[reposted from la Vie Sirene]
Narrative recipe from contributor Susan Brooks Fleming
Narrative recipe from contributor Susan Brooks Fleming
Editor’s note: This healthful take on the classic recipe is notably sans marshmallows or cream, allowing the fruits alone to tempt and satisfy the tastebuds.
Grandmother always prepared a fruit salad call Ambrosia. Since that is considered what the gods and goddesses dined on, this might be something to share with your readers.
First, there are not specific amounts here. The number of things you use depends on the size of the bowl you wish to fill. At Christmas time, Aunt Joyce and I would sit for hours on the 'day before' preparations peeling oranges.
Peel the oranges with a sharp knife so that all of the white stuff is gone. Section and seed the orange, squeeze the juice after the sections are freed.
If you have chosen to use fresh coconut, which is amazing, crack it, get the white meat out of the layers of shell and grate the coconut. Depending on how well you like coconut, about half a coconut is what you need. We always did half because Grandmother prepared coconut cake as well.
Grandmother always used canned pineapple because for so many years a fresh pineapple wasn't available. The use of canned pineapple (crushed or chunks) removes the need to add sugar to the mixture.
Have pecans and maraschino cherries in side dishes for garnish. Dad was usually sitting at the dining room table shelling the pecans.
Mix the oranges, pineapple and coconut together. It's best if made the day before and let to chill and soak the flavors together. The nuts and cherries are not added because not everyone wants that on the ambrosia. Once made it's up to the individual how they choose to sweeten or not sweeten the concoction. This is a real fly by the seat of your pants dish.
Interesting ambrosia story. Once when we came back home after the holiday was had a quart jar of ambrosia. It stayed in the refrigeration long enough to ferment. My mother and I divided the jar, deciding that it would be a great lunch. Imagine Dad's surprise when he found us giggling and slightly drunk in the kitchen.