SOUTHERN RECIPE RESTORATION PROJECT
Gelatin salads break out of the moldThose wiggly wonders of yesteryear inspire an award-winning chef to create some fresh renditions for this year's holiday table
For the Journal-Constitution
Published on: 11/02/06
In 1988, I was 25 years old and only a few weeks into my tenure as chef to Georgia Gov. Joe Frank Harris. The first lady, Elizabeth Harris, and I were sitting in the Governor's Mansion kitchen discussing that night's menu. While dinner at the mansion could sometimes mean a state affair for 300 or more, on this evening it would be just the first couple.
"Why don't we have something nice and light for dessert?" she asked.
JOEY IVANSCO/AJC STAFF |
"How about angel food cake, with fresh fruit and lemon curd?" I asked. "Or some sorbet and freshly baked cookies?"
"No, let's have something light and delicious. Something really good, you know, like Jell-O."
I was new at the mansion and didn't know the first lady very well yet, but I was certain she must be joking.
After all, I was a chef! Surely she wasn't asking me — the one who made for her elaborate desserts, often crowned with golden clouds of spun sugar — to demean myself in such a "housewifey" way.
But she wasn't joking. In fact, she was quite serious.
That night, I "prepared" my first ever Jell-O. Mrs. Harris even called to prime me on the "quick-chill"method (dissolve 1 box of Jell-O in 1 cup boiling water; stir in 1 cup ice cubes till melted; cover and refrigerate) so that it would be of optimum consistency — neither too soft nor too firm— when served.
I cooked for the Harrises for the next three years, and each time I got the "time to make the Jell-O" call, my culinary feathers would ruffle a bit. Perhaps it was youthful arrogance that caused me to recoil. Or maybe it was that I didn't grow up in a household of Jell-O eaters.
As a child, I do remember my mother once making a "fancy" Jell-O dessert — dazzling red and blue layers in parfait glasses that had been tilted just so in the refrigerator to produce a sort of barber pole effect. But we were really more of an ice cream and cake kind of family, and my attitude toward Jell-O and gelatin dishes was one of general suspicion. I associated it with bad cafeterias and hospital dinner trays, and my sister had told me it was made from horse hooves (it isn't).
These gelatin prejudices prevailed for many years, but lately I have found myself contemplating the idea of "jellied" in a different light.
Dissolving old notions
While I still take issue with the artificial color and flavorings in the packaged dessert mix we know as Jell-O, gelatin itself is not without its virtues. It can transform liquids into solid, suspending flavor without altering it. It can be molded into interesting and attractive shapes. And, as many of my Jell-O-loving friends have pointed out to me, "It's fun."
This shift in thinking began several years ago when my friend Edna Lewis and I were compiling recipes for the cookbook we wrote together, "The Gift of Southern Cooking." One day, while making a list of dishes that should be included, Miss Lewis, as I called her, proposed tomato aspic. Like Mrs. Harris years before, I was certain she was kidding. But she, too, was serious.
My experience with tomato aspic at that point was as something to be avoided, or at the very most, politely endured. The aspics I knew usually started with a can of V-8 juice or Clamato and were fortified with enough gelatin to render them the textural equivalent of a Goodyear radial.
"Oh, no, Scott, tomato aspic is delicious! And it's real Southern," Miss Lewis declared.
So together we developed a version of tomato aspic made with fresh summer tomatoes that was indeed delicious and shattered my previous notions about the dish. Delicate, nuanced, the essence of vine-ripe flavor — it trembled on the plate and palate rather than "bounced." I became a convert.
Because of this, I took a special interest in the congealed-dish recipes from contributors to the AJC's Southern Recipe Restoration Project, especially the ones described as "salads" no matter how much sugar or how little vegetable matter they contained. They are after all, as Miss Lewis would say, "real Southern."
One of the things I most like about being a chef is the opportunity to tempt diners into trying something they don't, or think they won't, like — whether it's beets or butter beans, oxtails or okra. In most cases, people's aversions to particular foods can be traced to a bad version they've encountered — say, tomato aspic, for example.
I wondered if I could get to the heart of what so many folks find special about these wiggly salads and transform them into something I could be proud of, that would appeal to both fans and skeptics alike.
But first, I would have to come to terms with my own Jell-O-phobia.
Sprinkling of memories
I sifted through the dozens of e-mails and handwritten recipes and was particularly struck by the often long, heartfelt letters accompanying them.
I loved Athens resident Maggie Attaberry's vivid memories of her grandmother pulling out a white bowl filled with red Jell-O from her refrigerator for the two of them to enjoy, and of her Aunt Helen serving individual molds of fruit gelatin mixed with buttermilk on a lettuce leaf.
Sally Curtis AsKew's Congealed Citrus Salad that originated with her mother's boss' annual Christmas gift of Indian River grapefruit and oranges appealed to me because it reminded me of the ambrosia that my grandmother made for our Thanksgiving Day table.
I was drawn to the uniqueness of Atlantan Lynn Zigler's Asparagus Congealed Salad entry — a vinegar Jell-O, really. Because of Southerners' affinity for sweet and sour foods, it seemed true to the region.
Now I was ready to taste these dishes for myself, and see if I could re-create the same basic flavors, but in a more natural way.
I studied the recipes carefully, shopped for ingredients and set to work. I chopped. I juiced. I stirred. I poured.
For days my refrigerator was filled with my various experiments, held in borrowed copper molds, loaf pans, stainless- steel bowls, even popover tins.
I tried them out on my staff and a few carefully chosen customers. They critiqued. I tweaked.
As the experiments progressed, and the recipes evolved, I began to imagine them on a china plate, cozied up next to generous slices of fresh roast turkey or honey-glazed ham.
And, I had to admit, those thoughts were beginning to make me hungry.
Lynn Ziglar of Atlanta, who operates a wedding planning business in Buckhead.
A native of Winston-Salem, N.C., Ziglar sent in this recipe, along with several others. Although she has studied French cooking, she says that ŇI donŐt think my children would come home if I didnŐt make these salads! I think itŐs a very Southern tradition to have something cold and jellied. I have some huge copper molds, and I like to make them in huge quantities; theyŐre always pretty to have on a buffet table.Ó
This salad, which came from a friend from Greensboro, she says, Ňis particularly good with sliced chicken sandwiches. ItŐs something I have made over and over again and get many requests for it. Canned asparagus to be used. I always look for the best quality I can find.Ó
Since asparagus isnŐt in season anyway, Scott Peacock chose different vegetables „ and simplified it, skipping the pimentos and pecans. ŇBut the sweetened vinegar base is essentially the same; the taste reminds me of bread and butter pickles.Ó
Asparagus Congealed Salad
Hands on: 20 minutes
4 1/2 or more hours, including chilling time
2 envelopes gelatin
1/2 cup plus 1 cup water
1/2 cup white vinegar
3/4 cup granulated sugar
1 teaspoon salt
1 (15-ounce) can asparagus tips, drained and cut in
1 inch pieces
1/2 cup hand-broken pecans
1/4 cup chopped pimentos
1 cup chopped celery
2 tablespoons grated onion
Juice of 1/2 lemon
Dissolve gelatin in 1/2 cup water and set aside. In a saucepan, heat 1 cup water, vinegar, sugar and salt until sugar dissolves. Add gelatin mixture and stir to dissolve. Set aside to cool.
When cool, add the asparagus, pecans, pimentos, celery, onion and lemon juice. Pour in an oiled mold and chill. Refrigerate for 4 or more hours.
120 calories (percent of calories from fat, 26), 2 grams protein, 22 grams carbohydrates, 2 grams fiber, 4 grams fat (trace saturated), no cholesterol, 232 milligrams sodium.
Sweet & Sour Cucumber Aspic
Hands on: 20 minutes
4 1/2 or more hours, including chilling time
1/2 cup cold water
2 envelopes plain gelatin
1 cup water
1/2 cup champagne vinegar
1 cup granulated sugar
1 scant teaspoon kosher salt
2 cups peeled and seeded cucumber, cut into 1/4 inch dice
1/2 cup thinly sliced green onion, white and green parts
1/2 cup celery, cut into 1/4 inch dice
Vegetable oil (optional), for greasing mold
Put the 1/2 cup cold water in a small bowl, and sprinkle over the unflavored gelatin to soften. In a nonreactive saucepan, put the 1 cup water, vinegar, sugar and salt. Cook and stir over medium heat until very hot and the sugar is dissolved. Remove from heat and stir in the softened gelatin.
Allow to cool completely. (I recommend stirring over a bowl of ice water until quite cold and just beginning to thicken.)
When vinegar mixture is completely cooled, stir in the cucumbers, green onion and celery. Pour into a 6-cup nonreactive mold that has been lightly oiled or rinsed with cold water. Wrap the mold with plastic wrap, and refrigerate for 4 hours or overnight.
When ready to unmold, dip the mold briefly (10 seconds) in a bowl of very hot water. Invert mold onto a serving dish.
120 calories (percent of calories from fat, 1), 1 gram protein, 31 grams carbohydrates, 1 gram fiber, trace fat (trace saturated), no cholesterol, 253 milligrams sodium.
Kathleen Allen, AttaberryŐs grandmother, was renowned for her big Sunday dinners consisting of fried chicken or chuck roast, sticky rice with black pepper-flecked cream gravy, and half-runner green beans cooked with a streak oŐ lean and topped with new potatoes.
Jean Jordan, a mother of two who lives in Alpharetta with her husband, Lenny. They raise bees and are also developing an organic berry farm.
There are gelatin salads and gelatin desserts, and then there are ?salad desserts? Ñ fruity gelatin concoctions that find their way onto dinner plates as well as in dessert bowls. This family favorite of Jordan?s is a prime example. It was popular at covered-dish suppers at her church. ?My mother made her own applesauce from our trees in the backyard, and she froze it instead of canning, so it had a very fresh flavor.? She added: ?I have her old accordion recipe folder, and had so much fun leafing through it to find these Jell-O desserts!?
Cinnamon Apple Salad Dessert*
15 servings
Hands on: 15 minutes
Total time: 3 hours, 15 minutes
You can use store-bought applesauce, but choose one with no added sugar.
2 (3-ounce) packages lemon-flavored Jell-O
* cup red cinnamon candies
2 cups boiling water
2 cups applesauce
1 tablespoon lemon juice
Dash of salt
1 (3-ounce) package cream cheese, chilled
* cup chopped nuts
Dissolve gelatin and candy in boiling water. Stir in applesauce, lemon juice and salt.
Chill until partially set. Form the cheese into tiny balls, or cut into small cubes. Stir the cream cheese and nuts into the gelatin mixture. Spoon into *-cup molds and chill until firm.
Per serving: 132 calories (percent of calories from fat, 31), 2 grams protein, 22 grams carbohydrates, 1 gram fiber, 5 grams fat (2 grams saturated), 6 milligrams cholesterol, 65 milligrams sodium.
Shelley Brown of Norcross, who works in the trade show industry.
We?re not big gelatin fans, but Vernelle?s Pear Salad is a family favorite that never ?goes begging,? as my North Carolinian mother used to say,? Brown wrote of this recipe that dates to the ?60s. ?She made it for Sunday dinners and family get-togethers, especially during summer weekends at the lake. It was served with meals, never as dessert.?
But as much as her family loved that dish, Brown added that ?it was never served to guests, only family, and I think this was because of the die-hard cultural attitude that gelatin is on the same C list with the canned soup, whipped topping and instant pudding. We just enjoyed it privately.?
After years of cooking and reading cookbooks, however, Brown has reconsidered gelatin. ?It can be really wonderful, especially when made from scratch. The French know this. I?ve had homemade ?beef jelly? at a dinner party in Paris that was divine Ñ clear, glistening cubes of tasty beef stock prepared by an old French cook employed by an old French dame. I have a very popular recipe from a Victorian cookbook for apple cider jelly, which I serve at Thanksgiving. From more modern sources, I have served Deborah Madison?s blood orange jelly, which I think is heavenly, and Maida Heatter?s Irish Coffee Jelly for St. Patrick?s Day.
?But Vernelle?s Pear Salad is different from the sophisticated clear jellies. It is dense and creamy and very American. When I lived in Paris and cooked mostly French food for dinner parties and my French boyfriend?s family, I occasionally slipped in some of my mother?s wonderful Southern recipes Ñ South Carolina buttermilk prune cake, Luscious Lemon Bars, and her pear salad. The French scraped their Limoges clean.
?Once, in Atlanta, I served it around midnight to a hungry Atlanta lawyer. He asked what I had to eat. Knowing the typical response to gelatin, I replied apologetically, ?Oh, not much I?m afraid, just a little gelatin dish.? After a few bites, he laughed and said, ?This is no little gelatin dish. May I please have more!? My mother smiled when she heard the story.?
Brown?s mother died last year, but the tradition lives on: ?Our faces always light up when we happily discover someone in the family made Vernelle?s Pear Salad.?
Per serving: 132 calories (percent of calories from fat, 31), 2 grams protein, 22 grams carbohydrates, 1 gram fiber, 5 grams fat (2 grams saturated), 6 milligrams cholesterol, 65 milligrams sodium.
Vernelle's Pear Salad
8 servings
Hands on: 15 minutes
*Total time: 3 hours, 15 minutes
This salad has a mellow flavor that makes it as good a side dish as it is a dessert.
1 (8-ounce) package cream cheese
1/4 cup milk
1 (29-ounce) can pears in syrup
1 (3-ounce) package lime gelatin
1 cup heavy cream
In a medium mixing bowl, beat cream cheese with milk. Drain pears over bowl, reserving juice. Measure 1 cup of pear juice and heat. Dissolve gelatin in hot pear juice. Pour over cream cheese and beat until well-combined. Mash pears with a fork until they are chunky but not pureed. Stir into the gelatin mixture. Whip the cream and fold into gelatin mixture. Pour into 5-cup mold and refrigerate until set. To unmold, partially immerse mold in warm water. Invert serving plate over mold, and then flip both over together. Lift mold off salad.
Per serving: 276 calories (percent of calories from fat, 67), 4 grams protein, 20 grams carbohydrates, 2 grams fiber, 21 grams fat (13 grams saturated), 72 milligrams cholesterol, 128 milligrams sodium.
Dotty Bailey of Tucker.
?I grew up in Virginia-Highland, and when I was a teenager, this Jell-O mold was a part of every family Christmas celebration at my parent?s home,? Bailey wrote. ? Mom [Doris Morgan] worked on her B.A and her M.A. at Georgia State University while I was growing up, and often shared recipes with the other ladies in the Education department. I suspect that this recipe came through a swap down at GSU.
?Mom?s classmates also threw the occasional Tupperware party, which is where she got the mold for this salad. It was a deep round fluted mold, and at the bottom (the bottom as you pour in the Jell-O; it is the top of the completed mold later) there was a snap-in lid. Each mold came with several snap-in lids, each with its own shape that it left in the top of the finished mold. The only one that Mom ever used was the Christmas tree. Mom died in 2002, but this recipe is still one of my favorites. Now that I my home is the ?holiday gathering spot, every year one of my kids checksÑ just to make sureÑthat this salad will be on the table.?
Strawberry Jell-O Salad
10 servings
Hands on: 15 minutes
Total time: 2 hours
Dotty Bailey makes this healthier version: Omit the nuts and sour cream; pour it into a 9-by-13-inch baking dish sprayed with cooking spray. Refrigerate until firm. Cut into squares and serve.
1 large (20-ounce) can crushed pineapple in its own juice
1 large (0.6-ounce) package strawberry Jell-O
1 (12- to 16-ounce) box or carton of sweetened, sliced frozen strawberries* partially thawed
2-3 bananas, sliced in 1/4? rounds
1 cup chopped pecans
1 cup sour cream
Mayonnaise (or vegetable oil) for greasing mold
Drain pineapple, reserving juice. Add water to juice to make 1 cup. Heat to boiling and pour over Jell-O in a large bowl. Stir for at least 3 minutes or until very well dissolved. Add frozen strawberries
and stir until they are thawed and Jell-O is slightly thickened. Add pineapple, banana slices and pecans; mix well. Grease mold with a thin layer of mayonnaise (or vegetable oil).
Pour half of the Jell-O mixture in the mold, spread evenly and place in refrigerator. Leave the remaining Jell-O at room temperature. When the mold is firm, spread the sour cream over the congealed Jell-O, then top with the room-temperature Jello and place back in refrigerator until set.
When ready to serve, run a few inches of hot water in kitchen sink. Dip mold for a few seconds, then unmold onto a plate.
Per serving, with pecans and sour cream: 190 calories (percent of calories from fat, 48), 2 grams protein, 24 grams carbohydrates, 2 grams fiber, 11 grams fat (3 grams saturated), 9 milligrams cholesterol, 15 milligrams sodium.
Per serving, without pecans and sour cream: 83 calories (percent of calories from fat, 2), 1 gram protein, 22 grams carbohydrates, 2 grams fiber, trace fat (trace saturated fat), no cholesterol, 5 milligrams sodium.
Sheryl Mays of Stone Mountain
I want to honor my mother, Virginia Ahola, by submitting this recipe she got when we lived in Texas as children,? wrote Mays, one of several contributors of this recipe, or something very similar. ? The source is unknown. Mom made this at Thanksgiving and Christmas for many years. Now that my sister, brother-in-law, and I cook for her, we carry on the traditions Ñ corn bread dressing, butterhorns (yeast rolls) and this congealed salad.
Bing Cherry Salad
6 servings
Hands on: 20 minutes
Total time: 3 hours 20 minutes
Warns Mays: ?This mixture looks rather disgusting but, trust me, tastes great.?
1 (15-ounce) can dark, sweet cherries in heavy syrup
1 (3-ounce) package Black Cherry Jell-O
6 ounces Philadelphia Cream Cheese, softened
§ cup chopped pecans
1 cup crushed pineapple (from a 20-ounce can), drained well
§ cup diced celery
8 ounces Classic Coca-Cola
Place a strainer over a bowl and empty the contents of the canned cherries, reserving the syrup. Slice the cherries in half. Add enough water to the syrup to make 1 cup liquid. In a small saucepan, bring the liquid to a boil. Remove from heat and add the Jell-O, stirring to dissolve.
Place the cream cheese in a mixing bowl and pour the warm Jell-O over it. Whisk to blend, leaving some small chunks of the cream cheese. Add the cherries, pecans, drained pineapple, celery and Coke. Spray a 5-cup mold with cooking spray and pour the mixture into the mold. Chill until set. To unmold, partially immerse the mold in a bowl of warm water. Invert a serving plate over the mold, and then flip the mold and plate over. Lift the mold off of the plated salad.
Per serving: 322 calories (percent of calories from fat, 50), 5 grams protein, 37 grams carbohydrates, 3 grams fiber, 19 grams fat (7 grams saturated), 31 milligrams cholesterol, 136 milligrams sodium.



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