I know the last time I wrote about venturing into the kitchen, it was a catalogue of what can go wrong. But this time, I have hit the veritable jackpot. Before I can go any further, I have to admit that I wound up eating all of the 7 Layer Bar Cookies (which I was railing against like it had been dropped off by Satan’s catering service) and have made several batches and eaten them, alone, since then. Oh, the shame of midnight refrigerator raids.
So, earlier this evening, I was remembering Lime Jello Marshmallow Cottage Cheese Surprise, a little patter song often spoken of over at Cafe Muscato where Muscato uses it to evoke the madness of our suburban foremothers.
What is, exactly, Lime Jello Marshmallow Cottage Cheese Surprise, I idly wondered. The problem with the Internet is no wonder is so idle you cannot drill down to it. It turns out there are a number of different variations on what is, essentially, a tarted up molded Jello. I’m sure each deviation is defended as the best by its legions to the bloody death. The innovations ranged from dumping marshmallows over half set jello and then dumping that, in turn, on cottage cheese up to one that included a step of boiling cream cheese. I’m not convinced that is even possible, and I do not plan on finding out.
The one that won my attention was the one for which I had all the ingredients and sounded the least ridiculous. And you know what? It’s delicious. I know the food snobs (and I count myself among you) will sniff derisively, but there’s a reason all those bridge clubs ignored the sarcasm in a song deriding them and their salads.
And what reason could that be? Because it so fucking yummy. Sometimes mother really does know best.
For those not interested in concotions which will win the undying jealous hatred of the other DWA girls, here’s a warm beef surprise.