Of the guaranteed diet-breakers in my life, near the top of the list is cheesecake. Baked with raisins, or whipped up and chilled in the traditional style - I don't care. Stirred with a delicate snowfall of lemon rind, topped with fruit, even with cream, but best of all plain, unadorned, without even a biscuit base, just pure, unadulterated sweet cheese. There's something about that slightly sweet, slightly savoury combination, and the way it fills your mouth for that bit too long, which is irresistible.
I bought a cheesecake to take to a potluck dinner (how delightfully 70s that sounds!) last night and ended up bringing it home again, as someone else brought one too and even 15 women couldn't manage more than one cheesecake between them, especially since there were chocolate brownies and lemon torte as well. J forgot to take it to work with him this morning and I couldn't bear to bring it in to my office because I knew I would be forced (at gunpoint) to eat most of it; so I left a note for our cleaner (who comes in on a Thursday) to take it away with her if she wants it. I hope she takes it: otherwise it is preordained that I will be returning home tonight to eat the lot.
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