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Cinnamon Sugar Cheesecake Custard Pastries — The Spice That Makes the Bakery Ours

December arrives and the bakery shifts into Christmas mode with the practiced urgency of a kitchen that has done this before. This is our third Christmas — third season of tamale orders, third season of buñuelos and polvorones and rosca planning, and the third time is the time when the chaos becomes routine, when the routine becomes muscle memory, when the hands know what to do without the brain having to tell them. I am not stressed this December. I am busy. There is a difference. Stress is when you don't know if you can do it. Busy is when you know you can and the knowing is a kind of peace.

Tamale orders: twenty-two. Up from fifteen last year, up from the original batch of desperate hope the first year. Twenty-two families who want Rosa's tamales for Christmas, who have tasted them at the bakery or heard about them from friends or seen Sofia's Instagram posts (Sofia posted a time-lapse of tamale assembly and it got eighteen hundred views, which in the world of El Paso bakery Instagram is practically viral). Twenty-two orders times an average of four dozen each is approximately one thousand and fifty-six tamales. I am not intimidated. I am Rosa's daughter. Rosa made a thousand tamales in a kitchen the size of a closet. I have a commercial kitchen and Sofia and Graciela and the stubbornness that built this bakery. One thousand and fifty-six tamales? Easy. (Not easy. But I will say it's easy and then make it easy, which is the Maria Elena method: declare it and then do it.)

I hired a second temporary helper — a woman named Yolanda, who is fifty-five and a retired bakery worker from Juárez who crossed the bridge ten years ago and who knows her way around masa the way a pilot knows her way around a cockpit. She doesn't need training. She needs an apron and a station. I gave her both. She started spreading masa on Monday and by Tuesday she was faster than me. I could have been insulted. I was relieved.

I made champurrado for the bakery again — the big batches, the corn-based hot chocolate that the construction workers live on during December. The recipe is mine now, not Rosa's — Rosa made it thinner, with more chocolate; I make it thicker, with more cinnamon — and the difference is deliberate. The recipe has evolved. I have evolved it. And that is not a betrayal of Rosa. That is what recipes do. They evolve with the women who make them, and the evolution is the life, and the life is the recipe.

The cinnamon in my champurrado is not an accident — it is a declaration. And somewhere between the tamale orders and Yolanda’s flying masa hands, I started putting that same declaration into these pastries: puff pastry, cream cheese custard, and enough cinnamon sugar on top to make the whole bakery smell like December is supposed to smell. They come together fast, which matters when you are also making a thousand tamales. They taste like the kind of thing Rosa would have called “a little extra,” and she would have meant it as a compliment.

Cinnamon Sugar Cheesecake Custard Pastries

Prep Time: 20 min | Cook Time: 25 min | Total Time: 45 min | Servings: 12 pastries

Ingredients

  • 1 sheet frozen puff pastry (about 9 oz), thawed
  • 8 oz cream cheese, softened
  • 1/4 cup granulated sugar
  • 1 tsp vanilla extract
  • 1/2 tsp ground cinnamon, plus more for topping
  • 2 large egg yolks, divided
  • 1 cup whole milk
  • 2 tbsp cornstarch
  • 3 tbsp granulated sugar (for custard)
  • 1 whole egg (for egg wash)
  • 3 tbsp granulated sugar mixed with 1 1/2 tsp ground cinnamon (for topping)
  • Pinch of salt

Instructions

  1. Preheat and prep. Heat oven to 375°F. Line a large baking sheet with parchment paper. Keep puff pastry cold until ready to use.
  2. Make the custard. In a small saucepan, whisk together the milk, 3 tbsp sugar, cornstarch, 1 egg yolk, and a pinch of salt over medium heat. Stir constantly until the mixture thickens to a pudding consistency, about 5–6 minutes. Remove from heat, stir in 1/2 tsp vanilla, and press plastic wrap directly onto the surface. Let cool for 10 minutes.
  3. Make the cheesecake filling. Beat softened cream cheese with 1/4 cup sugar, remaining egg yolk, remaining 1/2 tsp vanilla, and 1/2 tsp cinnamon until smooth and fluffy, about 2 minutes. Fold in the cooled custard until fully combined.
  4. Cut the pastry. On a lightly floured surface, unfold the puff pastry and cut into 12 equal rectangles (roughly 3 x 3 inches each). Place on the prepared baking sheet, spacing them 1 inch apart.
  5. Fill and seal. Score a 1/2-inch border around each pastry square with a knife, cutting just halfway through. Spoon about 1 1/2 tbsp of filling into the center of each, keeping it inside the scored border. Do not overfill.
  6. Egg wash. Beat the whole egg with 1 tsp water. Brush the border of each pastry with egg wash.
  7. Bake. Bake for 22–25 minutes, until the pastry edges are deep golden and puffed and the filling is just set with a slight jiggle at the center. Rotate the pan once halfway through.
  8. Finish with cinnamon sugar. While pastries are still warm, dust generously with the cinnamon-sugar mixture. Serve warm or at room temperature. They hold well at room temperature for up to 4 hours — ideal for a bakery display.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 218 | Protein: 4g | Fat: 13g | Carbs: 21g | Fiber: 0g | Sodium: 138mg

Maria Elena Gutierrez
About the cook who shared this
Maria Elena Gutierrez
Week 88 of Maria Elena’s 30-year story · El Paso, Texas
Maria Elena was born in Ciudad Juárez, crossed the border at twenty with nothing but her mother's recipes in her head, and built a life in El Paso one tortilla at a time. She owns Panadería Rosa, a tiny bakery named after the mother who taught her that cooking is prayer and waste is sin. She has five children, a husband who chose the family over the beer, and a stack of handwritten recipes that she guards like sacred text — because they are.

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