Last night, my boyfriend and I went to an event, Art Mix, at the Crocker Art Museum where they featured the highlighted exhibit of the season, Andy Warhol. The night was full of interactive art, food, music, an intimate and up-close tour of Warhol's portraits, and drinking. LOTS of drinking. Now, I'm not a drinker and that being said, I get tipsy very easily so I stuck to my couple glasses of wine and lots of water in between. I just didn't want to view the exhibit when I couldn't give it my full attention.
The event was amazing and I danced in public for the first time, didn't care who was watching, and just got caught up in the music! Day 1 of following my bliss seemed like a hit. THEN, I get home and as I mentioned, still a little tipsy, decided to bake a cheesecake for my roommate and her family since they were visiting this weekend. It seemed like a sweet gesture and doubled as a thank you for all the times she's fed the cat I'm supposed to be cat sitting full-time.
I don't consider myself a pro baker at all. BUT I do enjoy it and have gotten pretty good at it. I've also made quite a few cheesecakes and thought nothing of this time....if things went smoothly.
First, I didn't have spring form pan so I decided to use cake tins, since it was late and all and I didn't want to go hunting in other grocery stores to find one. Second, I didn't have a hand mixer and wasn't around my very trusty and efficient Kitchen Aid stand mixer. Did I also mention that it was already close to midnight? For those of you who don't know, cheesecakes are incredibly thick and difficult to whisk by hand and baking time is technically up to 2 hours. The first hour is spent actually baking in the oven, then the second hour is spent tempering in the oven with the heat off. It doesn't end here. To maintain creamy goodness, the cheesecake has to cool down to room temp to be refrigerated OVERNIGHT. Yea, I don't know what I was thinking either. I actually kind of realized what I was doing about two o'clock in the morning when I was falling asleep.
Since I was in a state that no one should bake in, I left the oven on for both hours instead of one, and well, we now have a cheesecake in the consistency of tofu. At least it smells good.
After my realization, I cried to my boyfriend about how I ruined the cheesecake. Actually crying. In his slumber, he consoles me to the best of his ability and I go back to finish cleaning and went to sleep. I woke up and looked at my cheesecake. For the purpose of not having to constantly write "cheesecake" let's call it Bob. Bob is a cracked, brown, and sunken in. EVERYTHING YOU DON'T WANT BOB TO BE.
I don't know if I'm still riding high on summer bliss or if I cried everything out last night, but I felt oddly calm. Normally, I'd trash the thing and poor Bob would be in the garbage can and I'd be starting allll over again. Well, not this time. Bob has taught me a few things.
1. Fail happens.
2. Failure is an honest snapshot of that moment in time.
3. Failure doesn't reflect who you are. (I'm actually a great baker. Photos to follow as proof.)
4. Failure shows who your true and trusted few are.
5. Failure can be funny.
Now, as I sit here with a slice of Bob, I can't help but laugh about it and Bob tastes great! I can't really rag on myself with cream cheesey goodness in my mouth anyway. To many more failures and many more successes! Cheers!
Baking photos as promised.
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