Chocolate cheesecake to nurse you back to life

The perfect treat for home quarantine.

I recently had my second go-around of 2020 breakout star Covid-19, which meant I was stuck at home for eight long days while the virus galavanted through my system. All thing considered, I was pretty lucky — my only true setback was a vicious sore throat and an unrelenting bout of FOMO as I watched my friends gather for meals, game nights, and other multi-human things. Listen, I enjoyed the down time, but I’m not sure coughing in bed can compete with going to Beyoncé’s Los Angeles birthday concert.

After five days of quarantine and loneliness, I decided I deserved some joy, specifically in the form of chocolate. I could’ve made another snacking cake or maybe some ice cream, but what I found myself truly craving was an old favorite recipe from my childhood: chocolate cheesecake.

Let me explain.

Back in the ‘80s, there was such a thing as the Scholastic Book Club — quite possibly the most exciting thing that ever happened to reading.  About once a season (maybe more, maybe less — because what is time when you’re 8 years old, marveling at dinosaurs?), our homeroom teacher would hand out bright yellow catalogs full of book titles, courtesy of the Scholastic corporation.  I’d pore over it for hours and hours, circling my selections and hoping Mom and Dad would agree to fund my vision for literary advancement.  Eventually this all culminated in the Scholastic Book Fair — a truly glorious event wherein the school library would be transformed into something of a bazaar.  Piles of fresh, new books filled table after table.  Not only could we claim our previously ordered books, but we could tug on our parents’ sleeves and request all sorts of new and interesting titles.  Or at least that’s how I recall it.  I’m not sure if this still goes on at school, but it was honestly one of my favorite days of the entire year.

I don’t remember many of the books I took home on those days, but one has stayed with me:  a thin, curious little cookbook called Chocolate Heaven.  It seemed like a sensible choice at the time:  I loved chocolate, and I saw no need for any other ingredient in a cookbook. As such, this seemed like an appropriate step forward in my life.

I never really made much from the book.  The few things I did whip up were only okay.  Let’s face it:  this was not Julia Child. It was just… child.  This was a kid’s cookbook with simplistic recipes meant for bake sale glory.  But then I encountered a recipe for mini chocolate cheesecakes.  Despite being ranked a 3-chocolate chip recipe (the highest difficulty level), I felt compelled to make these. The pitch was simple: press graham cracker crust into a muffin tin and fill with batter. Cook, chill, and voila - six lil’ cheesecakes.

With the help of a wooden spoon and a father who knew how to use the stove, I sprung into action.  And by “sprung into action,” I probably let my dad do most of the measuring, but dammit, I mixed!  Let’s not prolong this any further:  these mini chocolate cheesecakes were ABSURDLY good.  So good that I later tripled the recipe and made enough for dessert at Grandma Sylvia’s Rosh Hashanah dinner.  Everyone was gobsmacked.  This was a winning recipe.

The only downside was that the mini cheesecakes were kind of a drag to make (and share).  All those tiny crusts and liners and muffin tins — it was annoying.  After maybe one or two more batches of the mini version, I finally decided to pour the whole batter into one normal sized pie shell.  The transition was seamless.  Who needs minis when you can have a biggie?

First rule of melting chocolate: make it look like a butt.

The chocolate cheesecake continued to be my go-to recipe over the years; although, to be fair it was also my ONLY recipe until about 2005. Either way, I’ve made it so much so that it remains one of the very few recipes that I know by heart.  Whether it was high school, college, or as an adult in Los Angeles, the chocolate cheesecake recipe never changed.  It’s honestly a winner — and so simple.

Now, just so everyone is prepared: this isn’t a pretty cheesecake. It looks quite literally like a plate of mud (or worse). I once brought it to a potluck and was shocked as literally everyone avoided it. Was it really that ugly? The answer was yes. But it just meant more leftovers for me.

Of course, now that I’m older and wiser and have more baking experience under my belt, I’m aware that we can make this cake look prettier. Use a bain-marie to avoid cracking; use room temp ingredients to avoid white specks of cream cheese; press the graham cracker crust into a tall springform for a dramatic appearance; top with whipped cream or, dare I say it, raspberries (I hate raspberries).

But in some ways I think all this goes against the charm of this recipe. This is a no-fuss, truly NBD cheesecake. It’s not about being precious; it’s about generating maximum decadence with minimal effort. Do we really care if there are cracks on the surface as we sneak a slice at 12:05 AM? No, we don’t. And trust me, you will be doing that.

So here’s the chocolate cheesecake in all its lo-fi glory.  Gussy it up if you wish, or just do what it takes to get it from bowl to oven to fridge.  Those who do take a gamble on this humble dessert will be rewarded handsomely by a luxuriously smooth texture and a perfectly rich, chocolatey, and slightly tangy flavor. 

Happily, I’ve finished my Covid journey. I can probably credit Paxlovid for getting me over the sore throat hump, but I think we all know the real medicine here was this late night chocolate cheesecake for 1.

There were cracks. I survived.

Ben’s Chocolate Cheesecake from Childhood

Ingredients

8oz (227g) brick of cream cheese (room temp ideally, but not essential)

1/3 cup (73g) granulated sugar

6oz (170g) chocolate (semisweet chocolate chips are fine or go luxe with some nice bittersweet 60% cacao bars)

1 tbs butter (optional)

2 large eggs

1 store-bought graham cracker or Oreo crust (or make your own, but I really don’t think it’s necessary)

8oz (227g) vanilla yogurt (not Greek)

1 tsp vanilla extract

The Steps:

1. Preheat to 350° F

2. Using a stand mixer, handheld mixer or just a whisk, mix the cream cheese and sugar until thoroughly combined. Room temp cream cheese makes this easier.

3. Add the two eggs and mix until combined.

4. Melt the chocolate (microwave, double boiler - however you want to do it) Melt butter into the chocolate if using. Let it cool for about 1 minute.

5. Add the chocolate, stirring constantly so it doesn’t scramble the eggs (or solidify in the eggs).

6. Add vanilla yogurt and vanilla extract.  Stir stir stir.

7. Pour the batter into the pie crust.

8. Bake until rising around the edges and still jiggly in the center, 25-30 min.  You may have cracks - it’s literally fine.

9. Let it cool on a rack for about 60 min.

10. Cover and put cake in the fridge for several more hours.  I’m going to give the dreaded “six hours to overnight” suggestion. (I know — who wants to wait that long??) Serve cold and serve often.