Birthday Cheesecake

Camila's eighth birthday. The pandemic concert, version one. Six people. Family only. But Camila made it work — she hung a bedsheet curtain (Diego's engineering, improved from year one with a pulley system that opens and closes dramatically), she prepared a setlist of twelve songs (the most ambitious yet), and she stood on the coffee table in a dress that was neither pink nor purple but gold, because gold is the color of a girl who has graduated from childhood colors to performance colors, and performance is gold.

She sang "De Colores" first (always first). She sang "Cielito Lindo." She sang "Bidi Bidi Bom Bom." She sang "Somewhere Over the Rainbow." She sang "The Concha Song." She sang an original called "Pandemic Song" with lyrics that included: "We wear our masks, we wash our hands, we still have bread across the lands." She is eight. She wrote a pandemic anthem. The anthem is terrible and perfect and I will remember every word for the rest of my life.

Isabella gave her a gift that surprised everyone: a journal with a lock (the replacement — Camila's first journal's lock has been broken since she lost the key for the third time) and a note that said: "For your songs. Write them all down. Someday the world will want to read them." The note from Isabella to Camila — the nurse to the singer, the quiet one to the loud one, the oldest girl to the youngest — was the bridge between two sisters who are nothing alike and everything alike, because both of them are Rosa: Isabella is Rosa's hands (healing instead of cooking, but the same hands) and Camila is Rosa's voice (singing instead of speaking, but the same filling-of-rooms). The bridge is the family. The bridge is always the family.

I made tres leches for Camila's birthday — the annual, the tradition, with Sofia's fondant decorations (this year: a fondant microphone and a fondant music note and a fondant coffee table, because the coffee table is Camila's stage and deserves its own fondant tribute). Eight candles. She blew them out and her wish — I asked, she told me, she has not yet closed the vault completely — was: "I wished for a concert with a hundred people." Not a dog. Not a cat. A concert with a hundred people. The pets have been replaced by performance. The desire has evolved from animal to audience. She is eight and her deepest wish is a hundred people listening to her sing, and the wish will come true, not because wishes are magic but because Camila is.

Every year I say I’ll try something new, and every year Camila looks at me with those performer’s eyes and I know the answer is no — it has to be the birthday cake, it has to be the candles, it has to be the tradition. This year, with Sofia’s fondant microphone and music note pressed into the top and eight candles burning while Camila stood on her coffee table stage in gold, I realized the cake is as much a part of the concert as the bedsheet curtain and the twelve-song setlist. This Birthday Cheesecake is the one I make when the occasion has to be as big as the person — dense and celebratory and worthy of a wish that involves a hundred people listening.

Prep Time: 25 minutes | Cook Time: 1 hour 10 minutes | Total Time: 5 hours 35 minutes (includes chilling) | Servings: 12

Ingredients

2 cups graham cracker crumbs
1/3 cup granulated sugar (for crust)
1/2 cup unsalted butter, melted
4 packages (8 oz each) cream cheese, softened
1 1/4 cups granulated sugar (for filling)
1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
4 large eggs
1 cup sour cream
1/4 cup all-purpose flour
1/2 cup rainbow sprinkles, plus more for topping
1 cup whipped topping or freshly whipped cream, for serving
Fondant decorations or additional sprinkles, optional for decorating

Instructions

Prepare the crust. Preheat oven to 325°F. In a medium bowl, combine graham cracker crumbs, 1/3 cup sugar, and melted butter until evenly moistened. Press firmly into the bottom of a greased 9-inch springform pan. Bake for 10 minutes, then remove and let cool slightly.
Make the filling. In a large bowl, beat the softened cream cheese and 1 1/4 cups sugar together with an electric mixer on medium speed until completely smooth and fluffy, about 3–4 minutes. Add vanilla extract and mix to combine.
Add eggs and sour cream. Add eggs one at a time, beating on low speed just until each is incorporated — do not overbeat. Blend in the sour cream and flour until smooth. Gently fold in the rainbow sprinkles with a spatula.
Bake the cheesecake. Pour the filling over the prepared crust. Place the springform pan in a large roasting pan and add about 1 inch of hot water to the roasting pan to create a water bath. Bake at 325°F for 55–65 minutes, until the edges are set but the center still jiggles slightly.
Cool gradually. Turn off the oven and crack the door open. Let the cheesecake cool inside the oven for 1 hour. This prevents cracking. Remove from the oven and water bath, run a thin knife around the edge, and let cool completely at room temperature.
Chill. Refrigerate for at least 4 hours, or overnight, before releasing the springform ring.
Decorate and serve. Top with whipped cream, additional sprinkles, and any fondant decorations you like. Slice with a clean, warm knife for the best presentation.

Nutrition (per serving)

Birthday Cheesecake — The Cake Behind the Curtain Call