Long time readers know that I have been baking cheesecakes for my dear friend and brother, Dan, for his birthday for quite some time. And I have posted the Universal Cheesecake Recipe which I use as a basis for every variant I have made and recorded on this blog. The different flavors I have posted about include Pomegranate Cheesecake, Strawberry Cheesecake, Chocolate Raspberry Cheesecake, and Irish Mocha Cheesecake.

This year, I had a couple of ideas for what kind of cheesecake to make for Dan.

One was a Turkish Coffee Cheesecake, which would use chocolate, espresso powder and cardamom in the batter, chocolate wafers and almonds with cardamom in the crust, and would be garnished with chocolate shavings, almond slices and espresso beans. That sounded good, but too similar to the chocolate raspberry cheesecake I made for him last year. I wanted something a little lighter.

I also thought of doing a rhubarb cheesecake, since the tart tourmaline-colored stalks have just come into season, but I wasn’t certain that Dan liked rhubarb.

What I knew he liked was blackberries, and since I had some in the freezer, I thought that would be a good choice.

I chose cinnamon graham cracker crumbs for the crust, and flavored the batter simply with vanilla bean paste, lemon zest and lemon juice. To one third of the batter I added some “Simply Fruit” blackberry jam, beating it in thoroughly until the batter turned pink. This was spooned into the plain batter after it was added to the crust in the pan, and swirled around for a pink and cream-colored marble effect.

For a topping, I thawed out frozen blackberries, added a dash of rosewater, some raw sugar, and a bit of lemon juice. I put this in a saucepan with the remainder of the jar of jam and added a little bit of cornstarch dissolved in cold water. I cooked this mixture until the juice thickened to a syrupy consistency. I cooled it in the fridge, and after the cake was baked and cooled (I cooled it in a nearly empty freezer), I spooned the blackberries and juice over the cake.

How did it turn out?

Well, Dan liked it, because it tasted light and fresh, and he was better able to be gluttonous and eat a ton of it at a sitting than a richer, chocolatey cake.

I loved it because the texture was fluffy and it was tangy and not too sweet. It was amazing. I think I liked it better than just about any of my other cheesecake creations, except perhaps the Pomegranate Cheesecake.

Without further ado, here is the recipe:

Dan’s Blackberry Cheesecake

It also serves one Dan, and a few of his friends, if he feels generous enough to share.

I bet you are wondering why I called this recipe “Kiss, Kiss, Bang Bang,” right?

Well, it has nothing to do with either James Bond, the movie with Robert Downey Jr. or the Torchwood episode of the same name.

It has to do with the nature of the recipe I am presenting.

This pasta sauce is such an explosion of strong flavors, that if you were to kiss someone after eating it, you would make a big bang of an impression upon them.

And probably not in a good way.

So, this title is a warning of sorts. If you are in a kissing mood after you eat this spaghetti, I suggest that you choose your target kissee wisely. The best strategy would be to feed your intended recipient of the kiss some of the pasta first, so that the two of you are equally armed when it comes to the strong flavors and aromas left in the mouth. The combination of caramelized onions, ramps, green garlic and goat feta is powerful–delicious, sensual and delightful, really, but you don’t really want to share it second hand. (Well, unless you know someone like me who thinks the aroma and flavor of garlic is just about the sexiest ever….) And the combination is strong enough, thanks to the ramps, that it will defeat the liberal application of Listerine, Altoids and Crest. (On the other hand, personally, I’d sooner kiss someone who has just eaten a raw garlic clove than someone who has washed his or her mouth out with Listerine. Listerine tastes like someone has been licking a hospital floor. Ick.)

So, the title is a warning, but it is also an advertisement for those who love big bangin’ flavors–if you love the sweetness of caramelized onions, the tang of garlic, the heady aroma of ramps, and the sword-sharp bite of goat feta, then this recipe is for you. Take all of those flavors, add the sweetness of tomatoes and the heat of a little bit of chilies, and you have a great, quick sauce for spaghetti that will not only chase the blues and blahs away, but will chase away anyone else you might want to be rid of as well.

The truth is–you can leave out the ramps if you must–especially if you have no way of getting them. Just add more green garlic or add some regular garlic to the sauce. Or just plain old leave it out. You can also forgo the butter in the recipe and just use olive oil instead, but I find that a bit of butter in addition to the olive oil softens the flavor of all of the alliums, and adds a certain richness to the sauce, making it cling deliciously to the spaghetti. You can also leave out the optional teaspoon of anchovy paste in order to make this dish vegetarian–the anchovy paste adds a great deal of umami flavor, but it isn’t necessary. I just think it perfectly rounds out the sauce and ties the different allium tastes together into a cohesive whole.

As for the goat feta, I was lucky enough to get some of the first batch of Chris Schmiel’s (of Integration Acres) home made feta from his goats. You may not be so lucky, so if you can’t get goat feta, use whatever feta you can get–the creamiest, tangiest, most sharp feta you can find.

One more thing–I used home-canned tomatoes and marinara sauce from last summer’s abundant tomato crop, but you can just as easily use store-bought canned tomatoes and jarred marinara. In fact, this would be a quick way to jazz up jarred sauce–just use the highest quality sauce you can buy, one without high fructose corn syrup, so that you get the truest, strongest tomato flavor possible.

Kiss Kiss Bang Bang Spaghetti

Ingredients:

2 tablespoons olive oil
1 tablespoon butter (optional–you could use another tablespoon of olive oil instead)
2 cups thinly sliced yellow onions
1 teaspoon salt
1/4 cup fresh green garlic, white and light green parts only, thinly sliced
1 teaspoon Aleppo pepper flakes
1 teaspoon anchovy paste (optional)
1 teaspoon or to taste chili garlic paste–I used my homemade paste (or use freshly chopped chilies or a few drops of hot sauce)
1/4 cup dry sherry or dry red wine
1 pint canned tomatoes
1 quart marinara sauce
1 cup thinly sliced green garlic–dark green tops only
1 cup thinly sliced ramp leaves
salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste
1 pound thin spaghetti, cooked al dente
1/4 cup crumbled feta cheese

Method:

Heat olive oil and butter in a heavy-bottomed skillet until the butter foams. Add the onions and sprinkle with the salt. Cook, stirring, until the onions turn a deep golden brown. Add the garlic and continue stirring and cooking until the garlic turns golden and the onions are a deep reddish brown. add the pepper flakes, anchovy paste, and chili garlic paste, and cook, stirring for another minute. Add the sherry or red wine, and cook, stirring, until the alcohol boils off.

Add the tomatoes, and cook, stirring, until the juice is boiled off and the tomatoes begin to break down. Chop at the tomatoes with a spoon until they break down, and add the marinara sauce and keep cooking until the sauce thickens slightly. Toss in the green garlic tops and ramp leaves, and season to taste with salt and pepper. Cook until the leaves wilt slightly, then add drained spaghetti to the pot and toss until the pasta is well coated.

Swirl pasta onto serving bowls and top with crumbled feta cheese and serve immediately. (Serves six as a main course with salad.)

Yes, sauerkraut is a spring vegetable.

Yes, it is made in the autumn, and eaten all winter, but the last of it is also eaten in the early spring, before the emergence of the first spring greens, asparagus and peas.

Well, it is eaten in the spring if you made enough of it to get you that far.

Anyway, here is my recipe for beer braised sauerkraut.

First you need some kraut–and make it good kraut while you are at it. The best is what you or a trusted friend makes themselves, but failing that, you can buy it in a jar or in a vacuum sealed plastic bag. But, please, not a can–the canned stuff tastes like metal to me, which is not a stellar recommendation for it as a palate-pleaser.

Then, you need to deeply caramelize some onions. Yes, here is yet another recipe that is improved by the technique of deeply browning onions; the sweetness of the onions perfectly compliments the tang of the sauerkraut, with the beer balancing everything.

For extra flavor, I also add minced garlic, a few juniper berries or a sprig of rosemary and some dried thyme and lots of freshly ground pepper.

It is simple to make and goes great with any type of sausage, with sauteed mushrooms and mashed potatoes. I particularly like it this way–a mound of garlic mashed potatoes with a well with some butter, topped with the braised sauerkraut, then the whole thing is finished with the sauteed mushrooms.

That right there is vegetarian heaven for me.

Beer Braised Sauerkraut
Ingredients:

Heat oil or drippings in a heavy-bottomed skillet over medium heat. Add in onions, sprinkle with salt and cook, stirring, until deep golden brown. Add garlic, juniper or rosemary, thyme and black pepper, and cook, stirring, until the onions are deep brown and sweet-smelling. Add beer, and sauerkraut, lower heat, simmering until most of the liquid is boiled away, and everything is fragrant and good. Stir now and then during the simmering, and serve with sausage, or with mushrooms and mashed potatoes.

I don’t have any clue the provenance of artichoke parmesan dip/spread. My suspicions are that it came into existence in the United States between the decades of the 1950’s and 1970’s, probably in a woman’s magazine, either as an article, or in an ad promoting the use of canned artichoke hearts to make an “elegant hot appetizer.” Lots of party recipes from that era were touted as being “elegant.” Elegant was in.

I am not certain of how elegant artichoke parmesan is, really. It doesn’t particularly look elegant to me. The color, which ranges from pale celedon to faded celery, isn’t very appetizing, unless one does something to change it up a bit, and the fact that it is baked (some of them are made in crock pots, but I don’t count those–I like the crusty cheese layer you get in the baked versions) in the oven means that the main decorative changes that can be made involve using an attractive ramekin or other vessel in which to bake it.

That all said–it is a very delicious dish, which is why when you look it up on Google, you find a bazillion different recipes, most of them variations on the same ur-recipe from back in the dawn of canned artichoke prehistory. Most recipes have the same handful of ingredients: artichoke hearts, parmesan cheese, mayonnaise, garlic–usually in powdered form–and possibly some herbs. Some recipes include a packet of ranch dressing mix, some include a can of chopped green chilies, or a can of cream of whatever soup, and some include a package of shredded mozzarella cheese, but in general, the ingredient list is short, and regrettably, dependent on canned, dried or dehydrated ingredients for flavor.

Don’t get me wrong–I have made this recipe many times with water-packed canned artichoke hearts, and it has turned out quite well. I am just of the opinion that if you can find frozen artichoke hearts, and either thaw them and use them uncooked or steam them lightly, the flavor of the artichoke is better, and the color is vastly improved. The color of the finished dip made with frozen artichoke hearts tends more toward the fresh green than the faded, yellowish celery, which I find to be much nicer overall.

If you do use canned artichoke hearts for this recipe, however, rinse them very well in warm water, and drain well before chopping them up.

I have found that since I refuse to use powdered garlic, and thus use minced up fresh garlic in this dish, that pre-cooking the dip mixture before baking it makes for a better flavor and texture.

So, I heat up a cast iron skillet, and add olive oil with a dab of butter to it. Then, I saute the garlic, along with any herbs I am using (fresh tarragon is divine), and the red pepper flakes, until the garlic is softened and golden and the oil/butter combination is well-flavored and scented. Then, I add the artichoke hearts which have been chopped roughly–they are in bits no bigger than my thumbnail–a food processor makes quick work of this step–and cook so that the garlic, herb and chili flavors make their way throughout the artichoke leaf flakes.

After the artichokes have cooked for a few minutes, I add fresh ground pepper, and the mayonnaise, and stir it all together.

About the mayonnaise.

You don’t need cups and cups of it. Lots of recipes should be called “Mayonnaise and Parmesan Dip with a Hint of Artichoke to Give It Color” because they have so much mayo that it is just ridiculous. I know it is a holiday dish or a party treat, but geez–you don’t need to eat a dip made of nothing much more than fat, fat and more fat in order to celebrate.

In my artichoke parmesan recipe, when it comes to mayonnaise, less is more. I only use enough to bind the artichoke heart bits together. And I add it before I take it off the heat and mix in the cheese, because I have found that warm mayonnaise and artichoke blend together easier than cold. For 14-15 ounces of artichoke heart, I use only about a third of a cup of mayonnaise, and that is enough to make it creamy and spreadable or dippable without either becoming overly creamy and gloppy. And–you can still taste the artichoke hearts–a bonus!

After I mix most of the cheese in, I scrape the dip into a smaller cast iron skillet–my Le Creuset six inch skillet is perfect–and top it with some more cheese and a sprinkle of more chili flakes–I use Aleppo pepper flakes for a mild bite–and a grinding of black pepper, and pop it in the oven for about fifteen minutes, or just until it is bubbly and hot and the cheese on top has browned beautifully.

This is a flexible recipe, you know. You could caramelize onions or shallots and add them. Or, you could add Indian spices, if you so chose. (Oooh–I may have to do this for New Year’s Eve!) Or, add some fresh chilies or chipotles to give it a kicky taste of heat. Some Worcestershire sauce is not amiss, nor is some lemon juice (i prefer lemon juice) and zest. It gives a certain freshness to the dip that helps counteract all of the rich ingredients.

It is good stuff, particularly if you make it with good ingredients.

And it doesn’t have to be a dip or spread. I have used it to top pan pizza before–as the sole topping, or with some onions, fresh tomatoes and grilled chicken on top of it. I have also used it as a pasta sauce, and it is amazingly good. In both of these cases, you skip baking it and make it in the skillet, and then either put it on top of the pizza and bake it or toss it with the pasta and there it is.

Artichoke Parmesan Dip

Serve with crackers, crusty bread, or pita chips of your choice.

Zak and Morganna don’t like homemade cranberry sauce.

They like the jellied kind that comes in cans.

I am the exact opposite.

I despise the weird jiggly stuff that unmolds in the perfect shape of a can, and which must be sliced to be served, and love the homemade stuff with chunks of fruit and maybe nuts. That is the good stuff, at least, in my view.

But, I was thinking that maybe I could change their opinion on the cranberry issue by making a sauce that that included ingredients which they loved and craved.

I decided that instead of cooking the cranberries in a sugar and water solution, I would cook them with whole spices, red wine, honey and sugar. This gave it all the flavors of a favorite winter beverage around my house–mulled wine. I also added some apples, lightly cooked in apple cider until the cider reduced and jelled, and then after everything cooled, I put in the jewel-like seeds of a whole pomegranate. To give a clean tart finish, I added a squeeze of lime juice and a sprinkle of lime zest as a garnish.

The result was a fantastically complex, yet clean-flavored cranberry sauce, full of fruit, spice and aroma, that would make any autumn or winter holiday table proud. The cranberries and apples were soft, and the uncooked pomegranate seeds were crisp, and the vibrant crimson sauce looked lovely with the thin shreds of green lime zest scattered over the surface.

What would it go well with, besides roast turkey?

I think it would be delicious with duck or goose–the deeply flavored flesh of the waterfowl would benefit from the brilliant color and flavor of the cranberries and pomegranates. I am also firmly of the opinion that it would be perfect with either lamb or pork as well, particularly the latter. Although lamb with Northern Indian spices would really shine accompanied with this cranberry relish.

I am also pretty certain that this sauce would also work as a topping for home made vanilla ice cream or a nice buttery slice of pound cake. Maybe an eggnog-flavored pound cake. Ooh. That does sound good.

Besides–it was simple to make. And you can make it a week ahead of time and have it on hand for when you decide to cook a festive roast and hold a celebratory feast at your house.

And since we have officially entered the time of feasting, I submit this recipe to you all as something that you can use to perk up your holiday table.

Oh, and how did Zak and Morganna like this recipe?

Well, they did like it, and they did eat a good bit of it.

But they also wiped out a whole can of that horrid jellied stuff, too.

There is no accounting for taste.

Cranberry Sauce with Mulled Wine and Pomegranates

Just before serving, sprinkle with lime zest.