Butterscotch Delight

Christmas week and the Robinson house transforms the way it transforms every December — Mama's decorations come out of the attic boxes labeled in her careful handwriting, the tree goes up in the corner of the living room, and the kitchen becomes a factory. This is Mama's season. She bakes things she does not bake the rest of the year: pralines, pecan pie, sweet potato bread, the rum cake that Daddy pretends he does not eat three slices of. The house smells like butter and cinnamon and the particular sweetness of brown sugar warming in a pot.

Christmas Eve dinner is at MawMaw Shirley's. This has not changed in my lifetime and I suspect it has not changed in Daddy's. We drive to Baker — all five of us in the car, Kayla complaining about the backseat, Jamal FaceTiming from Houston because he is spending Christmas with Brittany's family this year, which Mama says she understands and her face says she does not. Uncle Terrence is there. He is sober and quiet and present, which is the trifecta that we celebrate without celebrating because Terrence has pride and sobriety does not need an audience.

MawMaw Shirley made the étouffée. She should not have — it is a production, a three-hour commitment that requires standing and stirring and lifting — but she made it because it is Christmas Eve and she has made étouffée on Christmas Eve for longer than I have been alive and she is not going to stop because her hands shake a little and her back complains. She is seventy-seven and she has decided that she is going to cook until she cannot, and after that someone else will cook her recipes, and that someone is me, and she knows it, and I know it, and neither of us says it because saying it would make the future too present and the present is where the étouffée is.

I sat next to Terrence at dinner. He ate quietly, the way he eats now — careful, measured, like a man who is aware of every bite. Before DeAndre he ate the way Daddy eats, fast and happy and reaching for seconds before the first plate was clear. That man is gone. This man is here, and this man showed up to Christmas Eve, and that is enough. I passed him the bread without being asked because I have learned that the small gestures are the ones that land.

After dinner MawMaw Shirley and I washed dishes together. The kitchen in Baker has no dishwasher — never has, never will, MawMaw Shirley says, because a dishwasher does not know where things go. We washed and dried and put away and she hummed something I did not recognize and I did not ask what it was because the humming was enough. Some things do not need names. They just need witnesses.

Christmas morning was pajamas and coffee and the quiet kind of gift-giving that happens when the family is past the age of Santa but not past the age of caring. Daddy gave Mama a new set of kitchen towels, which sounds unromantic until you understand that Mama has been complaining about the kitchen towels since September and Daddy listened, which is the most romantic thing a man can do after twenty-five years of marriage.

MawMaw Shirley stood at that stove for three hours on Christmas Eve because that is what love looks like when it has seventy-seven years of practice behind it — and after a night like that, after the dish water and the humming and Terrence passing the bread and Daddy eating three slices of rum cake he did not admit to, I needed something that carried the same warmth without the same standing time. Butterscotch Delight is the dessert I come back to when I want brown sugar sweetness and the kind of layered richness that tastes like it took all day even when it did not. It is Mama’s kitchen in a dish: butter, cream, sweetness, effort you can feel but not see.

Prep Time: 20 minutes | Cook Time: 10 minutes | Total Time: 30 minutes plus 4 hours chilling | Servings: 12

Ingredients

1 cup all-purpose flour
1/2 cup (1 stick) unsalted butter, melted
1/2 cup finely chopped pecans
1 package (8 oz) cream cheese, softened
1 cup powdered sugar
1 container (8 oz) frozen whipped topping, thawed, divided
2 packages (3.4 oz each) instant butterscotch pudding mix
3 cups cold whole milk
1/4 cup caramel sauce, for drizzling
2 tablespoons additional chopped pecans, for garnish

Instructions

Make the crust. Preheat oven to 350°F. Combine flour, melted butter, and 1/2 cup pecans in a bowl and mix until a crumbly dough forms. Press evenly into the bottom of a 9x13-inch baking dish. Bake for 18—20 minutes until lightly golden. Remove from oven and let cool completely.
Prepare the cream cheese layer. Beat softened cream cheese and powdered sugar together with a hand mixer until smooth and fluffy. Fold in half of the whipped topping until fully incorporated. Spread this mixture evenly over the cooled crust.
Make the butterscotch layer. In a large bowl, whisk together both packages of instant butterscotch pudding mix and cold milk for about 2 minutes, until the pudding begins to thicken. Let stand 2 minutes, then spread evenly over the cream cheese layer.
Top and chill. Spread the remaining whipped topping over the butterscotch layer in an even layer. Drizzle with caramel sauce and sprinkle with additional chopped pecans.
Refrigerate. Cover the dish and refrigerate for at least 4 hours, or overnight, until fully set and layers are firm. Slice into squares and serve cold.

Nutrition (per serving)

Butterscotch Delight — The Sweetness MawMaw Shirley Leaves Behind