Have I mentioned that I kind of love Kahlua? Like, in a "I'm not an alcoholic, alcoholics go to meetings" kind of way.
If you'd rather just have the recipe and be a spoil-sport about it, here's the recipe I used (I used the first one on the page), and instead of the vanilla extract, add a shot of Coffee Liqueur and mix it in well before you fold in the Cool Whip.
All right, making Kahlua Cheesecake the Hot Mess Housewife way:
- 3 weeks prior, find a recipe in one of those housewifery magazines for Kahlua Cheesecake, dog-ear the page, and offer to make it for your in-laws' Christmas celebration.
- 2 days before, re-check recipe before heading to grocery store for ingredients. Actually read the recipe and see that it requires a springform pan. Realize you don't have a springform pan. Check the gazillion recipes you have saved on your computer for a cheesecake one that you could add Kahlua to. Found one! Go to grocery store. Once home, taste-test the store-brand coffee liqueur you bought to make sure it's close enough to Kahlua. You might need to do this more than once for quality assurance. Preferably mixed in with hot cocoa w/ mini-marshmallows; the mini-marshmallows counteract the liqueur, which means you're not a drunk for adding booze to hot cocoa.
- The morning you need to make it, sleep in an hour and realize that you now don't have enough time to make the cheesecake and give it the proper chill time. Frantically Google for easy cheesecake recipes. Find one, run to store to buy graham cracker crust since you now won't have time to make one, and the Cool Whip that the new recipe requires that you don't already have.
- Come home, wash beaters that are still dirty from the mashed potatoes you made Friday night for your Xmas Eve dinner with friends. (BTW, they were awesome. I'll post that recipe some other time.) Wash hands, because you're not a filthy animal and don't want to spread germs onto the delicious dessert you are making to share. Remove cream cheese from package (VERY IMPORTANT, that foil wrapper doesn't taste that good) and place in a mixing bowl. Beat the cream cheese until it moves easily around your beaters; if it's still a big blob of cream cheese, keep beating it (hehehehehehe, "beating it") (yes, I'm a 12 year old boy mentally).
- Once the cream cheese is a smoother consistency, add 1/3 cup sugar. Beat the cream cheese and sugar together. Get out a spatula (forgot to mention that earlier, sorry), and get all the cream cheese and sugar granules on the sides of the bowl back into the middle, and beat it some more. Dip your recently-washed finger in to taste it.
- Once it's all mixed up, measure out 1 cup of sour cream; since your 1-cup measuring cup is dirty, you measure out 2 1/2-cups because that's the only one clean. Whatever, the math still works. Spoon that in the bowl, and mix it all again. Dip your same finger in again to taste, forgetting that you just did that and have now contaminated the damn filling with your disgusting mouth germs.
- In lieu of the vanilla extract the original recipe calls for, add 1 shot glass' worth of coffee liqueur that we'll now call Shmahlua, which you will tell people is Kahlua, 'cuz they won't be able to tell. Take a small drink from the bottle for one last quality assurance test.
- Panic when the Shmahlua seems to water down the filling at first pour. Frantically mix the filling and the liqueur until it's mixed in and the filling seems to have the same consistency it had pre-Shmahlua.
- Fold in the Cool Whip (or store-brand whipped topping, as that was cheaper), and hope it has thawed enough from the time you grabbed it out of the freezer section until now. It hasn't, but shrug and fold it in anyway. (For those of you who don't know what "fold" means in cooking, that means to gently mix in.) Look for clumps of still-frozen whipped topping and try to smush them with your spatula. Taste test with the same finger before because you're a scatter-brained moron and forgot to stop doing that. Realize it doesn't taste "Kahlua-y" enough. Add another splash of Shmahlua (seriously, a SPLASH) and frantically stir in again.
- Open the graham cracker crust (there's a plastic lid on it, and the pie will not taste good if you leave the plastic on it, I assure you), and pour in the filling. Smooth it out nicely with the spatula. Realize you still have a good amount filling left, even though the crust is filled to the brim. Shrug, cover the pie with that plastic lid, and shove it in the freezer to chill.
- Celebrate completion of the dessert with another shot of Shmahlua. When husband asks if you need any help at this late point, yell at him that he can "do the damn dishes if he wants to be helpful." Sigh as he goes back to watching the damn football game. (You really hate football.) Cry a little as you put the Shmahlua back in the fridge.
- Spoon the remainder of the filling into a plastic ziploc baggie, figuring you'll squeeze it out onto those graham crackers you bought when you were being uppity and thinking you were going to be a big shot who would make her own graham cracker crust. Get filling all over the bag and your fingers. Delight in the delicious, sticky mess and lick it off with abandon, 'cuz hey, this portion of the filling isn't going into any shared desserts now. Shove baggie of filling in the fridge, and decide to blog about this because it's pretty damn funny in your own head.
- As you wrap up blog post, remember that you didn't take a picture of the final product (not that it's all that impressive); then remember that you meant to buy chocolate chips to melt and pour over the graham cracker crust as a nice little addition to the cheesecake. *facepalm* A little late for THAT step... next time?
|Remarkably unimpressive, isn't it?|
*good idea sponsored by store-brand Kahlua shots