Caramel Pumpkin Gingersnap Cheesecake Is So Delightfully Decadent (2024)

The Cast of Characters: Gingersnaps, pecans, butter, brown sugar, salt, cream cheese, sugar, eggs, pumpkin puree, cinnamon, nutmeg, allspice, heavy cream, and caramel sauce.

Hey, before I get started, have you ever wondered what the heck is going on in the periphery of my food shots?

Well, here ya go! Clutter in the corner, cabinet door open, dogs and cats living together—mass chaos.

Grab a food processor if you have one.

Throw in about 3/4 pound of storebought gingersnaps. (Storebought because you want them to be crunchy and hard.) No need to be totally precise with the amount; I just buy a 1-lb package and grab fistfuls until I feel like I’ve grabbed 3/4 of the package.

I’m all about precision in the kitchen, let me tell you.

Pulse the food processor several times, just to get the crushing process going. (If you don’t have a food processor, just put the gingersnaps in a large plastic bag and beat ’em with a rolling pin. It’ll be good for your emotional state—I promise.)

Dump in 1/2 cup pecans.

Add 2 tablespoons brown sugar.

And a healthy dash of salt.

Now pulse it together again to combine.

Now, place the butter into a microwave-safe dish and nuke it ’til it’s melted.

And drizzle the butter right over the crumbs.

Next, pulse it ’til the mixture is nice and combined. It should be slightly moist and just barely stick together when pressed.

But just barely.

Now, dig your 10-inch springform pan from the very, very back of the very, very highest shelf in your very, very cluttered, stuffed, and packed pantry. Find the missing Easter egg dye you couldn’t find last spring.

(By the way, a springform pan is a round pan with a removable rim. It’s for desserts like cheesecakes, which wouldn’t easily be lifted out of a pan.)

(Just don’t let your boys ever start using the base as a Frisbee. Because you’ll be replacing springform pans ’til they graduate from high school.)

Dump the gingersnap mixture into the pan.

And if you feel the sudden urge to eat this with a large wooden spoon, I won’t tell anyone. Because people in glass houses shouldn’t throw stones.

Then, begin pressing the crumbs into the bottom of the pan, allowing the crust to run up the sides of the pan. Just keep workin’ it until the crust is nice and even and firmly pressed all over.

Now, place it into the fridge, uncovered, while you make the filling. That just helps cement it together a little bit. (You can also stick it in the freezer; it won’t hurt anything.)

I give you The Mixer. My friend. My lover. My constant companion.

Unwrap four packages (8 ounces each) softened cream cheese and add them to the bowl.

Dump in 1 1/2 cups white sugar. Because you’re worth it.

Beat it on high until the mixture is light and fluffy. Scrape the sides, then beat again.

Next, add 1 (15 oz) can of pumpkin puree (NOT pumpkin pie filling.) If you’re using homemade pumpkin puree, measure 1 1/2 cups.

Add 1 teaspoon cinnamon, 1 teaspoon allspice, and 1/2 teaspoon nutmeg. Sometimes I omit the cinnamon because I’m just not a huge fan of cinnamon in pumpkin desserts. It’s a weirdness of mine.

Whip the mixture together until nice and combined. Isn’t it a lovely shade of…light orange?

Now, add the eggs one at a time, beating mildly after each addition. I just turn the mixer on medium-low, then crack in the eggs about every 20 seconds or so.

Finally, scrape the sides of the bowl…

And splash in 2 tablespoons of heavy cream. I was about to say “add a healthy splash of heavy cream,” but someone recently asked me to be precise with things like this. And I listen, I do.

I listen. And I hear.

Mix together just until combined, then remove the gingersnap crust from the fridge.

Hello, my precious crust. It’s been far too long. How are the folks?

Next, grab the jar of caramel sauce and begin drizzling the sauce right onto the crust.

UPDATE: I’ve heard from several folks that they wound up with a rock-hard crust when they followed this method. While I’d made the cheesecake several times and had never gotten this result, I’ve determined that the brand of both the gingersnaps AND the caramel sauce can drastically affect the consistency of the crust. You can easily omit this step and still wind up with a delicious cheesecake, so feel free to leave it out. You could also decrease the amount of caramel on the crust to mitigate the hardening effect. –PW

And truth be told, what I’m using is caramel topping, which is more of an artificial caramel-flavored ice cream adornment. But you know what? I like it in this application. Texturally, it does the trick for me.

Although one year, I actually unwrapped caramels and set them, whole, on the crust.

Sometime I’ll explain to you all of my experiences with adding different delights to the bottom of a cheesecake crust. But first, I must heal.

Just keep on drizzlin’…

And drizzlin’…

And drizzlin’…until you’ve coated the crust with half the jar of caramel sauce.

Who knew caramel sauce would be so glossy? Mmmmm….

Next, grab some more chopped pecans and sprinkle them over the caramel.

If my sister, Betsy, were here, I would not be sprinkling the pecans over the caramel. And I would have omitted them from the crust.

She swells. She swells bigtime.

Keep sprinkling the pecans until it’s nutty enough for your taste.

TRIVIA: I HATE chopped nuts in the following desserts: brownies, cookies, and cakes. Despise. Curse. Hate.

But I like them in crusts, and whenever there’s caramel involved.

It’s complicated being me.

Yeah. That’s enough for my taste.

It’s enough to kill Betsy. But she’s in Austin right now, so we’re safe.

Now just grab the cheesecake filling and gently pour it over the caramel and pecans.

With a spatula, smooth out the top.

Put it into a 350 degree oven for no less than 1 hour, 15 minutes.

The cake will still be jiggly when you remove it from the oven—jiggly, but not SOUPY.

There’s a difference, you know.

Let it cool on the countertop for 30 minutes or so.

Now Hear This: I DON’T CARE IF MY CHEESECAKES HAVE CRACKS!

Because half the time, my cheesecakes have cracks. Half the time, they don’t. And I generally use the same recipe, with slight modifications, each time. And I know all the tricks. I’ve tried them. But the cracks still come.

And you know what? I’ve never really had a problem with the cracks. I never understood why the cracks are so undesirable. To me, they make a cheesecake look more…um…RUSTIC, is the word.

Yeah, that’s it. Rustic.

So, to cover up the fact that your cheesecake looks like the San Andreas Fault, grab the rest of your caramel sauce…and you know what to do.

Then with a flat spatula, go ahead and gently spread the caramel sauce so you wind up with a nice, even glaze over the top.

And those “unsightly cracks?” They’re but a distant memory.

Now, this is IMPORTANT. As in, ESSENTIAL. You must chill the cheesecake in the fridge for several hours before serving. Overnight is even better, but give it at least four hours.

(Pretend I’ve chilled it for four hours, okay? Just pretend—that’s all I’m asking.)

And here’s how a springform pan works: You loosen the clasp on the outer rim…

Then you simply lift up the rim, leaving the beautiful crust intact.

Now the cheesecake is much easier to slice with a serrated knife. That pesky rim would’ve made it quite difficult.

Now, if I’d actually chilled it for at least four hours, the filling would be a lot more firm and set. But at least you get the idea.

Now, some misguided souls would put a dollop of whipped cream on top of the cheesecake. But this dadgum thing is so rich, it doesn’t even need it. So I just smash up the rest of the gingersnaps right inside their original bag, and sprinkle a little bit over each piece. And notice the caramel sauce dripping down the side? That’s not extra sauce…it’s just that the glaze is so thin that as soon as you slice the pieces, it starts flowing.

Mmmmm. Man ALIVE, is this ever good.

I’m talking’ MAJOR good.

Lotsa Love,
Pioneer Woman