By Kathy Hughes
Contributing Writer
In the not so recent past, preparations for holidays and special occasions meant bringing out the Jell-O mold. Over the decades between 1960 and 1980, Jell-O salads and desserts became increasingly elaborate and ever more popular. It was competitive — having the latest fad Jell-O recipe on the table was a matter of pride. What I want to know is “what” or “who” killed the Jell-O?
Recently, as I was about to shift into high holiday mode, I was struck down by a sore throat that scored a “9” on a 10-point scale. I could barely swallow, and, as I was also supposedly preparing for a colonoscopy, I had two boxes of Jell-O on hand (in addition to the popsicles, broth and ginger ale on the approved clear liquid list). I followed the ancient but familiar recipe, combining the two boxes, lemon and pineapple. Wow! This stuff was good, and unbelievably soothing. Whatever happened to Jell-O, anyway?
One practice that killed it for me was the square lime Jell-O and pears, crouching on a wilted lettuce leaf that appeared in every cafeteria line since I was in high school. Not only was it mundane, it looked tired and unappetizing. What happened to the lemon Jell-O with carrots, pineapple and occasionally chopped nuts that my mother used to make? It was prepared in a mold, a shape that had no name, except a “Jell-O mold.”
This was only the beginning of the Jell-O craze. Later on, we were to be treated with black cherry Jell-O, filled with bing cherries, once again, nuts and iced with cream cheese. Whipped Jell-O, combined with fruit, was an ambrosia saved for special occasions.
The height of Jell-O elegance, in my opinion, was the multi-layered, jewel colored Jell-O served in a clear, glass trifle dish. This masterpiece required five boxes of Jell-O: lime, orange, lemon, cherry, strawberry; and one box of unflavored gelatin. Fruit to be added: pineapple (rings and tidbits), mandarin oranges, fruit cocktail, maraschino cherries, blueberries, strawberries, (sliced and whole); plus, orange sherbet, heavy cream, sugar and vanilla extract. It took hours to make since each layer had to gel before adding the next one. It not only looked beautifully elegant, but it tasted wonderful.
Perhaps, the beginning of the end for Jell-O was the commercials featuring Bill Cosby. The ads were aimed at children, and trivialized Jell-O into a colorful, jiggly, toy food. It may have been appetizing, but was not the sort of concoction one would serve at a formal dinner.
The all-but-complete downfall of Jell-O was the advent of the health food craze, which became linked with political correctness. The kind woman who brought lime Jell-O with cottage cheese to our Saturday night suppers was held up for ridicule. Still, I noticed that I was not the only one who took a helping, and that there was never any left over.
