Our family name translates as "cheese village" so it is no wonder that our fondness for kase is so strong and undeniable. Perhaps that urge is responsible for our gravitation to Wisconsin and why we have not strayed from it for 29 years.
And although we have not been able to suss out how the maternal and paternal grandparents got together perhaps it was the also draw of the cheese. Grandma's family was a family of bakers you see. Not the bakerei kind who make sturdy loaves and curly pretzels. The conditorei type who make the strudels and kuchens.
Here is the family recipe for kasekuchen written out by our cousin, a fourth generation baker who grew up and learned the craft in the same house in which our grandmother was born and raised.
On a visit to his home a few years ago he graciously gave us a lesson and tolerated us photographing each step of the process to turn out a heavenly heritage cheesecake.
The springform pan was greased (with real butter of course).
The previously prepared pastry was rolled out,
fit into the pan,
trimmed to fit.
Filling ingredients were assembled and weighed.
The Kitchenaid was employed for mixing.
The eggs, quark, pudding, vanilla sugar, milk and cream came together as a satiny smooth batter.
The final step. A generous sprinkle of zimt and then, into the oven it went.
In comfortable and colorful surroundings.
In good company.
Still not done, we strolled outdoors to wait some more,
while enjoying flaura we don't typically get to hang out with in our zone.
Back indoors the smells were becoming as alluring as the decor.
The glowing oven magically transformed high quality raw ingredients into a rich and lovely labor of cheesy love.
The only way to keep from immediately digging into the hot delicacy was to leave the house while it cooled.
We distracted ourselves very well with a visit to the Germanisches Nationalmuseum.
The applied arts wing was a highlight.
Back at our home away from home....time to cut the cake.
Worth the wait?
Ja. Das is richtig!
Wunderbar! Schmeckt gut!