I don't often get to bake the way that speaks to me. Baking can be a quick batch of cookies on a snowed in night, or an apple crisp that is easily thrown together for a moment of weakness.
But baking in its purest form, to me, is to labor.
To begin in the morning and finally have a completed masterpiece by the time the sun turns gold. You measured as if your life depended on it, you paced anxiously while the oven burned away at your begotten, peering through the glass every few minutes to check on the thing that stole, or rather was given willingly, your entire day.
Your back hurts a bit, your hands feel soft and warm from handling so much butter, and you whisper little prayers that whatever it is doesn't fall, crack, or scorch in it's final moments.
This is the kind of baking that impacts me. The kind I wish I was able to do on a weekly basis. I learn, and release, and revive after so many hours in the kitchen. With every time I punch down the dough I remember what a process all good things can be. The best of life needs to be hovered over and tended to for hours. It's hard to be patient, and obedient to a recipe, or to the laws of yeast and gravity. But when you know that at the end of every process lies an Irish Farmers Cheese Tart... Well, you labor.
I found this recipe a long time ago, and thought... "Someday."
It was daughnting, and the blogger even admits herself that it is not for the faint of heart. If you want to make this tart, make sure you have a whole day of nothing else to do, and commit to it with heart. I promise you, you will NOT be dissapointed! It is like a little bit of heaven come to earth.
Not your typical cheesecake, this is the original Scandinavian version. Back when they made their own cheese, from their own cows, on their own genius. The sweet, rich, and rustic cheese filling is embraced with a buttery pastry which has been coated in applesauce before baking.
Piebox is a Christmas present from my beloved who knows me well. It is a lifesaver, and sold online. :)