It shows up at just about every funeral lunch in northern Minnesota. A big bowl of pink fluff, usually involving red Jello, Cool Whip, sour cream, and mini marshmallows. Maybe some fruit such as crushed pineapple or mandarin oranges. Purely optional. They call it salad. No veggies lurk in its cloudy interior. Could any bowl possibly contain a higher sugar content? I recently took it to a book club gathering where we discussed a sci fi book. I called it “Space Salad”. It was warmly received.
And BTW, does anyone remember the “Joys of Jello” cookbook from the 1960’s? Shocking recipes that paired orange Jello with carrots and (God forbid) celery. Sacrilege. Salad by definition only.
Then there was the single lone iceberg wedge that sat naked on the plate and filled the “salad” role. French dressing or (shudder) plain old mayo. And I dimly remember a popular construction of flat lettuce leaf, mound of cottage cheese, pineapple ring, banana half plunked in the middle, and tiny sliver of cheddar cheese tucked on top. We called it “Candle Salad”. It was a great way to get the kids to eat their fruit.
My point? When you hear the pessimists declare that all is lost, remind them that some things in our culture have improved, notably in the salad realm. Just think of how our cuisine has elevated as cultures have combined. Taco salad. Greek salad, with piquant olives and feta. Italian salad, robust with prosciutto and mozzarella. On it goes. Or just dare to throw some grapes, cheddar, or chopped walnuts into that green salad. Go wild! And we haven’t even discussed the variety of greens that are increasingly well known.
It’s a whole new world of healthy, yummy combos.