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.