Watch it glimmer...

...see it shimmer! Yes, that is correct, after nearly a three month absence from this space, I am back to talk about Jell-o! It is easier to swallow than some of the other topics we could discuss. (Oh boy, should I even come back?) 

I have many fond memories of standing at the kitchen counter waiting for the jello powder to dissolve as my grandmother stirred. The glorious artificial fruity smell and that clink of the spoon against the metal bowl. The finished product took its time to chill, but there was instant gratification in the small juice glass of that warm sweet elixir my grandmother allowed me. There was no asking for more as the rectangular pan disappeared quickly into the refrigerator. When the time came, she approached the firm gelatin with the same neatness and precision she did all tasks. Orderly lines were cut and cubes were dished out. Plain and simple, and in my opinion, delicious. I did not want to see any form of matter suspended in my jello, nothing to interrupt the squish. The thought of shredded carrots is still especially horrifying to me.

Our family was not completely resistant to change and newfangled ideas, so we did adopt an orange jello recipe as a staple for nearly every event. What are you even trying to celebrate if there isn't a bowl of orange jello stirred up with mandarin orange segments and Cool Whip? Maybe someone gets a wild hair and tries a raspberry version instead. The occasional jello mold would make an appearance as well. I recall my mind being nearly blown at around eight years old the first time I saw Knox blox. I could eat jello with my hands? Better still, the platter at the family reunion was unguarded? That was definitely my first experience with the wiggle and jiggle that was not subjected to portion control.

Flash forward to when I was a senior in high school suffering from some sort of a head cold. A friend told me he was going to stop by with "hot pop", which was his family's version of chicken soup. I anxiously awaited to see what this miracle cure could consist of. Imagine my delight that it was a mug of warm jello! It amuses me when these perceived indulgences we have as children, come back around later in life causing us to realize that we can have as much as we want. Sometimes you just cannot chase the original thrill, like most sodas no longer taste the way I expect them too after the bubbles tickle my nose, but others stay true. 

The dining hall at college always had jiggling cubes, cut with precision. One of my roommates was so grossed out seeing anyone eat jello, claiming it had something to do with watching the "chewing". So like the best part? Suffice to say, I tried every color they offered, sometimes warning her and sometimes not. 

My husband and I were invited to a fifties party years ago, We dressed accordingly and were treated to recipes made from cookbooks of the era. There was a jeweled jello mold that just made the evening feel even more fun, like I was somehow seeing an old friend who I immediately recognized despite how fancy she had become.

My husband is not one to request any kind of gelatin dessert on a regular basis. However, when his pre-op*  clear liquid diet included jello as an option, I strongly suggested he let me make him some. I let him pick the color as I am not completely selfish. Maybe I just wanted a little bit of comfort that could be found in the memory of that warm glass...

...but that was short lived as when I went to help myself to some cubes later...

...I saw what a savage I am married to.

*The surgery went well and I'll tell you about it another time.