Whipped Ricotta with Honey and Ghost Pepper Salt
Here’s how I came to be sitting on my living room floor, in my pajama top, wiping my hands on a ripped pair of house jeans, chew-shoving toasted brioche smothered in spicy honey cheese into my mouth: I went to spin class.
A few years ago when I lived in Venice (CA, not Italy), I’d go to a quaint little exercise class called Soul Cycle. Actually, Soul Cycle was never quaint, and no workout in Santa Monica is to be taken lightly… those beach people are SERIOUS. But! I’d go to Soul Cycle, it was on the high end of my exercise budget but hey.. I’m a Californian and I’ll splurge to exercise my thighs into submission. The spin classes are essentially super-intense stationary cardio bike rides set to super loud, so so loud club music. Sometimes it’s Mariah Carey and everything is right in the world.
In New Orleans, no one moves the speed of spin class, and God bless it. It just doesn’t make sense. But when I’m back in California I treat (treat?) myself to a spin, a deafening in-place spin.
Here are some thoughts:
- There are two places I want to hear Seal’s Kiss From A Rose. 1. Inside a burgundy Toyota Camry Solara WITH SEAL HIMSELF. 2. In spin class while everyone is setting up their bikes for impeding torture.
- The front row of spin class is a big deal. Imagine all of the girls from the movie Mean Girls except in their mid to late twenties, wearing expensive work out clothes, vying for teacher’s attention, in a dark noisy workout room… also they have their butts in your face. They all have good hair, too. And probably a lot of credit card debt (speculation).
- The spin instructors thighs will be skinnier than a normal human’s arms. Just know that going in.
- The music is so loud, you won’t be able to hear yourself think. That’s perfect. If you were able to think you’d realize that , EVERYTHING HURTS. Just pedal to the beat (or to the fancy pants in front of you) and try not to die.
- Trying not to die is exactly and all you’re doing in spin class. The instructors will throw out some encouraging mantras and quotes… essentially all they’re saying is ‘hey, try not to die’.
So… I went to spin class. And then I flew back to New Orleans and ate a bunch of cheese. All is back to normal. All is well.
Our ingredients are simple: two kinds of cream cheese, the power of a stand mixer and whisk attachment, honey, spicy salt, and black pepper.
Ricotta and cream cheese will smooth and fluff into a light and spreadable dream. And Jacobsen Ghost Chili Pepper Sea Salt combined with honey is more perfect that I know how to say.
After five minutes of medium-speed whisking, the ricotta and cream cheese (and a good splash of heavy cream) will be aerated, light and smooth.
It’s incredible the way ricotta smooths under agitation. I wish I were as malleable.
While spreadable cheese is certainly appropriate any time of day, I think this sweet and spicy ricotta is a really lovely brunch addition. By Brunch I mean, you sitting alone on your living room floor with a bowl of this cheese, a few slices of toasted brioche, hard-boiled eggs, and hot coffee. That’s really the only way I brunch, on my floor alone… I’m sure you’re just like me.
- 1/4 cup cream cheese, softened
- 2 cups whole-milk ricotta
- 2 tablespoons heavy cream (or milk if that's what you have)
- ghost chili pepper sea salt + fresh cracked black pepper + honey
- toasted bread and hard boiled eggs for serving
- In the bowl of an electric stand mixer fitted with a whisk attachment, beat cream cheese until smooth and pliable. Stop the mixer and add ricotta and cream. Beat on medium speed for 4 to 5 minutes or until mixture is less grainy and fluffed. Remove from the mixer and place in a bowl of platter. Sprinkle generously with spicy sea salt, black pepper, and a good drizzle of honey. Serve with toasted bread and hard-boiled eggs. Enjoy!