← Back to Blog

Creamy Fruit Mold — The Kind of Thing Ma Just Has Ready

Wollaston Beach Saturday. I packed sandwiches, sunscreen, two beach towels, one umbrella that I cannot erect correctly, three buckets, a bag of chips, water bottles. We got there at 10.

Liam ran straight at the water. Nora held my hand and walked up to the line of wet sand slow, like she was approaching a deer. Then she let go of my hand and screamed happily and ran into a wave. It was still June-cold water but they did not care.

I sat on the towel and watched them for four hours. I read twenty pages of a novel. I ate a sandwich. I reapplied sunscreen twice on Nora (she burns fast, Sean's skin, fair and freckled) and once on Liam (my skin, he tans). I did not look at my phone.

A seagull stole a triangle of sandwich from Liam when he was not looking. He laughed himself sideways. Nora wanted to share with the seagulls after that and I had to explain no, that is how they get ambitious.

Erin (new babysitter) was great Monday-Thursday. The kids love her. She plays Uno. She lets them eat outside. She even read the brief I wrote her on Nora's fears (loud motorcycles, thunder) and she is gentle about it. Worth every penny.

Clinic week was ordinary. A well-child, a bronchitis, a sprained ankle, a medication reconciliation.

Tuesday group. Bernadette asked what we had done this week that felt like living not surviving. I said Wollaston Saturday, we went Saturday — wait, I had not yet gone Saturday when I said this, but I had planned it, and she said good, go, the planning is also living.

Saturday pancakes before the beach. Burned the first one. Nora wanted beach pancakes (with sand on them). I said no.

Sunday dinner at Southie. Ma made cucumber salad with dill and white vinegar and a little sugar. Ma's summer salad. She had too many cucumbers from the small garden she keeps.

Food of the week: Ma's cucumber salad. Sliced thin, salted, drained, then vinegar, sugar, dill, onion rings. Cold from the fridge at 3 PM on a hot day.

Ma’s cucumber salad reminded me that the best summer food is always cold from the fridge and made by someone who wasn’t trying too hard — just someone who had too many cucumbers, or too much fruit, and knew what to do with it. This creamy fruit mold is that same kind of thing: you put it together the night before, you pull it out when it’s hot, and everyone acts like you did something impressive when really you just planned ahead, which Bernadette would say counts as living too.

Creamy Fruit Mold

Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 0 min (chill 4–6 hours) | Total Time: ~4 hours 15 min | Servings: 8

Ingredients

  • 1 package (3 oz) lemon or lime gelatin
  • 1 cup boiling water
  • 1 package (8 oz) cream cheese, softened
  • 1/2 cup mayonnaise
  • 1/2 cup cold water
  • 1 can (15 oz) fruit cocktail, drained (reserve 1/4 cup juice)
  • 1/2 cup seedless grapes, halved
  • 1/2 cup crushed pineapple, drained
  • 1/4 cup maraschino cherries, halved
  • 1/2 cup miniature marshmallows
  • 1/4 teaspoon salt

Instructions

  1. Dissolve the gelatin. In a large mixing bowl, pour boiling water over the gelatin and stir for about 2 minutes until completely dissolved. Let cool for 5 minutes.
  2. Blend the creamy base. Add the softened cream cheese and mayonnaise to the warm gelatin. Beat with a hand mixer or whisk until smooth and no lumps remain.
  3. Add the liquids. Stir in the cold water and the 1/4 cup reserved fruit juice. Mix well. Refrigerate for 20–30 minutes until the mixture is slightly thickened but not set.
  4. Fold in the fruit. Gently fold in the drained fruit cocktail, grapes, pineapple, cherries, and marshmallows. Add the salt and stir to combine.
  5. Pour and chill. Pour the mixture into a lightly greased 6-cup mold or a 9x9 inch dish. Cover and refrigerate for at least 4–6 hours, or overnight, until fully set.
  6. Unmold and serve. To unmold, briefly set the bottom of the mold in warm water for 10–15 seconds, then invert onto a serving plate. Slice and serve cold.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 220 | Protein: 3g | Fat: 13g | Carbs: 24g | Fiber: 1g | Sodium: 210mg

Kate Donovan
About the cook who shared this
Kate Donovan
Week 432 of Kate’s 30-year story · Boston, Massachusetts
Kate is a thirty-five-year-old nurse practitioner in Boston and a widowed mother of two whose husband Sean died of brain cancer at thirty-three. She makes Irish soda bread and beef stew and shepherd's pie because the recipes are all she has left of a man who was supposed to grow old with her. She writes about cooking through grief and finding out you can still feed your children on the worst day of your life.

How Would You Spin It?

Put your own twist on this recipe — what would you add, remove, or swap?