So you know that our Valentine’s Day started out with the wonderful opportunity to sleep in, followed by some delicious blueberry pancakes. Then we took Josh to school and Olivia and I had to hustle to get everything ready for when he came back home.

We headed to Kroger’s and picked up two packages of cream cheese, one 8 oz container of sour cream, some bubbly grape juice, and laundry detergent. Sound like the ingredients to a very romantic evening, no? Hey, the laundry doesn’t stop – not even for holidays. And the rest of the ingredients (sans fizzy drink) were for my first ever attempt at cheesecake! I had asked Josh what dessert he wanted for V-Day, expecting something like heart shaped cookies. But no, that’s not the way guys think. My guy thinks of cheesecake. And the recipe I had found called for the cake to cool in the oven for 5 hours! And when I asked him which meal he would choose for his V-Day celebration, he choose Chicken and Sausage Paella (which takes 4 hours to cook, plus prep time!) And by the time we got home, it was noon! OH, and did I mention Olivia had a doctor’s appointment at 1:00? But then I realized I had not received a reminder call, and that was strange. Since the weather had been rather blizzard-y, I thought maybe I had better call to make sure everything was still running on time over at the health clinic. The recorded voice informed me that there was too much snow to deal with sick people today and that I needed to reschedule.

Whew.

So I start on the cheesecake. The crust went rather well, just graham cracker crumbs and melted butter. I can do that. Olivia helped make the crumbs. But hers were the crumbs that fell on the floor as she ate the remaining crackers. She wasn’t really much help, but she had fun. I started on the filling. That’s when I realized something wasn’t quite right. I was using my largest mixing bowl and it was filled to the brim with my cheese mixture. I’m not very good at measuring volumes in my head, but I did think to myself more than once, “I think this might be a bit much for a 9 inch pan.” Sure enough, when I went to pour it in, I filled it up with half still left in the bowl. So I quickly made another crust and filled another 9 inch pan. Yep, that’s right. for this family of three, I made TWO cheesecakes. And I put them in the oven and set the timer for an hour like the recipe instructed.

But then I got to thinking. Two pans… with half the mixture in each… wouldn’t that require half the time? So I kept going back and checking the progress. I started noticing cracks in the edge of the cakes, so I opened the door, took a picture and sent it to my friend, Jes, whose mother is a renowned cheesecake expert (or so I hear ;-)) and she said, 1) Something’s wrong if they’re cracking but 2) they’re not done yet and 3) you shouldn’t be opening the oven door! Crap. Ugh. Whoops! So I kept watching (through the window) and when they started to turn a little more of a golden color (by that time, they had cracks that rivalled the Grand Canyon) I turned off the oven, opened the door, and let them cool for the suggested time of 5 hours.

I put Olivia down for her nap, only an hour and a half late, went back to the kitchen and was met with this:

What a mess! There was not a square foot left to make the Paella! The breakfast dishes were still sitting dirty on the stove and I had even expanded the mess to the dining room table! Oh, and yes, that’s our washing machine drainage hose leading into our garbage disposal. Did I not mention I was doing laundry while making cheesecake? Such a multi-tasker. So I unloaded the dishwasher, loaded the dishwasher, ran the dishwasher, thanked the Lord I have a dishwasher, and then got started on the paella.

When that was all done, I dared another look at my cheesecake attempts. This is what I saw:

I have never seen the Cheesecake Factory ever serve anything remotely close to this monstrosity.

I had to pick Josh up from school right before dinner because the buses weren’t running (Yep, but he still went to school – now that’s dedication!). On the way home, I broached the subject of my gift to him. I told him I had made him something (I had not told him I was actually going to attempt cheesecake. This was to be my present and a complete surprise). I told him it was something I’d never made before. And that… it wasn’t going to look right. And that he was supposed to just force a smile and tell me, “It looks great, honey” when he saw it. He laughed and agreed. We got home, he basically sprinted inside to the fridge, and fulfilled his oath (after a brief laugh) and told me my cheesecake looked wonderful. Sigh. Even sounds good when you *know* it’s fake.

So this was our Valentine’s dinner:
Main course: Chicken and Sausage Paella

Dessert: Salvaged Cheesecake

It really did taste like normal cheesecake (thank you, God!). And once it was cut up, you could hardly tell it used to look like this: