I’m sitting here, struggling with how best to explain to you all why this Japanese version of the burnt basque cheesecake is superior than the original in every single way possible, mentally auditioning all the angles I could cut into this subject that I think is going to change the way you think about cheesecakes in general. How it’s possibly the easiest cheesecake your kitchen-incompetence will ever behold… how it has complexities in its flavors that reminds me of a caramel flan… how its play between temperature and texture is brilliant… how the outer layer is rich yet airy while the center remains creamy and gooey, melting almost instantly around the heat of my tongue… A R-rated story on how cheesecake and ice cream had a baby? I considered that, too.
But it dawned on me that these are all just supporting facts, facts that you will witness, I’ve no doubt, as soon as you make one yourself in your kitchen. What really stands in between you and making this cake is not the certainties, no. It is the doubt, one single doubt really, the only elephant that needs to be removed first and swiftly before everything else could just fall into place. Because I know what you’re all thinking. Here, I’ll say it with you.
Isn’t this just an undercooked mistake?
No, no it is not. It is fucking not.
Is soft-boiled egg a mistake?
There. I don’t know how much simpler I could put it.
Now, welcome to the only cheesecake you’ll ever bake for the rest of your life.
if cheesecake and ice cream had a baby.