The women in my family, at least my maternal side, do not cook. (I am the exception and sometimes I think that my love of cooking was born out of necessity.) My mother could burn soup, turn eggs green, and make "slumgullion," which I believe is Crazyspeak for "something that tastes so awful your body will trick you into thinking you're full just so you won't have to eat it." (Note: several dictionaries define slumgullion as "a watery meat stew." That is not the slumgullion we had growing up. We had very little to eat and a house of nine, sometimes ten, to feed, so slumgullion was code for taking anything left in the fridge and/or freezer -- including condiments -- and mixing it in a large pot so that it looked like gruel to feed 10 people.) My grandmother's specialty seemed to be mac-n-cheese (yum!) and chicken nuggets. I do have to give these women some credit. My mother made excellent chocolate chip cookies about once a year and she could make a mean enchilada casserole too. Grama made excellent applesauce, rhubarb sauce, fried mushrooms, and...Green Stuff.
Grama's Green Stuff was -- is -- famous, at least in our family. No holiday is complete without it. And while some people say that it's "lime jello salad" or something along those lines, I silence all the blasphemers with a haughty glare. It. Is. Not. Jello. Salad. I hate jello and I love fruit but I am not a fan of anything that is fruity but smothered in some unknown, non-kosher gelatinous substance. Grama's Green Stuff, however, is another matter. When I got married, I asked for two things from Grama, things that only she could give: the recipe for Green Stuff, and a set of "wise guys" (more about that during the winter holiday season). I got both things. That's how I knew Grama loved me.
I know that my grandmother probably found this recipe in some 1950s magazine, just like she found her other standbys (beef stroganoff, for example -- the nostalgia of this recipe almost makes me wish I still ate beef). But she did what she always does and added a bit of a twist of her own. It's so good -- you've no idea. Go ahead. Try it.
Pour into a large stock pot:
1lb bag of mini marshmallows
2 c. milk
Heat over medium heat. Stir constantly with wooden spoon. When hot, add:
6oz package lime jello
16oz cream cheese
2 cans (15oz each) crushed pineapple (one can drained, one with liquid)
When cool, blend in:
12oz. Cool Whip
1 1/3 c. mayo (Best Foods/Hellman's)
Mix until well blended, put in dish (usually a 13"x9" and then a smaller dish for a bit of excess) and chill overnight.
As my Grama said, "Serves as many as you'd like."
I like to post creations at many different party pages -- check them out here.