Dear Jessica Brennan,
Way way back, in a time they called the seventies, food wasn’t like it is now. Some rules applied, and they had nothing to do with nutrition and everything to do with a new liberating sensation called convenience.
If in 1977, you had suggested to a mother of three that to be healthy, she should shop primarily from the perimeter of the supermarket and not buy things down the middle aisles, she would have bound you with your peasant top and tied the sleeves behind your back until you could be carted off.
Vegetables came from a tin, pizza dough was pressed onto a cookie sheet and covered with red sauce and powdered cheese, and fried chicken was made with Shake ‘n Bake. Other rules included cooking a roast until it was the consistency of a boot and getting lots of fish in the form of fingers. Life was good, and we lived to see another day with our processed cheese slices and pudding cups.
There was one food, though, at least at my house, that was served with every fancy meal. Christmas, Easter, New Year’s Eve and Sunday dinner. No family get-together or church social was spared. When the meal was being planned, the question was always asked,
“Who’s bringing the jello?”
Now, I don’t know if this was just my family (immediate and extended) or if this was the healthy choice of a generation. But, I do know that if I never see another bowl of the jiggly, sugary substance, it will be too soon.
The most horrifying phrase at our house that went with jello was, “Oh no, I forgot to make the jello!”
Those words kicked off a practice of using crushed ice instead of water to get it to set quickly. Crushed ice made with the violent act of smashing a rolling pin against a plastic bag full of ice cubes. It also meant opening and closing the fridge door every five minutes for about three hours to give the bowl a shake or a poke to see if it was setting.
I wonder what horrible thing would have happened if on just one Sunday after church you couldn’t have melted sweet red goo mixed in with your gravy and mashed potatoes?
I don’t know if people still eat jello. I suspect they do. But my mother and aunts could have started their own Centre for Jello Innovation. Jello with grated carrots, jello with mandarin oranges and jello with pineapple. Jello with whipped cream, sour cream or mayonnaise. Jello with raspberries. Jello with layers. Jello cut into squares.
Jello could be a salad or a side dish next to your chicken. It could be in your dessert, beside your dessert, or simply your dessert. Also, if you had the stomach flu? Yup, have some jello.
I wish I knew how many boxes of that colourful powder have been sold on this planet because my family should have been given founding shareholder status. As I said, I never want to eat it again, but part of me wishes I had invented jello.
Love, Mum xo