My Grandma Guthrie was a helluva cook. Yes, my Mother (her daughter-in-law) was also a fantastic cook but even she was in awe of Grandma’s skill. Flavors as complex & refined as she. Coaxed in quiet restraint.
First thing’s first. We absolutely did not call it a salad. Grandma’s fluffy confection was most certainly a dessert. And though I recall pineapple, grapes and a maraschino cherry or two if we were lucky, it definitely didn’t taste healthy. Can anything with marshmallows & canned fruit cocktail be considered even remotely healthy?
A frozen ambrosia of sorts? One part cheesecake?
My lil’ bro, cousins and I called it simply, “the frozen stuff”. That which completed every Thanksgiving & Christmas feast. Alongside the meal, or after. The ultimate palate cleanser.
Truthfully I didn’t really yearn for “the frozen stuff” as an adult. Her chicken & pork chops fried to non-greasy perfection with the slightest hint of season salt? Her creamy custard, which in hindsight reminds me so much of Puerto Rican coquito? Those were the recipes I coveted.
However, recently one of mom’s ten million journals found me, and tucked into the back, index card almost completely corroded by time, was Grandma’s recipe for Frozen Salad.
I set out immediately, gleefully, and perhaps haughtily to rework “the frozen stuff” into something my adult palate would appreciate.
Canned fruit cocktail? Too sweet. No fiber or texture.
Cream cheese? Irreplaceable. How about Greek cream cheese instead? More tang & protein.
Eggs? Not needed. Cool Whip? Unwanted.
A full CUP of sugar? Absolutely not.
I added my favorite Winter fruit, pomegranate. Blueberries for the fun of it.
Cut the marshmallows from too many to just enough, and used a locally made honey-flavored version.
The result was… a delicious success!
And surprisingly pretty dang reminiscent of Grandma’s version.
Typically this is where I would insert my new recipe.
Still might at some point, but not today.
Today I want to continue letting those childhood holiday memories wash over me.
Would Grandma have liked the changes to her salad?
Meh. Frankly, probably not. Too fussy for her, I can almost guarantee.
It also isn’t lost on me that she managed to maintain a healthy weight without butchering her indulgent recipes into nearly unrecognizable versions.
Nonetheless would she have appreciated my sentimental combination of our culinary tastes & preferences?
I’d like to think she would. I am her namesake, after all.
Just a couple of Laura Lees throwin’ down in the kitchen on a long holiday weekend.
Merry Christmas, all.
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