Strawberry Cream Cheese Pie

The birthday was Saturday. Sixty-six years old. David and Karen and the children came from Montpelier. Teddy serious about the drive, Anna who ran up the porch steps and into the kitchen and announced to Helen that she had brought birthday cards she made herself, James who had new boots and appeared to consider them the main attraction of the day.

Helen made the maple cream pie. I ate two pieces, which is the correct amount. Sarah called at noon from Portland — she could not make the drive, the weather was wrong and Lucy has a cold, but she sang happy birthday on the phone in the slightly off-key way she has always sung it, and Tom and Ben sang along, and there was a moment where I thought about all the voices that have been on all my birthdays and how the collection of voices changes over time. My father's voice is gone, and my mother's voice, and the voices that preceded them. The new voices are the continuation of what the old voices started. That is how it works.

I did not say any of this. I thanked them and ate pie.

Helen and I had dinner alone Saturday evening after David's family drove back. She had made pot roast earlier in the week, which we reheated, and there were leftover beans from Saturday before. The two of us at the kitchen table after the house was quiet. Helen asked what I was thinking. I said I was thinking about the pie. She said, you are thinking about the pie? I said the pie was excellent. She said that is not what you were thinking about. She is never wrong about these things, which is one of many reasons why I married her and have not reconsidered the decision.

Sixty-six. The heart is good. The leg aches in the cold, as it always does. The mind is sharp. The pie was excellent. It is enough. It is more than enough. The woodstove is doing its work. Vermont in January is cold and quiet and exactly what it always is, and I am in it, which is exactly right.

Helen made her maple cream pie for the birthday, and I ate two pieces, which I stand by entirely. But when I sat down to write this out, I kept thinking about what makes a cream pie the right dessert for a day like that — not showy, not complicated, just cold and smooth and sweet in a way that asks nothing of you. This strawberry cream cheese pie has that same quality: the kind of thing you set on the table and let speak for itself, which is usually the best approach anyway.

Prep Time: 20 minutes | Cook Time: 0 minutes | Total Time: 2 hours 20 minutes (includes chilling) | Servings: 8

Ingredients

1 pre-made graham cracker pie crust (9-inch)
8 oz cream cheese, softened
1 cup powdered sugar
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1 cup heavy whipping cream
2 cups fresh strawberries, hulled and sliced
1/3 cup strawberry jam or preserves
1 tablespoon lemon juice

Instructions

Make the cream filling. In a large bowl, beat the softened cream cheese with an electric mixer until smooth and fluffy, about 2 minutes. Add the powdered sugar and vanilla extract and beat until fully combined.
Whip the cream. In a separate chilled bowl, whip the heavy cream to stiff peaks. Gently fold the whipped cream into the cream cheese mixture in two additions until just combined and no streaks remain.
Fill the crust. Spoon the cream cheese filling into the graham cracker crust and spread evenly with a spatula. Smooth the top.
Prepare the strawberry topping. In a small saucepan over low heat, warm the strawberry jam with the lemon juice, stirring until loose and smooth, about 2 minutes. Remove from heat and let cool for 5 minutes.
Top the pie. Arrange the sliced strawberries over the cream cheese filling in an even layer. Brush or spoon the warm jam glaze over the strawberries to coat.
Chill. Refrigerate the pie for at least 2 hours, or until the filling is fully set. Slice and serve cold.

Nutrition (per serving)

Strawberry Cream Cheese Pie — The Pie That Says Everything Worth Saying