No-Bake Eggnog Berry Cheesecakes

Christmas morning was chaos. Beautiful, wrapping-paper-strewn, cookie-fueled chaos. The children woke at five-thirty — Teddy first, then a cascade of smaller Bergstroms, each one louder than the last — and by six the living room looked like a paper factory had exploded. James was more interested in the ribbon than the gifts. Lucy slept through her own first Christmas, which she'll hear about for decades. Ben received a toy drum from Sarah that David looked at with the expression of a man calculating exactly how many nights of sleep he's going to lose. Teddy got the Narnia boxed set and didn't emerge from it for three days.

I gave Helen a wooden cutting board that I had made — or rather, had a woodworker in Williston make, from maple off our property. Her initials carved in the corner. She held it and ran her fingers over the grain and said, "This is beautiful." She meant: this is from our trees. This is from our land. This will be in our kitchen every day. I know what she meant because I know her, and after thirty-seven years of marriage the words are the surface and the meaning is underneath, and the underneath is always bigger.

Helen gave me a first edition of Frost's "New Hampshire." I don't know how she found it. I don't know what it cost. I held it the way you hold something fragile and precious and unexpected, and I opened it to the title page and read the first poem and the room was full of grandchildren shouting and wrapping paper flying and I was somewhere else entirely, in a quiet place where a man and his words and a Vermont morning meet and become something permanent.

Christmas dinner was turkey — the leftover prime rib having been consumed with thoroughness that bordered on violence. The turkey was twenty-two pounds, brined, rubbed, roasted. I checked the cavity twice. The giblets were out. Helen's recipe card observed from the counter. The dinner was everything it was supposed to be: too much food, too many people, not enough chairs, and exactly enough love, which is always more than you thought and less than you need.

They left in waves. David and Karen on the twenty-seventh. Sarah lingered until the twenty-eighth, drinking coffee on the porch in the cold, not wanting to leave, the way she never wants to leave. I stood on the porch and watched her car until it turned the corner and disappeared, and then I went inside and Helen was already doing dishes and Frost was asleep and the house was quiet and the tree was still lit and the cutting board was on the counter and the book was on the table. Christmas was done. Christmas was perfect.

The star tilts. The house holds. Merry Christmas, Vermont. Merry everything.

That turkey was the centerpiece, but every Christmas dinner deserves something cold and sweet to close it out — something you can make the day before, when the house is still calm and the grandchildren haven’t yet discovered the drum. These no-bake eggnog berry cheesecakes have become our quiet tradition: they wait in the refrigerator while the chaos unfolds, and they come out at the end of the evening when the wrapping paper is swept up and the fire has settled low, as a small, festive reward for surviving the beautiful wreck of it all.

Prep Time: 20 minutes | Chill Time: 4 hours | Total Time: 4 hours 20 minutes | Servings: 12

Ingredients

For the crust:
1 1/2 cups graham cracker crumbs
3 tablespoons granulated sugar
5 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted
For the filling:
16 oz cream cheese, softened to room temperature
1 cup eggnog
1/2 cup powdered sugar
1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
1/2 teaspoon ground nutmeg
1/4 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1 cup whipped topping or freshly whipped heavy cream
For the berry topping:
1 cup fresh or frozen cranberries or mixed berries
2 tablespoons granulated sugar
1 teaspoon fresh lemon juice

Instructions

Prepare the crust. Line a standard 12-cup muffin tin with paper liners. In a medium bowl, stir together the graham cracker crumbs, sugar, and melted butter until the mixture resembles wet sand. Press about 2 tablespoons firmly into the bottom of each liner. Refrigerate the tin while you prepare the filling.
Make the filling. In a large bowl, beat the softened cream cheese with a hand mixer on medium speed until completely smooth and fluffy, about 2 minutes. Add the powdered sugar, eggnog, vanilla extract, nutmeg, and cinnamon. Beat on medium speed until fully combined and silky, scraping down the sides as needed.
Fold in the whipped topping. Using a rubber spatula, gently fold the whipped topping into the cream cheese mixture in two additions until just combined. Do not overmix — you want to keep it light.
Fill the cups. Spoon or pipe the filling evenly over the chilled crusts, filling each cup nearly to the top. Smooth the surfaces with the back of a spoon. Cover the tin loosely with plastic wrap.
Chill until set. Refrigerate for at least 4 hours, or overnight for best results. The cheesecakes should feel firm to a gentle touch before serving.
Make the berry topping. Combine the berries, sugar, and lemon juice in a small saucepan over medium heat. Cook, stirring occasionally, until the berries burst and the mixture thickens into a loose sauce, about 5 to 7 minutes. Remove from heat and let cool completely. Refrigerate until ready to use.
Serve. Peel away the liners and arrange the cheesecakes on a platter. Spoon a small amount of the cooled berry topping over each one just before serving. A light dusting of nutmeg finishes them beautifully.

Nutrition (per serving)

No-Bake Eggnog Berry Cheesecakes — The Sweet Finish to a Vermont Christmas