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Mushroom and Bacon Cheesecake — What We Made While the Broth Simmered

First week back. Jet lag is real and it is unfair. Mai bounced back faster than I did — eighty-seven and her body apparently has a schedule it sticks to, where mine has been negotiable for fifty-one years and is now paying the price. I was in bed by 8 PM for four nights running. The dog was confused. Smokey came back from his two weeks at Lily and James's as if no time had passed — he ran through the door, sniffed every corner of the house, and was on his bed by my feet within ten minutes. Dogs do not believe in jet lag.

Mai called Wednesday morning. She said, "Bao, I want to make pho today." I said, "Today?" She said, "Today. With the new technique." Apparently in those three days at the District 4 stall, Mai had not just tasted Hà's pho — she had asked questions, she had observed, she had taken mental notes. She had a theory about why Hà's broth was deeper. She wanted to test it. I drove over. We made pho together. The technique adjustment: a longer initial bone roast (forty-five minutes in a 425-degree oven instead of thirty), and a quick par-boil of the bones before the long simmer (which I had thought removed flavor — Mai now thinks removed only the bad flavors and concentrated the good). Twelve hours later, we tasted it. Mai said, "Closer to Hà." I said, "Closer." It wasn't fully there — Hà had forty-six years of one fire we couldn't replicate — but the broth was deeper, cleaner, more complex. The trip changed the recipe. The recipe is now a Vietnam recipe.

Wrote my first blog post since the trip on Saturday. I had not written during the trip — I'd told Lily and the readers I was on hiatus. The post was straightforward: where we went, what we ate, what Mai saw. I left out the cemetery. I left out the brother. I left out the conversation on the rooftop with my father's ghost. Some things are not for the blog. The blog got the surface. The depth stays in the family.

The pho was going to take twelve hours, and we knew that going in — we started the bones mid-morning and the broth wouldn’t be ready until well after dark. Mai and I still needed to eat dinner. She opened her refrigerator, looked at what was there, and said, “The savory cheesecake.” I had made it once before and she had asked me to write it down; I hadn’t yet. That afternoon, with the apartment already smelling of roasted bone and star anise, we made the mushroom and bacon cheesecake alongside the pho — two recipes, two techniques, one kitchen, one eighty-seven-year-old woman who apparently does not believe in resting after long flights either.

Mushroom and Bacon Cheesecake

Prep Time: 25 min | Cook Time: 55 min | Total Time: 1 hr 20 min | Servings: 10–12

Ingredients

  • Crust
  • 1 1/2 cups finely crushed buttery crackers (such as Ritz)
  • 3 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted
  • Filling
  • 6 strips thick-cut bacon, chopped
  • 8 oz cremini mushrooms, finely diced
  • 1/2 cup yellow onion, finely diced
  • 2 cloves garlic, minced
  • 1/2 teaspoon fresh thyme leaves
  • Salt and black pepper to taste
  • 16 oz cream cheese, softened to room temperature
  • 1/2 cup sour cream
  • 3 large eggs
  • 1 cup shredded Gruyère cheese
  • 1/4 cup grated Parmesan
  • 1 teaspoon Worcestershire sauce
  • 1/4 teaspoon smoked paprika

Instructions

  1. Preheat and prep. Preheat your oven to 325°F. Lightly grease a 9-inch springform pan and set aside.
  2. Make the crust. Combine crushed crackers and melted butter in a bowl and mix until the texture resembles damp sand. Press firmly and evenly into the bottom of the springform pan. Bake for 8 minutes, then remove and let cool slightly.
  3. Cook the bacon. In a large skillet over medium heat, cook chopped bacon until crisp. Transfer to a paper towel–lined plate. Pour off all but about 1 tablespoon of the rendered fat from the pan.
  4. Sauté the vegetables. In the same skillet with the reserved bacon fat, cook onion over medium heat for 3 minutes until softened. Add garlic and mushrooms, season with salt and pepper, and cook 6–8 minutes until the mushrooms release their moisture and it evaporates completely. Stir in thyme. Remove from heat and let cool for 10 minutes.
  5. Make the filling. Beat softened cream cheese with an electric mixer on medium speed until completely smooth, about 2 minutes. Add sour cream and mix until combined. Add eggs one at a time, beating just until incorporated after each addition — do not overbeat. Fold in Gruyère, Parmesan, Worcestershire, and smoked paprika. Stir in the cooled mushroom mixture and three-quarters of the cooked bacon.
  6. Fill and bake. Pour the filling over the cooled crust and smooth the top. Place the springform pan on a baking sheet to catch any drips. Bake at 325°F for 45–50 minutes, until the edges are set and the center jiggles only slightly when nudged. Do not overbake.
  7. Cool gradually. Turn off the oven, crack the door open, and let the cheesecake rest inside for 20 minutes. This helps prevent cracking. Transfer to a wire rack and cool to room temperature, then refrigerate for at least 2 hours (or overnight) before serving.
  8. Garnish and serve. Before serving, scatter the reserved bacon over the top. Serve at room temperature or slightly chilled, cut into thin wedges as an appetizer or thicker slices as a main.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 340 | Protein: 12g | Fat: 27g | Carbs: 10g | Fiber: 0.5g | Sodium: 480mg

Bobby Tran
About the cook who shared this
Bobby Tran
Week 501 of Bobby’s 30-year story · Houston, Texas
Bobby Tran was born in a refugee camp in Arkansas to parents who fled Saigon with nothing. He grew up in Houston straddling two worlds — Vietnamese at home, Texan everywhere else — and learned to cook from his mother's pho and a neighbor's BBQ smoker. He's a former shrimper, a recovering alcoholic, a divorced dad of three, and the guy who marinates brisket in fish sauce and lemongrass because he doesn't believe in borders, especially when it comes to flavor.

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