Lidia smiled. “Exactly. That’s the most important ingredient.”
She whisked the cocoa, flour, and salt together in a small bowl, then gently folded them into the ricotta mixture. Finally, she stirred in the chopped chocolate. “Not melted,” she noted. “Little chunks. They melt in the oven into fudgy pockets.”
Lidia Bastianich often says that the best recipes aren’t written—they’re remembered. And for her, no dessert brought back more vivid memories than the Torta di Ricotta e Cioccolato from her childhood in Istria. lidia bastianich recipes chocolate ricotta cheesecake
Lidia buttered a 9-inch springform pan, then dusted it with fine breadcrumbs, not flour. “Breadcrumbs,” she told Julia, “give a toasty, Italian crunch. Flour is for cakes that are afraid of texture.”
When it finally emerged, cooled, and was sliced, the texture was extraordinary: dense yet airy, creamy yet firm. The chocolate had formed a marbled, almost brownie-like swirl near the bottom, while the ricotta kept everything light. A dusting of powdered sugar, a few fresh berries, and that was it. Lidia smiled
The Chocolate Ricotta Cheesecake of Nonna’s Table
And so, the recipe lived on—not just in a cookbook, but in the hands of another generation. Because for Lidia Bastianich, food isn’t just about eating. It’s about remembering who you are and who you’re feeding. Finally, she stirred in the chopped chocolate
She showed Julia how to press the ricotta through a fine-mesh sieve with a wooden spoon. “This is the secret,” she said. “If your ricotta is wet, your cheesecake will be sad. We want creamy, not weepy.”