Goat cheese cheesecake: A love story

When my mother-in-law was in college she lived across the hall from a woman named Ann Shirk. Actually, I am guessing she wasn't named Ann Shirk back then, but she is called that now, and anyway, she lived across the hall from the woman who would one day be my mother-in-law. There is a point to this story, and I will get there as soon as I can untangle myself from these names.

Anyway, this lady had a great influence on my mother-in-law's life. She gave her a cheesecake recipe. And she introduced her to the man who would be her husband. The husband came first, so we will start there.

The story goes that Ann needed a date for her boyfriend's roommate. My mother-in-law figured that even though it was the end of May and finals season, she didn't have an exam until Monday, so she volunteered.

They went to the drive-in and saw Tea House of the August Moon. At the end of the evening, they made a tennis date.

"The next day, he pulled up in his red Chevy convertible," said my mother-in-law. She and her friends were sunning themselves on the grass in front of their dorm.

"And that was it," she said. "That was some car."

Ann married her boyfriend, and my mother-in-law married his roommate. And then, not long after, Ann gave her a recipe for cheesecake with graham cracker crust. Both the marriages and the recipe have lasted for more than 40 years.

The recipe, like most things that last, has evolved. My mother-in-law became a dairy goat farmer and somewhere along the way started making the cheesecake with goat cheese. She also uses her own eggs, which are the same as store bought eggs only in the letters it takes to write them in the ingredients list. Her eggs have firm fresh whites and burnt orange yolks that glow. They turn the cheesecake a deep lemony yellow.

She also had a son, who grew up to be, among many things, a cheesecake fanatic. (Coincidence?) Luckily, he also got the genes that make it possible for him to eat as much cheesecake as he pleases without ever gaining a pound.

And so, every year on his birthday, which happens to be on Christmas Eve, we gather round the kitchen table and my mother-in-law brings out the only goat cheese cheesecake I've ever tasted. It is a long tradition, but this year one thing was different. My mother-in-law pulled a worn and spotted card out of her recipe box and showed it to me. I was honored. But I've never made a cheesecake, and I don't want to start anytime soon.

(For more adventures in goat goodness, check out the whipped cream.)