Years ago while enjoying some spring skiing at my brother’s in Wyoming, I quite successfully disengaged most of the parts that hold a knee together and allow it to move in the right direction. I know this because after the snow settled and the screaming stopped, my knee moved in the wrong direction…VERY wrong. Luckily, I happened to be in a place where they are adept at re-hinging the unhinged. And after the surgeon knitted the various parts and put them back in their place, I was sent home to mend. That was when I discovered the curative properties of a hot fudge sundae. Sure the drugs prescribed were swell and somewhat entertaining, but the hot fudge sundae had something more. It worked internally and topically. You can’t say that about Vicodin and Valium. I’m sure many have known for years the medicinal value of ingesting the hot fudge sundae. Take the tonsillectomy. What’s the first thing they give you after they yank the little suckers out? And what about the mood altering properties delivered by that multi-temp bowl of medicine? Beats the hell out of Prozac. But when you place a big dish of fudgy ice cream therapy on top of the cantaloupe-sized joint where your dainty knee used to be? You get the best tasting anti-inflammatory you’ll ever find. After all, they say ice for swelling, right? Plus no prescription needed.

But why stop with the hot fudge formulary? There’s more homeopathic therapeutics accessible without insurance card or script. For example, cheesecake. Who among us hasn’t gotten that late night call. The phone rings and on the other end is a sobbing girlfriend. “What’s wrong?” ‘I’ve…(sob, sniffle) got some news.’ “How bad is it?” ‘Meet me at the diner for cheesecake’. “Aw geez, that’s bad…” Some heart pains only a big slab of baked cream cheese, eggs, and sugar and can salve. Got cramps? Ben & Jerry’s. I found Cherry Garcia to have the best palliative effect, but when it was ‘rip me off the ceiling’ pain, I pulled out the big guns: New York Super Fudge Chunk. And there are countless other remedies and tonics (with or without gin) as varied as the ailments they treat. So the next time you pull, break, wrench, twist, or ache, apply one dose of hot fudge sundae liberally, and repeat as necessary. You’ll feel better in the morning.

Below are two prescriptions guaranteed to cure what ails you. The first, a Dark Chocolate sauce with Port is great on ice cream, but I’ve also served it over poached pears (and eaten it right out of the jar cold, for medicinal purposes of course.)

The second recipe is my mom’s cheesecake recipe, and still my favorite in sickness and health. It was lovingly dubbed Heart Attack Cheesecake by one of my friends when I made it for him many years ago, and the name stuck. Think of it as a treatment and not a cause, and you’ll be fine

Dark Chocolate Sauce with Port

Inspired from a recipe in Appetit magazine

Makes about 2 cups

3/4 cup whipping cream

1/4 cup whole milk

1 1/2 tsp instant espresso powder

1/4 cup (1/2 stick) unsalted butter

8 ounces of dark chocolate, chopped (I use half bittersweet and half semisweet chocolate)

1/4 cup tawny Port * (you could substitute coffee, almond, orange, raspberry or other liqueurs)

Bring whipping cream, whole milk, instant espresso and unsalted butter to simmer in small heavy saucepan. Remove saucepan from heat and add chopped chocolate. Whisk mixture until smooth. Stir in tawny Port or other liqueur. (Sauce can be made 2 days ahead). Cover and chill. Warm over medium-low heat when ready to serve.

Heart Attack Cheesecake

Makes one 10” cake

1 lb 3 oz cream cheese – room temp

1 ½ cups sugar

1 tsp vanilla

3 TBSP flour

1 pint of sour cream

1 TBSP lemon zest

6 eggs separated

3-4 TBSP melted butter

¾- 1 cup finely ground cookie crumbs (graham crackers, gingersnaps, almond, chocolate or orange cookies all work nicely)