Call It By Another Name If You Need To

Cranberry Frosty Salad

It's possible that you need to be over 60 to like a congealed salad. (If you aren't familiar with the term, congealed salad is a mixture of Jello and fruit and likely other ingredients.) I'm sure what the actual cut-off age is, but I cannot think of one person the age of my grown children who would want to eat it. They not only won't eat it, but they will tell you in no uncertain terms what they think of the concept. They do not hold back when telling you what they think. Let's just leave it at they are not in favor of them.

When I grew up, there was one on every Sunday dinner table. From the classy tomato aspic to the simplest orange jello with canned fruit cocktail stirred in. There was something for everyone. There are the fancier salads with pretzel crusts and some folks love concoctions of lime jello, cream cheese, crushed pineapple and nuts. Variations of congealed salads include ones that mix dry jello, cottage cheese, Cool Whip and fruit, plus the fruit/cream cheese mixtures that are served frozen. Confession...I like them all. I must be the right age.

And molded Jello salads. Do they still exist? I gave away all of my Tupperware salad molds—a large ring mold and a set of individual molds—a long time ago. When and if I make a congealed salad now, it goes into an oblong dish where it can be cut into squares for serving. If you've never had congealed salad, you need to know that it is served as a side dish, like macaroni and cheese or rice and gravy. Side dishes that are not vegetables. I saw banana pudding listed as a side on a menu this week. It's a southern thing.  

I'll admit that writing this down, I might understand why millennials don't crave these. Maybe it's the word "congealed." But I still like a good gelatin salad. (Yes. There ARE many good ones.) They still show up on every church covered dish dinner in a rainbow of colors. At least they do here in the South.

Will congealed salads ever make a come back? Most things do at some point. Maybe the salads will have a new name. If that happens. and you don't have a recipe of your own, try this one. Or, check out old church or community cookbooks. (They are more fun than Google.) I looked at a few of mine today. All are filled with congealed salad recipes. And all of those cookbooks are 40-50 years old. 

Even though I do like a congealed salad, I rarely make them. But this particular recipe pairs so well with my Hot Chicken Salad that I'm serving tonight for book club, that I needed to make it. This is like a dressed up cranberry sauce. And all of us are of a proper age to eat it. I'll share the chicken salad recipe later this week.

I usually leave off the "frosty" part when I make this. It's delicious, but it's nearly a dessert when served with the topping. Plus, without the topping, it's only four ingredients. How easy is that? But I will say that it's prettier with the topping. So it's your choice.

CRANBERRY FROSTY SALAD

1 (14-oz) can crushed pineapple
2 (3-oz) boxes lemon jello
1 cup ginger ale
1 (14-oz) can jellied cranberry sauce

1 (8-oz) block cream cheese, softened
1 (2-oz) package dessert topping mix, such as Dream Whip
1/2 cup chopped pecans

Drain pineapple, reserving juice. Add water to juice to make 1 cup. Heat until juice/water mix is boiling. Dissolve jello in hot liquid. Cool. Gently stir in ginger ale. Chill until partially set.
Meanwhile, blend drained pineapple and cranberry sauce. Fold into partially set jello mixture. Pour into 9x9x2-inch dish. Or, you can use a 2-qt oblong dish. Chill until firm.

Prepare dessert topping according to package directions. Fold in cream cheese. Spread over firm jello mixture. Toast pecans in 1 tablespoon butter in 350º oven for about 10 minutes. (Watch carefully! Don't burn!) Sprinkle cooled nuts over salad. Chill.


This salad is in my little red plaid handwritten cookbook that I started using in the early 1970s. It's near the beginning of the book, so I'm guessing I added it soon after I got the book. Since then, ingredients have changed a little. Today I couldn't find crushed pineapple in syrup. I never buy it anymore. Maybe no one else does either. So I changed the recipe to use pineapple in juice. And canned cranberry sauce? It's now comes in a 14-oz can, not 16-oz. (I'm pretty sure you can still buy Dream Whip.) I've rewritten the recipe to match the current products.

So many recipes I have used and loved call for packaged or canned ingredients that either no longer exist, or the sizes have changed substantially. To me it's a sign that we really should focus on real ingredients. An onion is an onion forever. Like flour, sugar, vegetables, fruits, nuts. The recipes that call for those won't change unless we want them to. Just a thought.