Chocolate, amaretto, and cheesecake: three decadent flavors that should have been a heavenly combination. I was so looking forward to this recipe. I’d never actually had it before….it isn’t a memory of my mother. It just looked so good that I couldn’t pass it up. I told some friends about it, and that I would be bringing it to our board game night because I was sure I’d scarf the whole thing if I left it in the house. (David would not help to eat it. He downed an entire bottle of Disaronno in his youth, and now he gets ill at the thought of amaretto.) My friends were looking forward to it. I mean, c’mon! Chocolate amaretto cheesecake! Who wouldn’t drool with anticipation (barring traumatizing teenage misadventure)?
I made the cake. It was pretty. I brought it to game night. I took the nicest looking piece and put it aside for photographs later, then we served ourselves.
It’s not even that it was bad. It was just….meh. Okay. Fine. Good, but I’m not going for another piece. And you couldn’t even taste the amaretto. One person had the idea to splash a bit of amaretto directly on top of the cheesecake, which did indeed improve things. But the cheesecake itself was still lackluster. I would have preferred a plain cheesecake, maybe with a chocolate amaretto glaze—and I may do that still, but not for this blog.
In a nutshell, I was disappointed. And this, combined with the fact that I, personally, didn’t care for my previous shrimp dip recipe and that both the macaroni and country style steak were a flop, I found myself a bit demotivated. Which is why this is the first time I’ve updated this blog in a month—the same length of time that damn cheesecake has been sitting in my fridge, uneaten and unphotographed.
I don’t only want to write about the recipes that I remember my mother making. I also want to write about other good recipes that are in her collection, because these are pieces of her that we can discover. But I certainly don’t want to be one of those bloggers that writes positively about whatever recipe they’re posting about. There are some blog recipes I’ve prepared, and when I finally taste the outcome I think, “Did this person even really make the recipe, or did she just take pretty pictures of the ingredients on her cutting board?” I want to provide good information while organizing my thoughts for the recipe book.
I wasn’t going to write about this disappointment. I was just going to gather my will to move on with another recipe and sweep this one under the rug. But David encouraged me to write about it, saying that obstacles and failures have historical significance that shouldn’t be ignored, and that chocolate amaretto cheesecake is the Smaug in my culinary journey.
So I’ll pick up blogging again. But I won’t post the recipe because it’s not worth the pixels, and I’m certainly not taking a picture of that cake. I’m actually afraid to look at it at this point.