Grandma, Grandpa and Jello

It looked like an ordinary jello salad.  An ordinary YELLOW jello salad sitting on a piece of lettuce, on a pretty salad plate, to the left of our dinner plates.  Grandma had a veritable feast prepared for us.  She must have spent hours putting this meal together.  Slow roasted beef, boiled potatoes shiny from the butter toss, cooked carrots and peas, homemade bread warm from the oven, and the ordinary yellow jello salad.  We prayed before the meal. 

Grandpa and Grandma had invited Paul, my fiancé, and I over so they could meet him. We were visiting my parents that week from Michigan and took a day to visit Grandpa and Grandma, in the nearby town of Edgerton, Minnesota.  Farm country.  It was good to be back in Edgerton.  We were enveloped in their embraces and kisses and invited in.

As we ate our meal, we talked about when Grandpa and Grandma lived on the farm.  They shared stories of how the brutal winters made it necessary for a rope to be tied from the house to the barn so that during the blizzards, they could still reach the barn to feed the animals, and then return to the house safely.  They had recently moved to “the city” after selling off their land, their house, and the out buildings.  I missed their farm.  Conversation among us felt comfortable and familiar.  The food felt like we were home.  And then, as if it had been choreographed, Paul and I both took a bite of the jello.  The transparent jello, with unknown items suspended in it, remained a mystery.  Until, that is, when Paul and I simultaneously placed a good portion of it in our mouths.   Jello can be such a fun food to eat.  We loved it as children.  Grandma had put shredded carrots in this yellow jello just like my mom would do.  Hmmm, I thought, what could that be?  Oh, fruit cocktail?   But.  Wait.  What.  Is.  In.  My.  Mouth?  Paul turned and looked at me and I could tell he wanted to extract the mysterious food from his mouth.  We swallowed.  I took my fork and pushed the jello around, all the while conversing with my grandparents, and examining the salad plate further.  My probing produced an offal substance.  Corned beef.  Cubed.   The roof of my mouth was now coated as if I had taken a bite out of a bacon candle.

I later told my mom about the great dinner Grandma made, about the captivating stories they shared, and I mentioned the jello salad, and she giggled.  “Oh, I have that recipe if you want it.”   

We now have a family cookbook and the recipe for Corned Beef Gelatin Salad is forever preserved.  Just like a can of corned beef.

3 oz. package lemon gelatin

1 ½ cups hot water

2 T. vinegar

1 can corned beef, cut in small pieces

½ tsp. salt

3 cups shredded carrots

1 cup drained peas

1 onion, finely minced

1 cup finely diced celery

3 hard-cooked eggs, chopped

1 cup mayonnaise

Dissolve gelatin in hot water.  Add vinegar.  Cool until syrupy; then add remaining ingredients.  Pour into a mold or a 9X13 inch pan and chill until firm.  If desired, 2 T. of horseradish may be added to mayonnaise.