Raspberry Jello Salad

This may just be the easiest recipe I ever post. One of those dump-it-all-in and stir-all-together dishes that ends up tasting deliciously wonderful. In fact, the most difficult thing about it is waiting the four hours until it sets. 

My mom made this "salad" a lot when I was in high school. It's a sweet dish with pungent bits of slightly tart berries. It makes a nice, bright accompaniment to a ham dinner or serve it as a cool treat when the weather is hot. Not to mention, that brilliant red color screams Independence Day picnics. It's also easy to make ahead and requires no oven. The perfect accompaniment to nestle between your hot dog and potato salad. 

Summit Salad Dressing (Sesame & Poppyseed)

My windows are open. The first hints of spring are wafting through, a sunny breeze bearing the beginnings of new life. Jack and I open the back door, previously sealed from the winter cold, and bang through the screen door to the backyard. The lilacs are heavy with large, purple blossoms and big, old bumblebees are bobbing from bunch to bunch, burying themselves in the colorful bower. The grass is springing up in tall, brilliant patches, threatening to take over the yard by pure exuberance. We bury our toes in it. It's soft and alive and tickles our bare feet. 

We find half a bird egg, of palest blue and spattered with brown speckles. Jack is in awe of it, holding it in his hands and threatening to crush it with his two-year-old wonder. We put the egg on the sill, anxious to show Daddy later. 

The sun is so warm on our heads, spilling luxuriously over our matching brown hair. Jack runs from end to end of the yard, for the pure joy of it. He crouches over the dirt, spying a troop of ants, busily marching from here to there, and back yet again. Jack interrupts their monotony with his dump truck, the plastic treads diverting their insect march. 

Spring has come again.

Ribbon Salad

My mom, a young married woman with no children yet, sat guiltily in her seat at her in-law's kitchen table. It was lunch time and leftovers from the night before were being pulled out of the fridge for the noonday meal.

Her mother-in-law's voice rung out from the depths of the fridge in a distinct Maine accent, "Well, I was sure I put a whole ribbon salad away last night, but here there are two pieces missing!" 

My mom looked down at her plate and busied herself with the silverware as her sisters-in-law began trying to pinpoint the guilty party.

Wendy's Cranberry Salad

I met my mother-in-law before I even met my husband. I like to tease him that he stood me up on a double date to the amusement park, but he swears it doesn't count. Anyway, I met his parents for lunch that day and instantly felt comfortable. Such gracious people. 

Wendy Jo is a spunky women that raised four energetic boys---each two years apart, sporting dark hair, brown eyes and no shirts in summer. She's a tomboy at heart, happiest when she's outdoors, enjoying nature and sunshine. She even had a pet squirrel in high school. She holds onto material things loosely and people tightly. I've never seen her be anything but warm and loving to the people who filter through her home. When anything disquieting happens, she simply says, "I'll pray about that" and you know she is. 

The entire family gathered together for thanksgiving this year. Twelve people, down to the littlest newborn, arranged at a long table down the center of the living room. There was turkey and stuffing and sweet potatoes, the normal delicious fare. And this cranberry salad. A vibrant, crunchy side, filled with fruits and veggies and nuts. I've never had it anywhere else and look forward to it every thanksgiving we spend with Brad's side of the family. It reminds me of her---bright, sweet and chock-full of good things. 

Orange Jello Salad

I am fortunate to remember knowing three of my great-grandparents, all on my mom's side. Grandma Tippie-Toes, mom's paternal grandmother lived to be 101 and died when I was a teenager. I have many memories of laughing at her quirky ways and funny sayings. Grandpa Armond and Grandma Dorothy, mom's maternal grandparents, died when I was four, so my memories of them are few, but vivid. 

Pink Dressing

The air hangs thick in the summer. Cheerful bright mornings quickly dissolve into the oppressiveness of a muggy afternoon. The dog-days of summer sap the energy and strength from you, causing early-morning goals to remain stranded on your to-do list. Especially goals involving standing over a hot stove or leaving the oven on for hours at a time. The heavy humidity and laid-back feel of summer beg for the refreshing ease of a green salad.

Joei's Pasta Salad

Hot, summer days come with their own special fare. Many Americans spend these lazy, dog days grilling stacks of hamburgers, hot dogs or even steak, if they feel like splurging. Tables are laden with large tubs of juicy watermelon slices, piles of sweet corn-on-the-cob and various condiments. Anything cold, easy, or grilled makes the menu to ease the pain of cooking in the sweltering heat. Often a flag cake or other sweet treat graces the end of the table, a promise of something heavenly to top off already-bulging stomachs.