I promised one of my good friends that I would make her a cheesecake for her birthday.
So her birthday came and went and one month later I decided I should probably make good on my promise.
So I got to work.
I went to Costco.
I bought a block of cream cheese the size of a small baby.
I mixed it with brown sugar, creamy peanut butter and a bunch of Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups chopped up real rough like.
I folded those magical little candies into that sweet creamy mixture.
Then I poured it into my spring-form pan. I poured and I poured and I poured some more until that entire thing was filled… Brimming with peanut buttery cream cheesey goodness.
HOT DANG.
How you doin’?!
At this point I painstakingly wrapped the entire thing in aluminum foil and placed it in a water bath.
I baked it for hours and then slowly cooled it down.
I placed it in the fridge to cool some more and then thought about cleaning my kitchen.
That’s about as far as that thought went, though.
I pulled my beautiful cheesecake out of the fridge and set it on a cake stand.
I tapped the lever on the side of my pan and it shot out like a speeding bullet. The contents inside of it bursting at the seams to be free.
I lifted the edges of the pan up and off and then I basked in my cheesecake’s towering glory.
Next, I poured some ganache over the top. The dark sweet nectar started dripping down every side.
For good measure, I sprinkled more peanut butter cups across the top and almost wept at it’s glory.
That’s when it all went to hell in a hand basket.
I turned to grab my camera and as I peered back around it seemed as if my entire cheesecake was melting off of the stand I had so carefully placed it on.
I screamed and wrapped my arms and body around it trying with all of my might to keep my masterpiece in tact. Mr. T sprang into action and grabbed the outer ring of the springform pan and shoved it on top of what remained.
But it was too late.
I could barely hold back the tears as I stared in disbelief.
Hours of hard work had melted into a puddle in a matter of seconds.
I had promised my friend a beautiful cheesecake and this is all I had to offer her.
I scraped up whatever I could salvage and spooned it onto a cookie sheet.
I took the walk of shame down to my friend’s house with my cheesecake puddle in hand.
She opened the door. She laughed. She grabbed a spoon and dug in and declared it still delicious.
Then we took it outside and the neighborhood kids attacked it like wild animals.
And it made me smile.
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