Sometimes you just need something ridiculous for dessert. When that happens, you need to turn to Momofuku.
Dear lord it’s COLD. I know, it’s January, it’s supposed to be cold. But listen, last year, we had virtually no winter; one freak October snowstorm and we were done. That was followed up by the mildest, most beautiful spring and then the most blisteringly hot summer in recent memory. In short, it’s been a year-plus straight of some pretty obvious global warming, and I am just not ready for wind that makes your cold-induced tears freeze to your face.
Woah. Ok, so the thing about winter is that is gets really dark, really early. And it’s really hard to take good pictures of your food, when it’s dark at like, 10 AM (total exaggeration). And if you’ve sat on the couch all Sunday and watched 6 hours (total underestimate) of oh, say, The Walking Dead (don’t even get me started on the awesomeness), instead of getting your butt up and cooking, you don’t stand a chance of getting a good picture, so why even try. And that, my friends, is how you lose 6 weeks to the no-blog abyss.
If I remember correctly, I first heard of Speculoos Spread from David Lebovitz’s amazing blog a few years ago. Apparently, Speculoos are a kind of Dutch gingersnap-like biscuit (cookie, to those of us on this side of the pond). Speculoos Spread, in turn, is the spicy, sticky concoction based on the original cookie. When I first read about it, I remember thinking that it sounded interesting and that I should look for it—afterall, David (clearly we’re on a first-name basis) actually mentioned that it might be better than Nutella, and if that was the case, I was IN—but I still couldn’t really imagine what it would be like.
I hear it’s supposed to snow tomorrow. You probably want to bake this, so that it fills your house with warm smells and reminds you that the Holiday season truly is here.
There are a couple things that I require for Thanksgiving dinner. Well, more than a few things, really; it turns out I’m somewhat of a traditionalist when it comes to this one particular meal. Who would have guessed? Turkey, stuffing (preferably bread-based, noncornbread, with mushrooms, no meat), mashed potatoes, gravy, cranberry sauce (ahem, canned please; no judging!), brussels sprouts, and pumpkin pie are all required. Anything else is just gilding the lily, as far as I’m concerned (though this year there’ll be kale gratin and an almond cranberry cake! om nom nom. Sometimes gilding is beautiful).
I’ve always been a pretty good student. Well, that may actually be a slight understatement. I am. such. a. nerd. I mean, I have a PhD in molecular biology for God’s sake. I learned pretty early on that schoolwork was something I just got. Trigonometry? No worries. Advanced American History? Check. In high school, I was in Science Olympiad AND History Bowl. In college, I only stopped calculus when they somehow worked in a 4th dimension (that insanity does NOT make sense). But for everyone, there’s something. There’s some achilles heel. For me, it wasn’t organic chemistry or P-chem (yes it was. P-chem is not okay); it was spelling.
Now, please keep in mind that I WRITE FOR A LIVING (I’m a medical writer), but spelling man, it’s rough. Alphabetical order made me cry in 3rd grade–no, really, I cried AND my teacher sent a note home to tell my parents I’d had a rough day. I still to this day remember how I WANTED alphabetical order to work and still contend that there was logic behind my method. Know what I still can’t spell? Rabbit. Is there 1 “b” and 2 “t”s, or the other way around? I before E, I will never get you right. Also, pumpkin. There should be no “p” in the middle of that word. Pumkin. So much cuter. Totally wrong.
Luckily, the inability to spell the name of food does not preclude me from eating it. Now don’t freak out, I know what you’re thinking − pumpkin and chocolate? Who does that? Well, I do and you should too, because…it’s way way better than I thought it was going to be.
Sometimes I doubt myself. Sometimes, when Im slapping things together in the kitchen, I’m giggling at how ridiculous I am. This will never work, Cali. What a waste of chocolate…and pumpkin. But more often than not, it does. Although a good 20 years after figuring out I was a bona fide nerd, I’ve now learned that baking skills, I have; it’s still spelling skills that I do not.
Pumpkin Cheesecake Brownies
2 sticks butter, melted
1 c granulated sugar
1 c brown sugar
3/4 c cocoa powder
3 lg eggs
1 c flour
1 1/2 t baking powder
1 1/2 t vanilla extract
1 c walnuts (optional; I always leave them out)
6 oz cream cheese, room temperature
1/4 c granulated sugar
1/2 t vanilla
1 c canned pumpkin
1/4 t cinnamon
- Heat the oven to 350°F. Grease a 9″x13″ pan
Make the brownie layer:
- In a large bowl, combine the melted butter, sugars and cocoa powder
- Beat in the eggs, one at a time
- Sift the flour and baking powder into the bowl and mix to combine
- Stir in the vanilla and mix well
Make the cheesecake layer:
- In a large bowl, beat the cream cheese with an electric mixer until smooth and fluffy
- Add the sugar and beat until combined
- Add the pumpkin and vanilla and beat until combined
- Add the egg, cinnamon, and salt and beat until smooth
Assemble and bake the brownies:
- Pour the brownie batter into the bottom of the pan and smooth with a knife or spatula
- Dollop the pumpkin cheesecake batter over the top of the brownies; the majority of the brownies will be covered
- Using a knife, swirl the brownies and cheesecake together so that some of the brownie shows through
- Bake ~35-40 min or until the cheesecake in the middle of the pan is just set; a toothpick inserted into the middle will still have crumbs