Chevre Cheesecake
Yep. You read it right. Chevre cheesecake.
If you haven't had it, you must. Because it's darn fine. Bruce made this last week for a luncheon with the Norfolk Library Book Group, a group I'm lucky enough to corral on certain Fridays. It was snarfed. Seriously.
The chevre gives the cheesecake the airiest texture. Don't think dense. Think ethereal. It sort of melts on your tongue. Not chewy in the least. I swear, this thing will unfit you for other cheesecakes. And chevre, too. Holy . . . well, goat!
I put up this recipe because this is the day we're featured on seriouseats.com. Goat recipes all week! They're running a contest for free goat books, too. (Join up!) And there's an interview of us--in which I (sigh) cuss. (Check it out here.) Sheesh, it takes a real Southern Baptist boy to cuss properly. And I did it in a national forum. Ah, well. I expect to get a call any second from the hospital where my mother is laid up with the vapors. "And you kiss someone with that mouth?" she'll ask me.
Yep. Especially if there's cheesecake involved. Just ask Bruce.
This is a recipe from the all-goat book. You can get your copy here. But I give it to you today to celebrate all things goat. And because you need a recipe like this. Trust me: you do.
Set the rack in the center of the oven and preheat the oven to 325F (165C). Put a little butter on a crumpled piece of wax paper and grease the inside of a 9-inch (23-cm) round springform pan. Make sure you grease that crack where the sides meet the bottom.
Grind 3/4 cup (110 grams) sliced almonds and 2 tablespoons (25 grams) sugar in a food processor until the mixture is a fine powder. Pour this into the springform pan, then tilt and tip the thing this way and that to coat the bottom and sides. Shake out any excess, but do get it coated in a nice, thick layer.
Next, use an electric mixer at medium speed to beat 6 large egg yolks and 3/4 cup (150 grams) sugar in a large bowl until the mixture is thick, pale, and quite creamy, about 5 minutes.
Do not skimp. Beat, beat, beat. And when you're done with that, beat in--brace yourself--1 pound 6 ounces (625 grams) fresh, soft goat cheese (aka, chevre). Beat until creamy, scraping down the inside of the bowl as necessary. Remember: don't skimp beating at this stage.
Clean and dry the beaters--scrupulously! In a second, clean, dry bowl, use that electric mixer at high speed to beat 6 large egg whites until they form soft, droopy peaks off the beaters when they're turned off and lifted out of the whites. Beat 1/4 cup (50 grams) sugar into these whites in small increments, a little at a time, so that the sugar dissolves.
Dump the beaters. Using a rubber spatula, fold half the beaten egg whites into the egg yolk/sugar/chevre mixture. (I love those words!) Now fold in 3 tablespoons (22 grams) all-purpose flour, 3 tablespoons (45 ml) lemon juice, and 1 tablespoon (15 ml) vanilla extract into the mixture. Finally, fold in the remaining beaten egg whites, using wide arcs with that spatula to keep as much air in the batter as you can.
One note, in case you're wondering: the flour. It's not in many cheesecake recipes. Some purists would be aghast. But this recipe need it because of the smaller fat and protein molecules in the goat cheese. They will not build structure in the same way that cow cream cheese will. So a little flour helps things along. Don't worry: I promise the thing's not gummy in the least.
Pour and scrape this combined mixture into the prepared springform pan, taking care not to disturb the crust.
Set the springform pan in a large roasting pan and fill the pan with boiling water until it comes about halfway up the outside of the springform pan. Gently put this whole contraption in the oven. Bake until puffed and set, about 50 minutes. When the pan is tapped, the cake should jiggle slightly at its center, like a thick custard.
Turn off the oven, open the oven door, and cool the cake in that water bath in the oven for 30 minutes.
Remove the springform pan and its cake from the roasting pan and set the finished deliciousness on a wire rack. Cool to room temperature, about 2 hours. Unhinge the sides of the springform pan to release the cake. If you're really brave, you can run a long, thin knife under the cheesecake to release it from the bottom as well, then use a wide, flat, large spatula to transfer it to a cake plate. But honestly, is someone really going to complain that a cheesecake is still sitting on its pan's bottom? If so, get better friends. Or get a divorce and marry a better friend.
Mark Scarbrough | Posted on
Monday, May 2, 2011 at 4:52PM | in
Cake,
Desserts,
Fabulously Empty Calories 




















Reader Comments (6)
Came home from the market this morning with several cylinders of chèvre frais made by a local cheesemaker, and now I think I know what I'm going to do with it. This looks fabulous! Thanks!
Hey Chez: I'm so excited for you to try it. And local cheesemaker fresh chevre?? My heart be still. (Plus, you already live in the second-best place on earth!)
M.
I have a Savory Goat Cheese Cheesecake with Zucchini-Lemon Topping in my new book, Mark, and it, too, gets scarfed right up! It's a great thing to bring to signings, because I can make it in a mini, bite-sized size and it's good at room temperature. Amen to goat cheesiness in the cheesecake!
Wickedly good! That really is how cheesecake should look - not like a hard lump of Philly cheese that's been reshaped into a round.
"a group I'm lucky enough to corral on certain Fridays" - I do think an audit of this blog might shed some light about why you've got such a large group, my friend. And let's not even talk about Bruce's knitting group.. ;-)
And dropping the f-bomb? That's the least of it, my little hollyhock...hahahahaha
Gorgeous. I make something similar with a soft ewe's milk cheese from Extremadura. Does it really have to bake in the pan of hot water?
Janet: Bruce found that the bain marie really helped it set, since the goat's milk fat/protein molecules are even smaller than sheep's. The thing needed help (thus, also, the flour). Otherwise, it set but then fell apart when left to its own against gravity, as it were.
M.