Icebox Desserts, Part Three: Cheesecakes

My grandmother used the term, and possibly yours did too: icebox, to connote interchangeably either the original home refrigeration unit that was, in fact, a box housing a block of ice or the modern kitchen fridge. She remembered when home refrigeration was still relatively new, and while not uncommon, it was not yet ubiquitous. In her depression era kitchen, having an icebox was such a luxury as to raise a neighbor’s eyebrow. It was highfalutin but fascinating at once, in a time and place when home refrigeration just as often meant root cellar or spring house as it meant icebox.

We can easily forget how much sheer physical labor homekeeping was even just a few generations ago. Almost any item we take for granted as contemporary homekeepers was unheralded upon its introduction. We think nothing of bopping to the supermarket to fill our cart with groceries, but not that long ago, grocers were street corner small businesses that sold basics such as flour and soap to customers who often paid through barter. That barter might include a few jars of canning from homesteaders who grew and preserved their own food. Housewives strained their backs through the homekeeping cardio of heavy implements, from iron horse vacuum cleaners to bales of laundry hand-wrung and ready for the clothesline. But going back as far as the soda fountain and even before, refrigeration had its own special cachet. Food spoils, and refrigeration and freezing revolutionized the kitchen by drastically retarding that process. Before refrigeration, something as simple as ice for your drink, while not unheard of, was a treat. Refrigeration’s practicality was revolutionary, and its increasingly common availability was a godsend.

As home appliances became ever more readily available in the marketplace, obtaining them became an emblem of success for the homekeeper; indeed for the entire family. When we see in an old movie or tv show neighbors gathering to ooh and aah over a new household expenditure, from side by side refrigerator to console television set – that really happened. It may sound trite to modernites who readily visit a big box store choose a new gaming console or washing machine, but not that long ago, it was not routine and it often was an achievement. That is one reason some downtown mercantiles, evolving with the times, started specializing in home appliances. Most town squares had a store where one went to choose a new, frequently first, item for the household, from hand mixer to toaster, from deep freezer to hi-fi setup. It is why the then largely mail order purveyor Sears started opening stores in the then new phenomenon of the shopping center, and the success of that is what led to such competitors as Montgomery Ward. It is why Sperry and Hutchinson started offering small appliances as premiums, and why housewives – first on radio, then on television – swooned over game show prizes from electric brooms to steam irons.

As they do in what was becoming a lifestyle market, entire practices developed around the seemingly neverending bonanza of wonders for the modern home. The barbeque grill begat an entire culture of practices and the goods to support it, including cookbooks, implements, serveware, even the food itself. Likewise the percolator became a market for the coffee klatsch, the ice cream maker for the ice cream social, and so forth. People have always socialized, but just as we had long gathered around the blue ribbon jam and pickles ceremony at the county fair, now we had new pursuits circulating around new introductions. And that takes us to icebox desserts. Icebox desserts are a self-explanatory family of sweets that includes gelatins, puddings, pies, cakes, and variations thereof. They are prepared counter- and sometimes stove-top, but instead of being finished in the oven, they are finished by sitting in the icebox – to us spoiled modernites, the refrigerator.

Icebox desserts go to the lunch counters of that same town square, where along with the ham sandwiches and the eye-squint coffee, the proprietor served slabs of cream pie. Because of the home icebox, homekeepers began making and serving icebox desserts as special treats. The original icebox desserts remain diner staples: fluffy parfaits stacked high in the glass, cream pies topped with billows of whipped cream, humble cups of pudding. For the homekeeper, icebox desserts initially became the vogue due to the availability of another modern convenience: packaged cookies. Home economists were quick to devise ways to utilize them, from the crumbles atop a scoop of ice cream to the crust under a cheesecake.

That remains the practical base of most icebox recipes, but their spirit is pure nostalgia. Here is the first of three in a series of recipes for icebox desserts: parfaits. At the American table, parfaits are stratas of glop in tall glasses, lined up in a cold case next to saucers of gelatin. They are typically three or six layers of pudding, crumbled cookies, and whipped cream. But they are called "parfait" from the French word for "perfect" indicating their heritage as a classic of the patisserie. Le parfait is an elegant quiver of pastry cream or custard, perhaps flavored with praline, dressed with macerated fruit, chocolate shavings, or a drizzle of syrup. American parfaits are the result of home economists working on behalf of packaged food consortia, to devise ways to incorporate such convenience foods as canned fruit cocktail, flaked coconut, instant pudding. They are especially welcome during high summer, not just because they come from the icebox but because they are fun. Try one for a special change of pace to cap a summer weeknight dinner or Sunday Supper with this cool legacy from the history of American homekeeping.

To purists, a no-bake cheesecake is a contradiction in terms. In its original self, a cheesecake is a mixture of ricotta, eggs, and sugar, baked long and slow to create what is essentially a custard. As with parfaits, no-bake cheesecakes arrived in the American mid-century, as the product of home economists working to streamline processes and output in the American kitchen. In so doing, they influenced the culture of American cooking and eating, by introducing into our vernacular dishes made from reworked recipes and new, not always forthright ingredients. No-bake cheesecake was a shortcut dessert, equally found in the quick-cook recipes of homekeeping magazines and in the box mix aisle of the supermarket. But no-bake cheesecake is a legitimate kitchen wonder, easily made with simple grocery store ingredients. I like to serve it in a chocolate crust, and with no apologies consider it worthy to crown any Sunday Supper.

Icebox Cheesecake

For the crust
1 9-ounce package chocolate wafers*
3 tablespoons granulated sugar
6 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted

For the filling
1/3 cup granulated sugar
1 8-ounce package cream cheese
1/4 cup heavy cream
2 tablespoons lemon juice
1 pinch ground nutmeg

Prepare the crust

• Place cookies into a food processor or mini kitchen prep; safely process cookies until finely ground.
• Transfer the ground cookies to a large bowl. Measure 3 tablespoons sugar into the bowl with the cookies. Use one hand to safely drizzle the melted butter into the cookie-sugar mixture while using the other hand to stir the mixture until it just comes together.
• Line an 8-inch springform- or pie pan with two layers of plastic wrap. Gently press the cookie mixture onto the bottom and halfway up the sides of the pan. The mixture should just hold together and settle into place; if it doesn't, add a bit more melted butter. It is better for the mixture to run dry than be too wet.
• Place the crust into the refrigerator while you make the filling.

Prepare the cheesecake

• Place the cream cheese, 1/3 cup sugar, lemon juice, and nutmeg into a large bowl. Use a hand- or stand mixer to combine the mixture until spreadable and glossy.
• With the mixture running, drizzle the cream into the filling mixture in a thin, steady stream, until you have measured all of the cream into the mixture. The mixture should become very spreadable and light.
• Remove crust from refrigerator. Use a large serving spoon to gently transfer the filling into the crust. Gently smooth the top.
• Cover cheesecake with plastic wrap. Refrigerate at least two hours before serving. 

Cherry Cheesecake

• Wash, stem, and pit 1 pound cherries. Cut each cherry in half and place in a large bowl. Measure out 2 cups of halved cherries and roughly chop them.
• In a non-reactive metal pan, mix ¾ cup granulated sugar with 1 tablespoon cornstarch and ½ teaspoon ground allspice. Add the roughly chopped cherries to the pan along with 2 tablespoons cold water.
• Cook the cherry mixture on medium-low, stirring constantly, until it is fragrant and spreadable, approximately 4 -5 minutes. Turn off the heat, add the reserved halved cherries to the pan containing the cherry syrup, stir well, and cover the pan.
• Let the mixture sit for 1 hour. Before stirring, thin the mixture with a few drops of water if it is too thick.
• Spoon some of the cherry mixture over a slice of cheesecake prepared with a chocolate or vanilla wafer crust, and serve.

Key Lime Cheesecake

• Prepare a graham cracker or vanilla wafer crust. Substitute freshly squeezed lime juice for the lemon juice in the recipe above and incorporate the zest of 2 limes into the mixture just before transferring it to the crust.

Alternative: *prepare a crust using an equal amount of graham crackers or vanilla wafers rather than chocolate wafers. Serve the cheesecake with Tutti Frutti or Red-Hots.

Resources
Pumpkin Cheesecake
Cappuccino Cheesecake
Icebox Desserts