Roasted Root Vegetables

We have a very large tupperware at our house. It holds about 26 cups of stuff (in the past it has stored chex mix, pasta salad, and fruit salad). It currently sits in our refrigerator, taking up way too much space, with a big heap of roasted root vegetables in it.

To say that I like roasted root vegetables would be an understatement. To say that I like to make a lot of roasted root vegetables would also be an understatement. More than stuffing, carrot ring, and cranberry sauce, I look forward to these roasted vegetables on the Thanksgiving table. Forget about mashed potatoes; at our house, roasted root vegetables are king.

(I wonder how many times the phrase "roasted root vegetables" has been used in the span of seven sentences. My apologies for the lack of phrase variation.)

Mass quantities of roasted root vegetables = heaven.

Anyway, one of my favorite things about this recipe is that it's really more of a method than precise instructions. Once you learn the technique, you can craft dozens of different variations with all kinds of vegetables. This year, our mix included carrots, parsnips (my favorite of the bunch), sweet potatoes, fingerling potatoes, butternut squash, pearl onions, and cremini mushrooms. However, Brussels sprouts, rutabagas, beets, and even celery, which takes on a wonderful savory flavor when roasted, would also be delicious.

I chop furiously. It's kinda fun.

The real wild card in the dish is the roasted garlic and herb mixture that gets mixed in at the very end. Smashed roasted garlic gets tossed with a heap of fresh parsley and rosemary (other woody herbs like sage and thyme also taste great) and added to the melange right before serving. The sweetness of the roasted garlic, along with the fresh herb flavor, really elevates the more humble vegetables and takes them from delicious to absolutely fabulous. Without a doubt this is my favorite thing to eat during the holidays (and a good thing because I made enough to last until Christmas).
Roasted Root Vegetables

You can prepare this dish early in the day if you like. Just cover the roasted vegetables. When you are ready to serve them, warm them in an oven and top them with the garlic-herb mixture. If you prefer, you can peel the root vegetables, but I love the texture (and nutrition) that the peels provide. As I said before, you can substitute or add in other root vegetables if you like. Just be sure to cut them into similarly-sized pieces. If you choose to add beets, rutabagas, or celery, cook them along with the root vegetables. If you choose to add Brussels sprouts, halve or quarter them and cook alongside the mushrooms and onions. We use a large disposable aluminum roasting pan (the kind you'd use to roast a turkey) for the root vegetables. It's very important both to season the vegetables liberally and to toss them every 15 or so minutes so that they cook evenly (this is a lot of vegetables we're talking about here). We cook the vegetables using our oven's "convection roast" setting. If your oven doesn't have this setting, roast at the same temperature, keeping in mind that it may take longer for the vegetables to cook through. To ensure even cooking, just toss every 15 minutes until they are tender.

Yield: an insanely large amount; at least 20 servings

2 pounds carrots
2 pounds parsnips
2 large sweet potatoes
2 pounds fingerling potatoes
1 medium butternut squash, peeled and seeded
1/2 pound cremini mushrooms
2 (10-ounce) bags of pearl onions
10-12 cloves of garlic, unpeeled
Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper
Olive oil
Large handful of fresh parsley
2-3 sprigs of fresh rosemary

Adjust two oven racks to the upper and lower middle positions and preheat the oven to 400 degrees F. Cut the carrots, parsnips, sweet potatoes, fingerling potatoes, and butternut squash into 3/4-inch to 1-inch pieces. It's important that the root vegetables be close to the same size so that they cook at the same rate. Place in a large roasting pan and set aside.

Halve or quarter the mushrooms and place on a foil-lined half-sheet pan. Meanwhile, bring a medium saucepan of water to a boil. When it has reached a bowl, drop in one of the bags of pearl onions. Cook for 1 minute. Drain in a colander and run cold water over the onions to cool them down. Using a paring knife, peel the outer layer off the pearl onions and add to the half-sheet pan with the mushrooms. Repeat with the second bag of pearl onions. Add the unpeeled garlic cloves to the half-sheet pan, too.

Lightly drizzle the root vegetables with olive oil and season liberally with salt and pepper. (You can also spray them with nonstick cooking spray and achieve the same result.) Toss the vegetables with your hands to ensure they are sufficiently and evenly seasoned. Repeat with the mushrooms and onions.

Place the roasting pan of root vegetables on the lower middle rack of the oven and roast for 15 minutes. After 15 minutes have passed, carefully and quickly toss the vegetables with a large spoon. Roast for another 15 minutes and toss again.

After the root vegetables have been roasting for 30 minutes (they will have been tossed twice), place the mushrooms and onions in the oven on the upper middle rack. Roast for 15 minutes and again toss both the root vegetables and mushroom-onion mix.

Roast for a final 15 minutes, or until the root vegetables are browned and fork tender. The mushrooms will be browned (and shrunken) and the onions will also have taken on some color. Remove all the vegetables from the oven and let cool while you prepare the garlic-herb mixture.

Finely chop both the parsley and rosemary and place into a small dish. Peel and mash the roasted garlic and add to the herb mixture. Mix the herbs and garlic together.

Transfer the vegetables to a serving platter, add the garlic-herb mixture, and toss to incorporate everything together. Serve hot.

The Rogovin Family Stuffing

Let's talk about stuffing. Or, rather, dressing. I think some people take the difference between the two terms very seriously, but in our house, even though the only thing it stuffs is our bellies, it's always been stuffing.

For the past two years, I've been dying to make a homemade stuffing. I dreamed of toasted cubes of artisanal breads, sauteed wild mushrooms, buttered leeks, and woodsy rosemary and sage. Despite the deliciousness of the stuffing that we have made every year since I can remember, I was fully willing to cast it aside for a "foodier" (a word I just made up meant to signify more "foodie"-like; reminds me of "truthiness," but I digress...) recipe. You see, we use the Pepperidge Farms stuffing cubes in our recipe. Unfortunately, my food snob mentality had me believing that the entire product was pre-made (like that jiggly cranberry mold that comes from the can) and therefore unacceptable on our Thanksgiving table.

And then, a revelation.

Like so many things on this great earth of ours, the revelation came from Ina Garten. I was watching a Thanksgiving episode of hers, and she made stuffing with the same Pepperidge Farm stuffing cubes that we do! If it's good enough for Ina, it's certainly good enough for me. (I did not, however, approve of her serving cupcakes for Thanksgiving dessert. Really, Ina? I know it wasn't her actual Thanksgiving dinner, but the thought is unsettling enough.) Gosh, I am such a food snob.

Anyway, this recipe is so delicious that I've convinced my mom that we need to make two pans to keep up with people's demands for it. The recipe below makes only one pan and that will certainly be enough if you don't have ravenous stuffing-philes in your home.

Unlike many stuffing recipes, this one contains no meat and no butter. It does contain savory mushrooms and celery, which are moistened with chicken stock and baked with those bread cubes into a tried and true stuffing that is just as delicious covered in gravy, on a turkey sandwich, or completely unadorned (my preference). You would never guess that ingredients this simple could make something so incredibly scrumptious.
Rogovin Family Stuffing

You can assemble the stuffing early in the day (or the night before) and refrigerate it, covered in aluminum foil, until you are ready to bake it. The oven temperature and baking time are pretty flexible. We bake the stuffing at 325 because it cooks along with the more delicate carrot ring. However, you could increase the baking temperature and decrease the time accordingly to suit your baking schedule. Just look for visual cues that the stuffing is done: a moist interior and crunchy top layer.

Yield: 10-12 servings

8 ounced cremini mushrooms, coarsely chopped into 1/2-inch pieces
5 stalks of celery, diced into 1/2-inch pieces
2 1/2 cups of chicken stock
1 bag of Pepperidge Farm herbed stuffing cubes

Adjust an oven rack to the upper-middle position and preheat the oven to 325 degrees F. In a large bowl, mix mushrooms and celery with chicken stock. Add stuffing cubes and toss to coat. Pour into a 9-by-13-inch pan. Bake for 45 minutes to an hour, until the top is golden and toasty. Serve hot.

On Thanksgiving

Less than 48 hours from now, I will be baking up a storm, most likely covered in flour, cinnamon, and thick cheesecake batter. Our (smallish) kitchen will be in disarray, and I'll be telling my mom, "Don't worry, I'm going to clean it up later." The (incredibly annoying) whir of the ice cream maker will tune out the Food Network playing in the background. It will smell like fresh apples and nutmeg.

That's a nice picture, isn't it? My love for Thanksgiving, my absolute favorite holiday, is pretty much summed up in that the above scenario is not only completely enticing for me but also incredibly relaxing. There is no place that I'd rather be on the fourth Thursday of November than in the kitchen with my mom, cooking the many dishes that will grace our table. (Another way to gauge my love for Thanksgiving: it's the only non-school day of the year that I voluntarily wake up before 8 o'clock. So many things to make and so little time means you have to start early!)

For the most part, our main menu remains pretty similar from year to year, but it's always comforting to actually go through the process of detailing everything we'll make. This year we are having six for dinner (my mom, dad, and I, plus my Chinese roommate Chen and my grandparents). Since normally it's only four for dinner (my mom, dad, sister, and I), having an extra two is somewhat of a justification for making so much delicious food.

I'm fully committed to documenting the whole process of putting together our meal this year, but in the meantime, here's a preview of what's on the main menu....

Turkey and Gravy: This year we - actually, my dad - are roasting the whole bird. The turkey and gravy has been his domain for as long as I can remember. I see no reason to mess with what works.
Stuffing: We doctor up Pepperidge Farms stuffing cubes and always make sure to make a double batch. Even though we make two pans, the stuffing is always the first thing to go.
Green Beans with Toasted Walnuts and Dried Cherry Vinaigrette: For as long as I could remember, we had tender-crisp French string beans with buttered slivered almonds. Last year we broke out of that routine with a delicious green bean dish with walnuts and a lemon vinaigrette. I saw this recipe in Bon Appetit and thought, Why not? It's already received rave reviews on a blog that I read.
Roasted Root Vegetables: The ho-hum name of this dish does not even come close to measuring its awesomeness or how much I love it. I would be perfectly content with a big bowl of roasted root vegetables for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. I take my roasted vegetables seriously, and after a few years of tweaking with ingredients, I finally have the recipe down. Stay tuned on this front.
Carrot Ring: A family favorite. I cannot wait to eat this. It only comes around once a year, so I do my best to savor every bite.
Three Types of Cranberries: Yes, we love cranberries in our household. I love having a variety because it allows you to experience different textures and flavors so that nothing gets boring. The first type is a cranberry relish that is completely raw. My mom has been making it for years and it wouldn't be Thanksgiving without it. The second is a cranberry conserve from Ina Garten that we've also been making for years now. It's a more traditional style of cranberry sauce, but it's better than anything you can get out of a can. The third rendition pays homage to cranberry jelly, or the stuff that plops out of a can with ridges still intact. My dad loves the canned stuff, but he was the only one who ate it. Last year I made a homemade version and it was absolutely wonderful (and beautiful!).
Applesauce: I prefer my applesauce very simple and not too sweet, which, with the cranberries, complements the more savory side dishes incredibly well.
Rolls and Butter: Alas, not homemade this year. One day....

But enough about the main meal, let's get to the good stuff. If you know me (or have been reading this blog for a while), you know that I think very long and hard about desserts. I'm notoriously fickle when it comes to choosing what sweets to make. But I can't help it, and when the stakes are raised as high as they are on Thanksgiving (a holiday revolving around food), the pressure is really on to make the best possible desserts. (Note that we'll be having eight for dessert, hence the large spread.)

Pecan Pie: It's my grandpa's favorite. I'm also totally psyched (not psyched out) for making homemade pie crust this year.
Pumpkin Cheesecake: My favorite homemade cheesecake. It's another thing that I only eat once a year, if that often, so it's really special when I do.
Apple Bread Pudding with Rum Raisins: I really wanted to make a bread pudding recipe and somehow incorporate sauteed apples into it. I searched for weeks for a recipe and had a few hopefuls. Like so many things, the answer was right under my nose. Deb at Smitten Kitchen, a blog that I adore and have read for years, has a recipe that was just what I had in mind. (The rum raisins are our idea, though. Gotta love rum raisins.)
Pear Crisp: At first I suggested a spice cake with caramelized pears, but my mom was worried it would be too much bread. Fair enough. She had a fruit crisp in mind, and since apples were already utilized in the bread pudding, my thoughts naturally went to pears. We're going to use an America's Test Kitchen recipe, so I'm confident it will be delicious (and foolproof).
Autumn Spiced Ice Cream: The minute I saw this recipe (back in September), I knew we would make it for Thanksgiving. Katie tried it out a few weeks ago and gave positive feedback. The only downside to making homemade ice cream at Thanksgiving is how intensely irritating the noise is that the ice cream machine makes.

Because Georgia Tech has classes all the way until Wednesday, I won't be home until late Wednesday afternoon (at the earliest). Thankfully, most of these desserts are best when made ahead. The cheesecake needs to chill overnight, and the bread pudding will be just fine left to soak overnight, as well. The pecan pie takes all of 10 minutes to make, so that's no issue. The ice cream is also not too labor-intensive.

(You may be wondering why I don't just make fewer desserts, but where's the fun in that?)

I can't convey how much I am looking forward to this Thanksgiving. After four months of college food, a homey, comforting meal is just what I need.

What are your plans this year for Thanksgiving? What are you cooking? How much are you looking forward to leftovers (the best part!)?

Cinnamon Sugar Love

Today is my mom's birthday.
This is her favorite cookie (the snickerdoodle, in case you were wondering; on a polka dot napkin, in case you were curious).

Although I can't bake for her truly, I am sending her virtual treats, covered in cinnamon sugar love.
We made these the other day on our hall. It must have been fate that two days before my mom's birthday we just happened to make her all-time favorite cookie.
Happy birthday, mom. I love you. Much more baking will follow in the coming weeks, and I can't wait.

xxoo, Sara

P.S. Have you ever wondered why your favorite cookie is one that is predetermined to have shortening in it? Just sayin'....

Carrot Ring

Last week I talked about the virtues of a corn-syrup-free pecan pie. There's just something about using plain sugar that seems more wholesome than corn syrup. In a way, it's like serving dishes using ingredients available at the very first Thanksgiving. (Of course, I'm not sure what that means for our stuffing, but I'm working on that front.)

And while I'm not so big on pecan pie because of its inherent sweetness, I am a devout lover of carrot ring.

You might be wondering what "carrot ring" is. It's somewhere between a souffle and a pound cake in texture. It's simultaneously dense and light. As for the flavor, it's certainly more intense than run-of-the-mill carrot cake, but it's not so overpoweringly sweet as to be considered a dessert. In fact, it's a side dish on our Thanksgiving table, and it has been for as long as I can remember. Quite simply, I adore it. Not only is it a wonderful supporting member of the Thanksgiving cast, but it is also delicious for breakfast (or dessert).

Like the origins of pecan pie (dark, mysterious, corn syrup-laden origins), the beginnings of carrot ring were somewhat questionable. While corn syrup irks me a little, shortening just plain freaks me out. The combination of its color, flavor (ahem, lack thereof), goopy texture (reminiscent of Vaseline), and solidity at room temperature are enough to make me rid all recipes I come across of this "ingredient."

(Now that I've thoroughly grossed you out talking about a "food" resembling Vaseline, please read on. I promise it gets better. And tastier.)

Luckily, my mom shares similar feelings when it comes to shortening (only countered by the fact that she a) tried the whipped lardo at Del Posto ["It tastes like bacon fat"... duh] and b) continues to grease the bundt pans for carrot ring with shortening). When my mom first received this recipe from my paternal grandmother (Nama) many years ago when she started to host Thanksgiving, she immediately set out to rid it of the unnecessary fat and calories. (Indeed, you can see the original ingredients on the recipe card below.)

Another heirloom recipe, but (warning!) these directions are super confusing.
Terse instructions on old recipes really annoy me.

Thankfully, she succeeded exceptionally well. By replacing the fat with whipped egg whites and applesauce, she both lightened the texture and moistened the crumb. She cut back on the sugar substantially, which lets the carrot flavor really shine through and justifies its side dish status. Of course, I've never had the original version, but my guess is that her changes accomplished these feats. Either way, the result is a dish that I eagerly await every year and one that will forever be on my Thanksgiving table. Enjoy this - it's a Rogovin family classic.

(Unfortunately, I have no picture to show you of this beautiful carrot ring. However, I think I successfully identified it in this picture. It is just below the wall outlet, to the left of the large green bowl. Note to self: take pictures of everything you make this Thanksgiving!)

Carrot Ring
Adapted from Nama

To cook the carrots, we place them in a microwaveable dish with some water and cook them until they're very tender. Then we put them in a food processor and process until they're mostly smooth. You don't want them to be completely pureed; lumps are perfectly fine. You could also just use a potato masher or fork to mash them up. You can use either a hand mixer or stand mixer to beat the egg whites. This recipe makes 2 carrot rings. We bake one in a pretty Bundt pan mold and serve it on Thanksgiving. The other we keep, unbaked, in the refrigerator for a few days and bake it whenever the first carrot ring is almost gone. I prefer carrot ring either warm or cold. It's a delicious complement to a sweet/tart cranberry conserve.

Yield: 2 carrot rings

1 3/4 cups applesauce
8 large egg whites, divided
2 tablespoons cold water
2 tablespoons lemon juice
1 teaspoon vanilla
1 cup dark brown sugar
2 pounds carrots, peeled, cooked, and mashed (see note)
2 teaspoons salt
1 teaspoon baking powder
1 teaspoon baking soda
2 1/2 cups all-purpose flour

Adjust an oven rack to the middle position and preheat the oven to 325 degrees F. Grease two Bundt pans (or ring-shaped cake pans) with nonstick cooking spray and set aside.

In a large bowl, mix together the applesauce and 4 of the egg whites. Add the water, lemon juice, vanilla, and brown sugar and mix until well-blended. Mix in the carrot puree.

In a separate bowl, mix the salt, baking powder, baking soda, and flour. Add the dry ingredients to the wet ingredients until just blended.

Meanwhile, beat the remaining 4 egg whites until stiff peaks form. Carefully fold the beaten egg whites into the carrot mixture. Divide the batter between the two Bundt pans (they should be about halfway full).

Put a kettle of water on to boil. Place the Bundt pan in a larger roasting pan. Put the whole set-up in the oven. Quickly and carefully pour the boiling water into the roasting pan so that it comes about halfway up the sides of the pan. Bake for 1 hour.

Let cool before inverting onto a serving platter. Serve warm, cold, or at room temperature. The carrot ring will keep, covered well with plastic wrap, for at least a week.

My Grandma's Pecan Pie

Necessity is the mother of invention. I believe very strongly in this old adage.

While Thanksgiving is certainly the most indulgent day of the year in my book, in our family we always try to make our recipes only moderately indulgent. Faced with a recipe or concept that makes our arteries clog just when mentioned, the idea of making it a little healthier or more wholesome certainly beats not serving it at all.

For example, using low- or reduced-fat cream cheese and sour cream in the pumpkin cheesecake, using half the olive oil called for in the roasted vegetable recipe, or concocting a minimalist but divine applesauce that consists of nothing more than at-their-peak apples and water (no lie). Of course, while the goal is often to cut down on the fat content or calorie count, taste is never sacrificed. (Using the pumpkin cheesecake example, I firmly believe that swapping lower-fat cream cheese and sour cream for the full-fat versions will go unnoticed in a cheesecake with flavors as bold as earthy pumpkin and spicy ginger. The resulting product is no less delicious and allows me to justify eating a slice of it, along with samples of all the other desserts, with a clear conscience.)

The recipe I'm going to tell you about today is one that makes a regular appearance on our table each Thanksgiving. This is a pecan pie that contains absolutely no corn syrup. This may seem insignificant but I'd venture to say that about 99% of pecan pie fillings contain some form of corn syrup (either dark or light). Of course, there's absolutely nothing wrong with corn syrup. But doesn't a combination of brown sugar and white sugar just sound more appealing than some clear goo? Brown and white sugars just seem more "wholesome" and "healthful" than corn syrup, if such words could ever even apply to sugar.

A stained recipe card is one of the best indicators of how tasty something is.

This recipe comes from my grandma, who, according to my mom, took it from a specific Betty Crocker cookbook edition. Go figure. Besides the exclusion of corn syrup there's really nothing special going on here. You still get that same crackly crust that forms at the top, reminiscent of praline pecans. The interior maintains its semi-solid, sweet integrity. And if all that isn't enticing enough, the whole thing makes your house smell like toasted nuts. And you just can't argue with that.

Thanksgiving 2008: Triumphant with my four desserts, including pecan pie (bottom left). But what's up with the awkward pot holder hand?

Pecan Pie
Adapted from Grandma

Since I've yet to conquer my pastry fears, I don't have a recipe for a crust to use. However, any pie crust will work for this recipe. Let your imagination run wild! Use shortening if you must! Use lard, but don't tell anyone (namely, me - not that I'm judging or anything)! The "adapted" part of this recipe comes from the use of butter rather than oleo. The pecans do not need to be ground to a powder, but there shouldn't be any large chunks either (imagine trying to cut your fork through a whole pecan). You could run your knife through some pecan pieces, or use an old-fashioned nut crusher (which used to be my task in this pie's preparation).

Yield: one 9-inch pie

1 cup packed light brown sugar
1/2 cup granulated sugar
1 tablespoon all-purpose flour
2 large eggs
2 tablespoons milk
2 teaspoon vanilla extract
1 stick butter, melted
1 1/4 cups chopped pecans, plus about 20 halves for decorating (optional)
1 (9-inch) pie shell

Adjust a rack to the center of the oven and preheat the oven to 375 degrees F. In a large bowl, mix together the brown sugar, granulated sugar, and flour. Thoroughly beat in the eggs, milk, vanilla, and butter (this is easily accomplished using a whisk, which will break up all the lumps). Fold in the chopped pecans.

Pour the filling into the prepared pie shell. If you're feeling fancy, decorate the top of the pie with the pecan halves (I like to arrange them around the perimeter).

Bake until just set, 40 to 50 minutes. Cool and serve, preferably with a scoop of vanilla ice cream.

Note: This filling can sometimes overflow the pie pan, burn on the bottom of the oven, and cause you to wonder what that "burn-y" smell is. Two ways to prevent such an occurrence are to line the floor of your oven with some heavy-duty aluminum foil, which is convenient should any other overflow catastrophes occur on the big day. Alternatively, you could also set the pie pan on a cookie sheet, which is advantageous since it allows you to easily remove the pie from the oven (especially if you opt to use a ceramic pie plate that, while beautiful, has no nifty handles to boast of).

The Perfect Cheesecake, Part II

Ladies and gentlemen, I think I've found my new standby.

A while back, I talked (okay, rambled) about my ideal cheesecake. Since I'd already found my ultimate restaurant slice, the only obstacle left in my cheesecake conquest was the ideal homemade cake.

I called that post "Part I," anticipating that "Part II" would follow very closely behind it. I was preparing to make Dorie Greenspan's Tall and Creamy Cheesecake, which sounded absolutely wonderful to me, because, well, it's... tall and creamy. I love tall and creamy. (I also love tall, dark, and handsome, but that's another story.) Unfortunately, the recipe that I followed was incredibly flawed. It was missing a vital step and I ended up underbaking the cheesecake. Don't get me wrong, the cheesecake was still delicious enough to eat, but it was underbaked.

Wednesday is my dad's birthday and he requested a simple menu of "sausages, kraut, and cheesecake." Since I'm home for fall break, I decided it was time to give Dorie's recipe another go, this time with accurate instructions.
The final result was, thanks to an extra 90 minutes of baking time, perfectly baked. It definitely lives up to its namesake qualities. The gingersnap crust that I used once again added a much needed spicy element. The cake itself is just sweet enough and ethereally creamy.
However, it's just not as dense as I like. I really wasn't expecting it to be, though. All I was hoping for was a modest (and moderately prepared) recipe that I could come back to whenever I needed to make a cheesecake. Until I summon the courage to use 5+ blocks of cream cheese and half a dozen eggs, I'll continue to use this recipe. Only in my world would this recent series of events feel like a weight lifted off my shoulders. One culinary obstacle down, infinitely more to go.

(Next mission: master pie crust. Stay tuned on that front.)

Tall and Creamy Cheesecake
Adapted from Dorie Greenspan

This cheesecake is a great base recipe for any plain cheesecake, and the quantities are painfully easy to remember for such a wonderful end product. That said, I took a few liberties with the ingredients. The crust is gingersnap because that's my favorite, but you could certainly substitute graham crackers or vanilla or chocolate wafers. Also feel free to add sugar (up to 3 tablespoons) or spices to the crust to your taste (I prefer a less sweet crust). You can also add more butter if you want a sturdier crust. I used low-fat cream cheese and sour cream, but full-fat would work just as well. And I also added half a vanilla bean because... well, it was there. Upon serving the cake, I was frustrated that some of the crust stuck to the sides of the springform pan. For aesthetic reasons, take the extra five seconds and spray the pan with nonstick spray to ensure an easy release. You'll thank me later.

Yield: 12 to 16 servings

For the crust:
About 7 ounces gingersnap cookies
1/4 teaspoon tables salt
2 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted

For the cheesecake:
4 (8-ounce) packages Neufchatel cream cheese, at room temperature
1 1/3 cups sugar
1/2 teaspoon salt
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
4 large eggs, at room temperature
1 1/3 cups l0w-fat sour cream
1/2 vanilla bean
Position a rack in the center of the oven and preheat the oven to 350 degrees F. Spray a 9-inch springform pan with nonstick spray and wrap it in a double layer of aluminum foil. In the bowl of a food processor, pulse the gingersnaps and salt together until the cookies are ground into crumbs. Add butter and pulse until the crumbs have begin to clump together and have taken on the appearance of wet sand.

Pour the buttered crumbs into the springform pan. Using the bottom and sides of a measuring cup, press the crumbs onto the bottom and up the sides of the pan. Bake for 10 minutes. Remove from the oven and let cool. Reduce the oven temperature to 325 degrees F.

Meanwhile, prepare the cheesecake batter. In the bowl of an electric mixer fitted with the paddle attachment (you could also use a hand mixer), beat the cream cheese on medium speed until soft and creamy-looking, about 4 minutes. Add the sugar and salt and beat until well-blended, about 3 minutes. Using a rubber spatula, scrape the sides and bottom of the bowl to make sure the batter is well-blended. Add the vanilla and mix until well-blended. Beat in the eggs, one by one, mixing well after each addition and scraping the sides of the bowl if necessary. Reduce the mixer speed to low and slowly add in the sour cream, again scraping the sides and bottom of the bowl. Scrape the beans from half a vanilla bean (or a whole one if you have it) and add to the batter. One last time, use a rubber spatula to make sure the batter is entirely incorporated and smooth.

Put a kettle of water on to boil. Pour the cheesecake batter into the prepared crust and place the springform pan in a roasting pan (I use the bottom of broiler pan because we don't have a roasting pan). Quickly (but carefully!) place the roasting pan on the center rack of the oven. Pour enough boiling water into the roasting pan to come halfway up the sides of the springform pan.
Bake the cheesecake for 1 hour and 30 minutes. It will rise just above the top of the pan, but it will be beautiful, lightly golden, and crack-free (that's because of the water bath). Turn off the oven and crack the oven door open with a wooden spoon. Allow the cheesecake to "rest" for an hour in the turned-off oven.

After an hour, pull the cheesecake out of the oven. Take the springform pan out of the roasting pan and set it on a paper-towel lined plate (to absorb any water from the roasting pan and to reduce slippage). Let it come to room temperature. Transfer the cooled cheesecake to the refrigerator; chill at least 4 hours, but preferably overnight.

To serve, run a knife around the circumference of the cake and remove the sides of the springform pan. The easiest way to cut the cheesecake is with a long, sharp knife that has been dipped in warm water in between slices.

The cheesecake will keep in the refrigerator, wrapped well, for up to a week, or up to 2 months in the freezer. Defrost the frozen but still wrapped cheesecake in the refrigerator before serving.

That Strawberry Sauce You See

Yield: about 1 cup of sauce, enough for 4-6 servings

About 8 medium strawberries (I used frozen)
Water
1 teaspoon sugar

Put the strawberries in a small saucepan over medium-high heat. Add enough water to come about halfway up the sides of the strawberries. (This is all very approximate because I just made this up as I went along, but I'd guess I added about 1/4 to 1/3 cup of water.) Cook, stirring occasionally, until the strawberries begin to break down. Add the sugar. Use a potato masher or fork to mash the strawberries. The strawberries will never become completely smooth but you want to make sure there are no huge chunks of strawberries. Reduce the heat to medium-low and cook the mixture until it is reduced and syrupy. Cool and serve alongside cheesecake or pound cake, on top of ice cream, or straight off the spoon! Yum....