A brief, but still too long, preface:

I love old cookbooks. The look of them, being able to measure the change of culinary sensibilities, the vaguely racist American interpretations of “ethnic” cuisine, the unappetizing color schemes, the kitsch element… they’re perfect artifacts.

A few months ago while in the process of moving, my grandparents started unloading the massive collection of stuff they had been accumulating for the better half of the twentieth century. Amid the rubble of broken spigots, empty Cool Whip containers, $2 bills, and expired pasta, was a stack of immaculately kept promotional cookbooks from the 40s-60s. Some were genuinely great finds, notably the Victory Meal Planner, printed in 1942 by the New York State Bureau of Milk Publicity, which contains classic war time favorites such as “Cornmeal Surprise Ring with Vegetables and Creamed Meat” and “Savory Veal Birds” to ensure the healthy yet rationed diets of American families.

The crown jewel among them though was The Joys of Jell-O. A 95 page compendium of the best recipes made with everyone’s favorite gelatinous fruit favored treat. I use best loosely for reasons that will later become clear, if they haven’t already been assumed. Of course, it contains the classics like that Jello/Cool Whip “mousse” that every mom everywhere has made for a block party. But some more troubling savory fare that I imagine is most palatable after half a dozen cocktails.  

Not being content enough to just prominently display this culinary relic on my coffee table, I decided that I’m going to make every recipe that The Joys of Jell-O has to offer. A decision that is, at least in part, motivated by current unemployment. So, I’m going to do it. And have life changing revelations in the process that I also write about, using Jello as a metaphor.

Without Further Ado:

              
Chicken Salad Surprise.

It might at first appear that the surprise is Jello, but given that the other ingredients include a salad topped with both olives and pineapple tidbits it’s anyone’s game.

              
I wanted to start off with a bang and cookery doesn’t get more intense than savory mayonnaise/poultry based salads preserved in sugary lime gelatin. To be honest this was far more appetizing than I anticipated, which is to say that it was mildly palatable. I couldn’t eat more than a small serving, but according to my friends that I had try it it was eatable and even kind of good. At least that’s what they told me, maybe to just be polite. The worst part was the aforementioned pineapple tidbits and olives, which is a disgusting combination that shouldn’t exist.

              
My friend, Andy Rocco enjoying his second serving

Admittedly, I deviated from the method of presentation the book suggests by making the mold into the shape of deer rather than small cubes. This was largely because I only own one pan and it’s conveniently in the shape of a deer. Maybe I’ll get some more pans.

For all the seemingly incongruent elements of Chicken Salad Surprise (with the exception of the profoundly revolting pineapple tidbits and olives), it came together in way that I feel so often mirrors my own life. It’s so easy to get stuck on the small details. Jello and red wine vinegar just together might not seem right. But it isn’t until you add the mayonnaise and chicken that you really get a grasp on the big picture.