No-Bake Cherry Dessert

Week 508, and the dark arriving early, the kitchen warm against the cold, the soups simmering, the bread rising. I am 68 years old and the days have a rhythm now — the morning writing, the afternoon visits to Cedarhurst, the evening cooking, the weekly blog post — and the rhythm is the structure, and the structure is the sanity, and the sanity is required because the rest of it, the losing and the loving and the carrying, requires a sane woman at the helm, and I am sane, mostly, except when I cry in the car in the Cedarhurst parking lot, which is not insanity but its opposite: the specific, targeted release of emotion in a contained space, which is the most rational thing I do all week.

Summer routine; grandchildren; writing; visiting; cooking; full schedule. These are the facts of the week, the data points, the things I would put in a report if I were writing a report, which I am not — I am writing a life, and the life includes the facts but is not limited to them, because the life also includes the way the kitchen smells at six in the morning when the coffee is brewing and the challah is rising and the house is quiet and the quiet is both the grief and the peace, simultaneously, and the simultaneous is the condition, the permanent condition of a woman who is 68 and alone and not alone, who is a grandmother and a wife and a writer and a cook and a caregiver and all of these things at once, always at once, braided together like the challah.

I made strawberry shortcake this week — because it was what the week needed, because the week always needs something and the something is always food, and the food is always the answer, and the answer is always the kitchen, and the kitchen is always mine, and the mine-ness of the kitchen is the one thing that has not changed in sixty-seven years of living, from Sylvia's kitchen on the Grand Concourse to this kitchen in Oceanside where I stand every morning and every evening and many of the hours in between, making the food that is the chain, that is the love, that is the thing I do when I don't know what else to do, which is always, and especially now.

I brought food to Marvin at the usual time. The visit was what visits are now — quiet, steady, the feeding by hand when necessary, the reading aloud always, the holding of the hand that may or may not know it is being held but that is warm and alive and present, which is the definition of love in this particular year: warm and alive and present. He ate what I brought. He received what I gave. The receiving is the relationship. The receiving is the vow. In sickness and in health, in recognition and in forgetting, in the recliner and in the kitchen, the receiving is the marriage, and the marriage continues, one container at a time, one visit at a time, one day at a time, at two o'clock, every day, because the chain does not break.

I made strawberry shortcake this week because the week demanded it — but this no-bake cherry dessert is what I put on the table for the grandchildren, because the grandchildren have come to expect it and their expectations are the happiest kind of obligation I carry. It asks almost nothing of me: no oven, no timing, no vigilance — just assembly and patience and the refrigerator doing its quiet work while I do mine. On a week this full, that is exactly the recipe you reach for.

Prep Time: 20 minutes | Cook Time: None | Total Time: 2 hours 20 minutes (includes chilling) | Servings: 12

Ingredients

2 cups graham cracker crumbs
1/2 cup (1 stick) unsalted butter, melted
2 tablespoons granulated sugar
2 packages (8 oz each) cream cheese, softened to room temperature
1 cup powdered sugar, sifted
1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
2 cups frozen whipped topping (such as Cool Whip), thawed
1 can (21 oz) cherry pie filling

Instructions

Make the crust. In a medium bowl, stir together the graham cracker crumbs, melted butter, and granulated sugar until the crumbs are evenly moistened. Press the mixture firmly and evenly into the bottom of a 9x13-inch baking dish. Refrigerate for at least 15 minutes while you prepare the filling.
Beat the cream cheese. Using a hand mixer or stand mixer, beat the softened cream cheese on medium speed until completely smooth with no lumps remaining, about 2 minutes. Scrape down the sides of the bowl as needed.
Add the sugar and vanilla. Add the sifted powdered sugar and vanilla extract to the cream cheese and beat on medium-high speed until the mixture is light and fluffy, about 2 to 3 minutes.
Fold in the whipped topping. Using a rubber spatula, gently fold the thawed whipped topping into the cream cheese mixture in two additions, being careful not to deflate it. Fold only until just combined and no white streaks remain.
Spread the filling. Remove the crust from the refrigerator. Spread the cream cheese filling evenly over the crust, smoothing it all the way to the edges with an offset spatula or the back of a spoon.
Top with cherries. Spoon the cherry pie filling evenly over the cream cheese layer, spreading gently to cover the surface. Do not press down.
Chill thoroughly. Cover the dish with plastic wrap and refrigerate for at least 2 hours before serving, or overnight for the cleanest slices. Cut into 12 squares and serve cold directly from the refrigerator.

Nutrition (per serving)

No-Bake Cherry Dessert — The Week the Kitchen Kept Answering