Suburban Tasteland

From the Land O' Lakes Box: Red Hots Salad

Editor’s Note: This column is devoted to recipes and food-related stories from my life, mostly from childhood and adolescence, which is when food is most new or interesting or gross. The Land O' Lakes reference comes from a recipe box my Grandma C. gave me a couple years ago that is designed to look like a Land O' Lakes butter box. It is filled with all of my mother’s family’s traditional recipes, all handwritten on cards or old scraps of paper.

I’m generally not a fan of Jello-based salads. A big mound of jiggly red gelatin with specks of Lord-knows-what inside just doesn’t kickstart the salivaries for me. The main problem is the stark contrast in texture of the soft Jello with the hard, cold chunks of pineapple and other questionables. And as an adult, I generally feel that Jello is a tragic waste of calories. However, my Grandma C., probably sometime long before my birth, repaired all the wrongs of the generic Jello salad, mainly by adding two ingredients: applesauce and the time-honored candy, Red Hots.

This recipe takes the Jello, adds texture with applesauce, spices it up with Red Hots, giving it a cinnamon kick, and then, according to C., the optionals are pineapple, celery, and nuts. Frankly, I wasn’t aware those were optional, so for the purposes of this post and for honoring the great Red Hots Salad, they are essential.

I’ve never known a Thanksgiving without Red Hots Salad. And though it kind of looked like an alien mold with the kitchen sink thrown in (when is celery and applesauce ever in the same bowl?), it married perfectly with the rest of the grub. With its solid, but saucey texture and reddish color, it competed with cranberry sauce as the fruity/salady item. And as such, it was not a bad thing when it happened to seep into the mashed potatoes or a piece of gravy-covered turkey. And it’s the item that after you’ve gone up to the buffet twice, you go up a third time to get another helping of the stuff, no matter how bad of an idea that might be to your expanding stomach.

As I’ve progressed rapidly into adulthood, I’ve enjoyed sharing these family curiosities with AC, whose reactions are both funny (Oh my God, this is amazing!) and familiar to my own reactions, as my untrained palate as a child tried to understand what I was eating.

So whenever AC and I are back in Texas for Christmas, we request, no require, Red Hots Salad. And Grandma C. always obliges. Here’s the transcript from the hand-written card:

Recipe for: Applesauce Salad (Editor’s Note: This is my Grandma’s name for it, but I’ve always known it as Red Hots Salad)

“THE salad you kids always want.”

From: Grandma C.

1 pkg orange Jello
3 Tbsps red hot candies
1 can applesauce
1 cup boiling water

Add: pineapple,  nuts, celery. “I always add all of the above.” —Grandma C.

“Put red hots in water and bring to boil. Add to Jello and stir until dissolved. Add rest of ingredients. Pour in mold, and refrigerate.”

—AKC

The Right Rice Part 2: Rice Pudding

Generally, I'm not a fan of rice pudding, mainly because of the added texture. Also, most of the time, the rice is al dente, not creamy like I need it to be. But, as I mentioned in a previous post, I thought, due to the small grains and inherent creamy deliciousness of sushi rice, it would make for killer rice pudding. And I was right.

One of the things that befalls me when I'm planning on making something new is that I forget to take inventory of what I have and don't have before going out to procure ingredients. That usually results in either overbuying baking powder, or forgetting eggs, or some combination thereof. In this case, I forgot to buy milk. Generally, we are soy people, except we require dairy in our coffee and tea, and we love yogurt. So, the result was, unhealthfully enough, that I would be using half-and-half. That's right, folks, I made rice pudding with half-and-half, and it was amazing. Sure, I was thinking the whole time how I will need to do a few extra RPMs on the bike this week, but it really was heaven. Even AC approved, and he is rather particular about his rice pudding.

And in case you're interested in committing a similar crime against your arteries, just take this painfully easy recipe, and substitute milk for half-and-half (truth be told, next time I will probably use equal parts milk and half-and-half). Other modifications included adding a bit of almond extract and cooking the pudding a couple minutes longer for extra-extra thickness. And that's it, really delicious, not-so-good-for-you rice pudding. Enjoy.

And speaking of doing wonderful things with limited means/supplies and a whole heck of a lot of creativity, I urge you to check out my friend Sarah's new video blog, The Pink of Perfection, which teaches us how to live a luxe life on little.

—AK

The Right Rice

I have found my rice passion: sushi rice. Here's why:

1. I've burned my fair share of pots of rice. But this stuff, it doesn't burn. It just won't.

2. The grains are small, and when it's cooked just right (about 15 minutes), it comes out so fluffy and a bit sticky. And I love rice that seems to cook itself in to a giant monolithic rice pallet.

3. It's great with anything. Mexican, stir fry, and it just dawned on me that it's probably amazing for rice pudding. I'll get back to you on that.

—AK

PS: I get my sushi rice at the trusty Cash Grocer natural foods store in Old Town Alexandria.