As documented in our dr bob cheesecake story, strawberry cheesecake was really the first version we ever made in our early days as amateur chefs (is this the nurse speak "we"?). After some four decades we finally returned to our roots in the northwest corner of Italy for a transplanted Sabaudian cheesecake party looking for a new flavor. Italian strawberries ("fragole") are like many Italian food items, unbelievably tasty. Look at some of them:
So the first step is the parchment paper base, you don't even have to trace it out, you just clamp the springform pan down over it. Notice the Italian Philadelphia in the background, rounded rather than harshly rectangular in the states.
Next the crumb crust, no graham crackers in Italy, so we have to be a little more imaginative.
Batter in, ready to bake. Notice the low profile, a consequence of aging bob's desire for portion control.
Closeup of the inner strawberry in the prep stage, slightly cored, but thoroughly red.
Strawberry prep in progress.
Can you tell bob is fascinated by these berries?
Beginning the cooking phase. They just slowly release their liquid and cook down. Add a tablespoon or two of sugar and lemon juice to taste at the end, depending on how sweet the berries are.
Just out of the oven, relaxed enough for the surface to drop down below the rim border, great for holding in the topping layer. Which covers up the burn marks.
Freshly topped with the super delicious strawberry concoction.
Some leftover strawberry sauce, perfect for gelato topping.
Plated with ugly parchment paper edging ruining the perfect dessert photo, on a wierdly colorful tablecloth.
The end product, one tiny sliver of perfectly cut low profile strawberry cheesecake, intended to give everybody in the large group a taste without overwhelming them as in our signature iconic sketch.
Another food tale ends, why are we so obsessed about kitchen storytelling? Unclear, but harmless, no?