Hank's Cheesecakes — Mary GrandPré angel
Hank, in the bakery

ST. LOUIS · SINCE 1983

The son of a pipefitter, and a whole lot of cream cheese.

I · Hank Krussel

If you don't like cheesecake, you might find you do like Hank's Cheesecakes.

Hank didn't set out to make your average cheesecake; instead he toiled with every flavor separately, fine tuning each unique recipe to a childhood preference. Hank grew up into a world where every cheesecake he tried, to him, was overcooked and frankly too firm to enjoy… nothing could hold a candle to his memory of his mothers refrigerator cheesecakes.

Cheesecake seemed to follow Hank from birth, or maybe he followed it. Hank's father was a pipefitter, and one of his trusted customers was Raskas Family's Dairy. Any pipe troubles they had were solved by Hank's father, and every now and again they would send him home with a healthy bag of cream cheese. To Hank's own enjoyment, his mother made use of this cream cheese by making Refrigerator Cheesecakes. Hank's unique flavor came from his desire to recreate this memory. His refusal to overbake resulted in the classic smooth & creamy texture Hank's is known and loved for.

Before serving cheesecake, Hank served our country in the Vietnam war where cheesecake followed him still. During his deployment, a friend of Hank would bake and share a variety of flavored cheesecake. This bolstered his passion and opened his eyes to all the possible flavors he could make. After the war, Hank, like many others, was lost. He spent his time perfecting his craft flavor by flavor, shortening the baking time until each was perfectly smooth without any ugly cracks. Over time, people started to notice his talents.

Hank brought a cheesecake to every dinner he was invited to, each a trial run for the flavor he recently perfected. Pretty soon he gained a reputation, and friends and family began pushing him to start selling it… because it really was that good. In 1983 it finally happened, and before there was even a storefront with any retail at all, Hank sold his cheesecakes straight from his apartment to restaurants all around St. Louis who couldn't get enough. Demand grew, and in 4 years a storefront and bakery became a no-brainer. In 87' Hank chose Big Bend to set up shop. We're still on Big Bend, and though Hank left, we never changed the recipe.

Hank in the bakery
II · Anthony Favazza

Anthony Favazza

Hank built something truly special with his taste and brand, and when he looked to hand it off he had to find the right guy; someone that would take care of his life's work, not just own it. This is exactly the philosophy held by Anthony Favazza, a man who became known for respectfully preserving the signature taste of St. Louis with the love he poured into Amighettis. In 20xx ownership of Hank's Cheesecake was passed along to Anthony, who would prefer to say that 20xx was when he started working at Hank's, not when he bought it. This mentality is the reason why Hank's is still around.

How does he do it? To Anthony it's simple. Before he did anything, he sat down with every single employee including Hank and asked, "What makes Hank's what it is, what needs to stay the same?" Hank's request was that the white chocolate we use must be 26% cocoa powder, a quality you can only get straight from Belgium. Hank and his employees asked, and Anthony listened. Though Hank left, he still comes in every now and again to grab his personal favorite, Apricot Almond.

Anthony Favazza
The Hank's Cheesecakes angel — illustrated by Mary GrandPré

Our Iconic Angel

Every Hank's box has our angel on it. She was drawn by Mary GrandPré, the illustrator behind every Harry Potter book cover. Commissioned by St. Louis graphic designer David Bartels.

Look closely and you'll notice one black feather among the rest. Mary's explanation: It's the angels only sin...

She was too fond of Hank's Cheesecakes

43 years

Thank you, St. Louis.

Forty-three years in business doesn't happen without the restaurants across Missouri and Illinois who put Hank's on their menus, or without the people who kept telling their friends. You're the reason we're still here. We don't take that lightly.