I am not a baker or any kind of dessert maker. Cookies, muffins, cupcakes, pastries. Fail, fail, fail, fail. I blame it on my disinterest in eating sweets. Let me clarify so no one accuses me of being a liar when they see me with an Oh Henry, because I guarantee that you will catch me with many in my lifetime. What I'm saying is... I think about chips all day. I smell salted fries and my eyes dream and my mouth waters. When someone offers candy, cake or ice cream to me it takes me zero effort to say no. If no one puts any of those items in front of my face, I would not think about them until the next time I see it. And sometimes the thought of something sweet will bring up the need for savoury. But... BUT! There are days when the right chocolate at the right time, just feels so right. There is a certain time in a month that that does happen.

What this is building towards is that I had a very proud dessert making moment. Although it didn't take much skill to pull off, for someone who often burns pillsbury doughboy cookies, these cheesecake phyllo cups with raspberry sauce turned out. That's my standard for my dessert. They turned out.

Note that I served these to friends and my washroom never became the focal point of the evening.
Note two. These were inspired by the cheesecake cups my cousins' grandma made one Christmas. I can promise one thing. You will never hear me adding my own flair to desserts. I will never go off the books.