When I was a very small child, my mom dressed me up in my blue and white polka-dot coat and took me to see Santa. She did not go up to Santa with me, but my brothers did. We sat on Santa’s lap and told him what we wanted for Christmas. When we returned to my mom’s side, she took my brothers aside and asked them what I told Santa I wanted. Disgustedly, my 4-year old brothers told my mom I wanted a blueberry birthday cake.
A picture of me ran in the paper that year. I’m wide-eyed as I held up my knitted mitten to greet Santa.
40 years later, my eyes aren’t that wide. I still wear blue and white polka dots. I still have odd conversations with old men, although not usually while sitting on their laps. My brothers are still confounded by me, but less disgusted. Any knitted mittens I wear now, I knit myself. The request for blueberry birthday cake has become a request for much more practical things. (And I’m adult now, I’ll eat blueberry birthday cake any time I want to, I don’t have to wait for Christmas.)
This is where it would be completely awesome for me to whip out my recipe for blueberry cake of some sort and tell you all that it makes Christmas dinner perfect, but, sadly, I don’t have that recipe in my collection. What I do have, though, is Holiday Confetti Salad.
Doesn’t that just sound like a party in your mouth?
(Insert your favorite dad joke here about “throwing” this dish together or “tossing” the salad. You know, because of “Confetti”.)
You know, when I think Christmas dinner, I don’t think about crown roast or fruitcake (although I have some of that sitting in sherry getting ready for Christmas), I just imagine cutting into a nicely molded congealed salad. Holiday Confetti Salad does not disappoint.
Lime, celery, pineapple, and cherries combine with cream cheese and whipped cream to create a pale green cloud flecked with small red bits. The Holiday Confetti Salad is quite festive looking, especially when garnished with more maraschino cherries and celery leaves.
I made this before I had proper molds, so the only pictures I have of this beautiful salad are in a glass bowl. I’d love it if someone else made this and posted pictures for me to see.
The Recipe:
If you like this recipe, check out Fluffy Orange Salad, 24, 24 Hour Salad, Something Different Rhubarb Salad, and Blueberry Salad Mold.
By contrast, the simpler named, simpler prepared Macaroni and Cheese was an overall more satisfying dish. While also custard based, it did not require a water bath to cook. There were few ingredients, but the addition of bread crumbs created a more interesting dish. 
By the time this post publishes, I will be on a work trip to Canada. My husband and kids will be home by themselves. Because I’m me, I want to have some things prepared for them to eat before I leave. It’s just easier for everyone if they don’t have to think about it. Plus it makes it less likely that they will default to pizza every night that they aren’t eating boxed macaroni and cheese. My husband is a getting to be a much better cook because he’s had to take over a lot of the initial meal prep with our work schedules, but when the cat’s away, the mice will play. (Which is a really gross cliche to put on a food blog.)
And speaking of making sure my family is taken care of, I decided to take my blog writing on the road today and worked from a coffee shop this morning. The boys are with their dad and we brought the girl with us because she’s been wanting to get back there and play in their super cool kid area. The coffee shop is known as the town’s living room. We chose a table near the kids’ area, got her a muffin and a chocolate milk that she won’t eat or drink until much later because she already had 3 breakfasts and really just wanted to play. There were a couple of women sitting at table near us. One of them was slightly younger than the other, but if someone had said that they both had grandchildren, I wouldn’t be surprised. Except, I kind of feel like neither of them had ever had kids since they started loudly talking about how terrible we are for bringing our child to a coffee shop and not spending time with her. One of them looked like an old church lady. She would lean forward and whisper something to her companion who would comment outloud about how neglectful we are. It makes me crazy. I feel the need to justify myself and my choices. But it doesn’t matter. They wouldn’t get it. And now they are talking about child psychology. I just can’t even.
