You Need a Forklift to Pick Up My Family's 1,500-Pound Cheesecake

I was at a high school party doing the robot in the middle of a dance circle when my fellow classmates started to chant: "Cheesecake! Cheesecake! Cheesecake!"

Even though "Temperature" by Sean (da) Paul was playing, there was no grinding involved and no cheesecake in sight. This wasn't some kind of hazing ritual or prank, but a friendly call-out to a part of my personality: cheesecake.

While some people come from families of doctors, lawyers, or teachers, I come from a long line of cheesecake-makers. I was raised among vats of batter and piles of springform pans at Eli's Cheesecake on the Northwest side of Chicago. I frosted cakes on the decorating line à la I Love Lucy in high school. I had my bat mitzvah party between the 70-foot tunnel oven and the cooling tower in the factory. I've even sold cheesecake on the Home Shopping Network. Although my Dad, Marc, gave up his law career to fully dedicate his time and energy to the cheesecake business in 1983, it all began with his father, Eli, long before. It's one big family cheesecake affair.

I'm the granddaughter of Eli Schulman, a Chicago restaurateur who was known for the sparkle in his eye, his hospitality, and most of all, his cheesecake. Eli had a steakhouse on Chicago Avenue, Eli's the Place for Steak, where he came up with his cheesecake recipe.

After serving it to customers and getting rave reviews, Eli debuted the creation at a huge food festival, Taste of Chicago, in 1980. Four years later, my dad—a lawyer at the time—was so inspired by the public's reaction to the cheesecake that he stopped practicing law and went into the cheesecake business full-time, turning a family recipe into a bakery that could produce 20,000 cakes a day.

In early July this summer, Eli's returned to Taste of Chicago to celebrate its 35th birthday. For an occasion like this, we always make a "big cake," the term we use for any massive cheesecake. This year's version weighed in at 1,500 pounds and was a nostalgic blend of two of Eli's original flavors—Original Plain and Chocolate Chip—and Birthday Cake, a new flavor to commemorate the occasion. The mind-boggling grocery list included 700 pounds of cream cheese, 200 pounds of sugar, 40 pounds of chocolate chips, 100 pounds of Eli's butter cookie crust, 95 pounds of eggs, 70 pounds of strawberries, 100 pounds of old-fashioned buttercream icing, and ten pounds of graham crackers.

When the time came to cut the thing, the crowd lined up as the costumed Eli's mascot (a.k.a "Slice") danced around Buckingham Fountain. My mom MC'd the event while my dad made a speech. Suddenly, the 1,500 pound cake was sliced—which was like watching a construction crew demolish a building—and served free to the public.

According to my dad, the key to a successful big cake include: "Talented people to be able to bake the layers [and] to assemble it. And you need really strong people to cut that cake, because cutting—you know, that's five feet across—really takes a lot of strength. So it's quite an event." The team that broke down the cake has been doing all of our big cakes since day one, and that's evident from their swift and calculated movements.

People came and went throughout the day while layers of cake were extracted, cut, and served to the crowd. It's a fun, controlled chaos, all set to the Eli's theme song "I Want Cheesecake," a take on "I Want Candy." (Aaron Carter's version—not The Strangeloves).

As a man visiting from Mississippi named Lonnie waited in line for his cake, I couldn't help but ask what brought him here. He stood patiently in line for over an hour with an iguana resting on his hand.

"What's its name?" I asked, pointing to the iguana.

"Lil' Blue," said Lonnie.

"Is Lil' Blue going to eat some cheesecake?"

"Hell no," said Lonnie. "That's why I've been feeding him watermelon in line. They eat watermelon, mustard greens, collard greens—but they are highly allergic to lettuce."

"That's a very healthy diet," I said before wishing Lonnie luck on his cheesecake journey. This was his first Chicago-style experience, so I told him to let me know how it all went down.

People always ask me if I'm sick of cheesecake by now, after years and years of unlimited access to it, and my answer is always the same: "I love cheesecake so much that I'll never get sick of it."

There are delicious cheesecakes all over the world, but there's something special about one that was born from your grandfather's imagination, your mom and dad's constant hard work and dedication, and the incredible team at Eli's that makes each cake the best cake.

In the spirit of National Cheesecake Day, please enjoy a slice or two or three. (Any style will do!) And for a fun drinking game, take a shot every time I wrote the word "cheesecake" in this article—or maybe a bite of cheesecake.