Jello

Pecan Praline Cheesecake. No problem. Herbed Focaccia Bread. Bring it on. Creme Brulee. With my eyes closed. Jello......Pause..... Read the box again. Breathe deeply. Boil the water. Stir the grainy crystals around. Add more water. Chill. Cross fingers.

It is true. I am afraid of Jello. The process of morphing hot liquid into a globular mass is baffling and I do not always want to be a part of the mystery. I know I should trust the collagen of boiled hooves to work their magic but I prefer less creepiness in my cooking. Fortunately, Jello is not on my radar of food cravings so I am able to avoid the little square boxes for the most part.

Jello does hold a few fond memories, however. Recently, my mother moved to an assisted living facility so my four sisters and I sorted through my mother's unneeded household goods. Along the way, we stumbled upon many treasures, especially in the kitchen. My mother fed seven cheeping children and a hungry husband for many years without a single fast food option or pizza takeout menu. Everything was from scratch and shortcuts were rare. We found evidence of her diligence as we pulled the old bean snipper out of her cupboard.  We used to french cut garden beans one by one, a task that was fun for the first ten beans, less so for the next eight hundred. Her vast array of baking tools are a testament to the many delicious treats we enjoyed throughout the years. I have no doubt that her cookie sheets alone delivered thousands of dozens of chocolate cookies to hungry little and big mouths.

The well-stocked cupboard of recipes gave us pause as we thumbed our way through culinary memories. The book that brought a shriek of delight was a small, hard covered book called, The New Joys of Jello. We recalled the jello salads that were standards in the 60's, 70's and 80's. Orange jello with fruit cocktail, strawberry jello with bananas, lime jello with pineapple, poke and pour jello cake, lemon jello with grated carrots (super yuck!!). One by one we admitted that our jello days were over. It was cathartic to know that my sisters, too, have moved on to new dietary delights.

Despite my release from Jello, I could not resist keeping the one dish that my mom always used for Jello. It is a vintage covered glass refrigerator dish with vegetable details on the lid. It was perfect for one box of jello with fruit add-ins. There was also room for real whipped cream topping when a little extra fanciness was called for. The dish is beautiful and somehow it has survived forty plus years of family life. I felt the need to continue its legacy of providing food for others.

I have no plans to ever put a jello salad in my charming new covered dish but it will be called into service once again. Less than 24 hours after its arrival in my kitchen it was proudly holding a garden pasta salad for my family. No need for saran wrap or foil, the glass lid fits snugly on the dish. I do think the original purpose of the dish was vegetable oriented as is evident in the corn, carrot and tomato detailing on the lid. It is time for the dish to return to its roots.

Now if I could just figure out a way to make it dishwasher and microwave safe, I would have the perfect dish.

 
 

Mason

My 87-year-old mother and I recently attended a graduation open house for my niece. As we enjoyed our ice cream sundaes, we discussed how quickly the grandchildren were growing up and how exciting it is when each one leaves the nest and begins a new future. My mother has twenty grandchildren with high school graduations under their belts, three to go.

We slurped down the last bite of our sundaes and our attention soon switched to the tasteful table decorations, a stack of three school books tied together with twine, topped by a Mason jar filled with a few fresh flowers. I am a Pinterest virgin so I am always in awe of those who know how to add an aesthetic touch to a setting. My idea of decorating is keeping everything in drawers and cupboards so I have less to dust. God bless those who rise above such laziness.

My mom was most interested in the Mason jar. She knows nothing about Pinterest's obsession with jars but she does know the utilitarian purpose of a jar (thank you, Mr. John Mason, circa 1858).  She sighed and remarked, "I canned a lot of food in jars like that." Her elderly friend at the table nodded her white-haired head and commented, "It was a lot of work."

Suddenly, the cute little jar with flowers took on a whole new meaning. Somewhere between the 1950's and the Pinterest era, the jar went from a symbol of diligence and preservation to an icon of cutesy quaintness. For my mother, it is still a reminder of the frantic frenzy brought on each summer by the relentless need to transport garden vegetables and seasonal fruit into neat rows of clear jars filled with green beans, red tomatoes, golden peaches and mahogany cherries. Our already warm kitchen was often heated up a few more degrees with blanching water burbling away on the stove and a mysteriously dangerous pressure cooker rattling away like Mt. St. Helens.  The tools of the trade were scattered throughout the kitchen, a metal funnel, lids with rubber seals, metal lid bands, a canning jar lifter thingy and lots of kitchen towels. Add to the mix a bunch of little helper hands and it is a day of industrious duty and moments of insanity. My mother was either very patient or oblivious to our shenanigans because I never remember her shooing us out of her way when she was canning. My guess is that our patience waned first and we slowly bowed out of the process and let the expert complete the task on her own.

Early in my married life I attempted canning, but commitment and relatively inexpensive canned goods at the grocery store sabotaged any long term efforts. One by one, my Mason jars became receptacles for objects other than beans and beets. Nothing cutesy, mind you, strictly pragmatic.

I suppose this is the part where I should call upon my readers to share charming little Mason jar ideas. Feel free to do so but I am afraid I won't be able to pass your ideas along to Pinterest. Unless you think a jar of paper clips has decorative potential.