. Once he got back, I carefully removed the cheesecake from the tin, ensuring a perfect finish on the cake.

Err...when in doubt, just throw lots of fresh fruit on top.

No, those aren't frog spawn, they are little pieces of heaven, kids.

AND IT'S MINE!!!!!!!!!!!! ALLL MINE!!!!

I'll add the recipe later, when I can move again.

Creme Brulee

Alas, no photos here.

I've always loved creme brulee, and will always order it if given as an option on a dessert menu, but funnily enough I had never made it. Since my Easter cake recipe left me with 5 yolks, I googled recipes that would use 5 yolks exactly and this one came up. It was very simple, only I made 6 rather than 4 as it seemed a less gluttonous size...oh, and I hadn't read that part of the recipe. I didn't have a blow torch, so I improvised with the lighter we use for the hobs on our stove. It worked well enough.

Here's the recipe for my own records, from here, should I end up with 5 yolks and a lot of cream again:

Ingredients
2 cartons double cream, 1
large (284ml) plus 1 small
(142ml)
100ml full-fat milk
1 vanilla pod
5 large egg yolks
50g golden caster sugar, plus
extra for the topping

1. Preheat the oven to fan 160C/conventional 180C/gas 4. Sit four
175ml ramekins in a deep roasting tin at least 7.5cm deep (or a large
deep cake tin), one that will enable a baking tray to sit well above the
ramekins when laid across the top of the tin. Pour the two cartons of
cream into a medium pan with the milk. Lay the vanilla pod on a board
and slice lengthways through the middle with a sharp knife to split it in
two. Use the tip of the knife to scrape out all the tiny seeds into the
cream mixture. Drop the vanilla pod in as well, and set aside.
2. Put the egg yolks and sugar in a mixing bowl and whisk for 1
minute with an electric hand whisk until paler in colour and a bit fluffy.
Put the pan with the cream on a medium heat and bring almost to the
boil. As soon as you see bubbles appear round the edge, take the pan off the heat.
3. Pour the hot cream into the beaten egg yolks, stirring with a wire
whisk as you do so, and scraping out the seeds from the pan. Set a
fine sieve over a large wide jug or bowl and pour the hot ixture through
to strain it, encouraging any stray vanilla seeds through at the end.
Using a big spoon, scoop off all the pale foam that is sitting on the top
of the liquid (this will be several spoonfuls) and discard. Give the
mixture a stir.
4. Pour in enough hot water (from the tap is fine) into the roasting tin
to come about 1.5cm up the sides of the ramekins. Pour the hot
cream into the ramekins so you fill them up right to the top – it’s easier
to spoon in the last little bit. Put them in the oven and lay a baking
sheet over the top of the tin so it sits well above the ramekins and
completely covers them, but not the whole tin, leaving a small gap at
one side to allow air to circulate. Bake for 30-35 minutes until the
mixture is softly set. To check, gently sway the roasting tin and if the
crème brûlées are ready, they will wobble a bit like a jelly in the
middle. Don’t let them get too firm.
5. Lift the ramekins out of the roasting tin with oven gloves and set
them on a wire rack to cool for a couple of minutes only, then put in
the fridge to cool completely. This can be done overnight without
affecting the texture.
6. When ready to serve, wipe round the top edge of the dishes,
sprinkle 1½ tsp of caster sugar over each ramekin and spread it out
with the back of a spoon to completely cover (Anne Willan’s tip for an
even layer). Spray with a little water using a fine spray (the sort you
buy in a craft shop) to just dampen the sugar – then use a blow torch to caramelise it. Hold the flame just above the sugar and keep moving
it round and round until caramelised. Serve when the brûlée is firm, or
within an hour or two.

Frostbitten Raspberry Cake

Easter has come! I can consume sugar once more!

Maybe not in such intense proportions as just prior to Lent, but I can certainly have a slice of this baby:

I figured to get my sugar kick this Easter I should make a bit of an effort, so went for a recipe I spotted on Pinterest, found here. Mine sure isn't as pretty, but it is the first time I've ever used marscapone and the first time I ever made a white chocolate buttercream AND the first time I've made a "Russian Sponge", something which is nearly meringue in texture by first appearance as there is no fat in it at all - no butter, no yolks, nothin'.

The whole thing is a bit of a faff, something you'll see if you look at the recipe, and I was too busy checking the recipe to take photos at the same time (as I usually use a tablet device to take them, the same tablet that had the recipe on it) so it's just the finished item that you get to see. Poor you.

I did improvise somewhat:

• I baked two layers rather than three and just slicing one in half to make three layers. It seemed to work well enough for us. 
• I boiled off the booze in the liquer syrup (had to use cherry brandy rather than raspberry liquer) so that social services wouldn't come round and ask why I was drugging my 2 year old.
• I used lemon juice rather than water in the raspberry compote, because that's what I do with raspberry coulis
• I added even more fresh raspberries than the recipe requested, because there was room to do so and I had them
• I didn't use gelatin in the mascarpone filling
• I didn't manage to pipe much of the mascarpone filling as mine was too stiff - I burst the ziplock piping bag and ended up using a variety of kitchen utensils to get the darned stuff on the cake. 

Also, the decorations...
"Is that...rosemary...on the cake?!!" my husband asked.

"Yes," I answered, trying to sound like I knew what I was doing. I mean, technically it is edible. "You do get rosemary in cakes, you know," I said, bluffing. Thankfully, my son had my back.

"Yes, you do!" he nodded as he scarfed down his slice.

"Um...ok..." was all my husband could say.

So yeah, maybe leave it off if you make this.

Oh, and when I asked him to look at my creation in the fridge, he said "um, did you know a bunch of them fell off the side?"

"They are artfully placed there, I'll have you know" I answered. Hmph. 

When I had it on Easter day I wasn't too crazy about it, as it was fridge cold and hard to slice. But today I had another sampling at a more pleasant springtime room temperature, and it was much improved. Nice and light and real refreshing. 

If you do make this, wait for a special occasion. As you can see, there are a LOT of directions: 

Frostbitten Raspberry Cake

Author: Julia Frey of Vikalinka

Ingredients

For the Cake

Eggs, room temperature 5 large

Sugar 1 cup

Vanilla 2 tsp.

Flour 1 cup

For the Syrup (for soaking the sponge layers)

Raspberry liqueur ¼ cup

Simple syrup 1/4 cup

For the Mascarpone Cream

Mascarpone 250 gr/ 1 cup

Whipping Cream 250 ml/ 1 cup

Icing Sugar ¼ cup

Vanilla 2 tsp.

For the Raspberry Compote

Raspberries, fresh or frozen (I used frozen)1½ cups

Sugar ½ cup

Lemon juice 2 tbsp.

Fresh Raspberries 1 cup

For the White Chocolate Buttercream

White Chocolate, chopped (not chocolate chips) 5 oz/150 gr

Whipping/Double Cream ¼ cup

Unsalted Butter, softened 4 tbsp.

For decoration

Rosemary sprig1

Raspberries ¼ cup

Icing sugar for dusting

Instructions

For the Cake

1. Preheat the oven to 350F/180C.

2. Grease 3 8" cake pans and line them with parchment paper. (Russian sponge is very delicate so it's important to

use parchment paper for easy removal.)

3. Crack 5 eggs at room temperature to a bowl of a stand mixer and add sugar and vanilla, beat at high speed for 5

minutes until the mixture is pale and triples in volume.

4. Fold in flour through a sifter in 56 additions blending it in gently after each addition. Your goal is to keep the

volume of the egg mixture so be very careful in this step of the process.

5. Divide your cake batter among 3 pans and bake for 2530 minutes until cake tester or tooth pick comes out

clean and the cakes have risen to the top of the pan. (I baked 2 layers and then 1 later).

6. Cool for 10 minutes and then run a knife around the edges of your pans to release the cakes and flip them over

on a wire rack to cool completely.

7. (After your cakes have cooled you can individually wrap them in plastic wrap for later use. You can bake you

sponge layers a day ahead.)

For Raspberry Compote

1. Combine 1½ cups of raspberries and sugar with water in a small saucepan and cook on low heat until thick and

mixture coats the back of a spoon. It will take about 15 minutes.

2. Remove from heat and process in a food processor or a blender until smooth.

3. Push through a fine sieve to get rid of the seeds.

4. Combine the compote with fresh raspberries and set aside.

For the Mascarpone Cream

1. Combine mascarpone, whipping cream, sugar and vanilla 

2. Whip until you can pipe it. 

For the Syrup

1. Combine raspberry liqueur with simple syrup (water and sugar mixed in equal parts).

2. Drizzle over the cake layers. (Russian sponge really benefits from being drizzled with a flavoured syrup since

there is no fat mixed into the batter and it can taste on the dry side without the syrup.)

How to assemble the cake

1. Load your mascarpone cream in a large piping bag with a plain round tip.

2. Pipe a border around the first drizzled with syrup layer, it will keep your raspberry compote from leaking out of

the sides.

3. Fill with half of your raspberry compote. ( It won't cover the entire layer, the berries will be spread sparsely.)

4. Then pipe in the mascarpone cream in the empty spaces and smooth it out with a spatula. You shouldn't have

any gaps.

5. Top with another layer and repeat the process.

6. Finish with the third layer.

For the White Chocolate Buttercream

1. Heat ¼ cream in a saucepan until it just simmers but not boiling.

2. Take off the heat and pour over chopped white chocolate in a medium sized bowl.

3. Let it sit for a couple of minutes and then stir until chocolate is melted into the cream.

4. Cool for 10 minutes and then start whipping in a stand mixer or with a hand mixer. (Hand mixer works better

here because of the small amount).

5. Mix for 10 minutes until light and fluffy, then start adding softened butter by a tablespoon, mix well until entirely

incorporated into the frosting after each addition. (You will have enough frosting for a thin layer around the cake.

If you like more frosting on your cake simply double the recipe but it will make a very sweet cake.)

6. Spread ½ of the buttercream over the cake and let it chill in the fridge for 20 minutes.

7. Coat your chilled cake with the other half of the frosting and decorate with rosemary and raspberries.