On an evening stroll in Donostia-San Sebastián, Spain, I came across a pintxo bar with a crowd spilling out into the street. Some stood drinking cider or wine, while others had plates with slices of dessert, which, upon closer look, appeared to be—cheesecake. How random, I thought.
However, this wasn’t just any cheesecake, but Basque cheesecake, a relatively recent development that took the world by storm. I stepped inside and no one was queueing; customers were three deep along the length of the bar. As many cheesecake plates passed over the counter as had drinks, so clearly this was a house specialty. I asked a stranger and found that this was ground zero of the cheesecake trend there in Basque Country.
Tavern Origins
Pintxos are the Basque version of tapas, and this particular bar, La Viña—founded by brothers Eladio and Antonio Rivera and their wives, Carmen Jiménez and Conchi Hernáez—has been serving them since 1959. Eladio and Carmen put their son Santiago (“Santi”) to work at an early age, and he grew up surrounded by the bustle of the bar, gradually taking over and running it by himself. He loved to cook and took any opportunity to try new things and learn new dishes and techniques.Sometime in the 1980s, he started serving cheesecake. But as anyone who makes it knows, it takes some time and effort. So he came up with a recipe for a cheesecake that is easier to make than the one Americans might expect: No crust, no toppings, and no long, slow baking process.
Looking at it still resting in its springform pan with the browned edges of parchment sticking out, one could be forgiven for thinking it was burnt from the oven. It’s not quite. In fact, it’s a magical creation. The staff bakes them in a larger off-site space to keep up with the demand each night, and servers rotate in and out of the kitchen to stack more cakes onto the counter, where the bartenders cut and slide the soft slices onto serving plates.
The top surface is caramelized near to burning, but not cracked or bitter; the top, bottom, and sides are firm enough to maintain the shape, while the center is soft, light, and creamy. The nightly crowd and the steady stream of plates are proof enough of its deliciousness.
La Viña only produces enough cheesecake to be sold and eaten in its tavern, and the recipe is no secret—the owners have never been shy about sharing it. You can find it all over the internet at this point, on blogs and in articles, and now here. But as with most seemingly simple recipes, there are little details that make the final product a sublime sum of more than its parts.
Cooking Class
I wanted to get firsthand experience making it—because even a well-written recipe can’t be substituted for watching the pros do it and then having them supervise your hands at the task. In San Sebastián, not 10 minutes walking from La Viña, I attended a cooking class at Mimo. Mimo began as a food-tours company before expanding into a gourmet food shop and then a cooking school. It hosts events and offers group and private culinary classes. If any place was familiar with La Viña and Basque cheesecake, this was it.I joined a group for a scheduled class that included a full menu of Basque dishes, including “tarta de queso.” The course began with a walk to the local markets for fresh ingredients before we returned to don aprons and set to it.
Our chef that day, Mikel Martija, had worked as a pastry chef in a Michelin-star restaurant and confessed he wasn’t a fan of all the work that went into pastries.
“This is the most simple recipe for dessert,” he told us as we gathered all the ingredients in the test kitchen. We were to begin making the cheesecake before all the other dishes so it would have time to bake and cool before the course’s finale, a Basque meal.
“The most important thing is the eggs, one by one,” Mr. Martija said. “If you put them in all at the same time, you’ll have chunks of egg. It is impossible to mix.”
Typical cheesecake recipes call for a long low heat of 250 degrees F, or initial baking at a moderately hot temperature (350 to 375 degrees F) followed by a longer cooler baking of 250 to 325 degrees F. So the recipe’s call for 230 degrees C, or about 445 to 450 degrees F, is a shocker. But this is what makes the edges caramelize into a sort of crust and causes the browning caramelization across the top surface while not fully firming up the interior.
The early cheesecakes used quark or cottage cheese, but now, Philadelphia cream cheese or an equivalent is used.
“The best is Philadelphia. If it is too thick, it is impossible to mix,” Mr. Martija said. But it should also not be too liquid. Neufchatel, though it may resemble it, doesn’t use cream and may be too soft for the job.
Whisk by hand; never use a blender.
“It brings in too much air and you’re gonna have holes. It’s really bad,” warned Mr. Martija.
And finally, be aware that chilling the cheesecake in the refrigerator will make it more dense, and texture here is as important as the flavor. Serve it at room temperature.
When Mr. Martija cut the final product, he showed the smears and peaks along the knife where the softer center stuck to the blade.
“Inside is going to be shiny. So each bite is more light. This is how I like it,” he said. He showed us a tiny bit of cream cheese in our cake that hadn’t been properly blended into the rest: A reminder of how important it is to mix it carefully and completely.
But was this exactly how La Viña did it? Most recipes on the internet will say five ingredients, but the Mimo recipe has only four.
“The original will have a bit of flour. Our recipe has no flour, so it is gluten-free. It is not necessary,” Mr. Martija explained. Also, La Viña clones call for 300 to 400 grams of sugar, but the Mimo recipe recommends 250 grams, and Mr. Martija dropped that further to 200 grams, as he “tries to be healthy.” This is an important consideration, as some will have trouble not eating the entire cake in one go.
Basque Cheesecake (Tarta de Queso)
Makes one 10-inch cake- 1 kilogram Philadelphia cream cheese (35.25 ounces, or four 8-ounce packages plus 1/5 of another package for the perfect conversion)
- 1 1/4 cup (250 grams) granulated white sugar
- 7 medium eggs
- 1/2 liter (16.9 ounces, or about 2 cups plus 2 tablespoons) heavy cream
Next, add the eggs one by one, without adding the next egg until the previous one is integrated. Finally, add the cream. It is very important to always hand stir using a spatula or whisk. Make sure there are no lumps of cheese or traces of egg.
Pour the mix into a 10-inch springform cake pan lined with parchment paper. Bake for 30 minutes at 450 degrees F.
Throughout the last half of the baking time, keep an eye on the cheesecake. In the end, the surface should be browned and almost burned-looking—but don’t go too far here, or it will bring some bitterness. Oven temperatures can vary, so stay vigilant and perhaps check yours with a freestanding thermometer. When the cake is ready, the center will not be quite firmed up and should still jiggle a bit while holding its shape.
Remove from the oven and let it cool. Remove the wall of the springform pan and carefully pull away the parchment paper. Serve at room temperature. Refrigerating it before serving makes the cake a bit firmer, something to think about if you decide you don’t like it so loose.
