Creamy Pineapple Salad

Christmas 2030. Seventh in the house. The traditions continue, unchanged and unchangeable. Tree (Douglas fir, seven feet, the annual sacrifice of $45 that I justify because the smell of pine is the smell of Christmas and you can't put that in a jar). Ham ($22.99 — I've started a running tally of ham prices in my journal, which I will publish someday as a treatise on pork inflation called "The Ham Also Rises"). Cookies (twenty-seven dozen this year — Harper managed the baking schedule with the organizational skills of a project manager). Gifts. Family. Food. Full.

The kids are getting older and the presents are changing. Brayden (ten): a skateboard, because he saw one at a friend's house and the wanting was so fierce that I broke the "practical gifts" rule. Harper (almost eight): a set of baking tools — a real piping set, palette knives, measuring cups. She opened the box and her face did the thing that Wyatt's face did when he got the tools: pure light. Two children, two tool sets, two kinds of building. Wyatt (six): a telescope. A small one, basic, $25 from Walmart. He took it to the backyard at 7 PM on Christmas night and looked at the moon and said, "It has holes." Craters. He discovered craters. My son discovered craters on Christmas night with a $25 telescope and the discovery was as real as any NASA mission because the discoverer was six and the night was cold and the moon was there, full of holes, waiting to be seen.

After the kids were in bed, Dustin and I sat on the couch and he said, "We're doing it." I said, "Doing what?" He said, "Everything. We're doing everything we said we'd do. The house. The business. The kids. The food. Everything." He said, "We're the couple from the bonfire who said 'when' instead of 'if,' and the 'when' is now. The 'when' is this." I looked at the tree and the stockings and the kitchen through the doorway and I said, "The 'when' is this." And the 'when' was enough.

Pineapple and ham have been a pair since long before I was keeping a journal of pork prices, and this Creamy Pineapple Salad is the side dish that earns its place at that table every single year — cool and sweet against the salty glaze, easy enough that Harper could help, and the kind of thing that disappears before the second round of plates. The “when” Dustin described that night on the couch? Part of what makes it feel real is a table this full, with every familiar bowl in its place.

Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 0 minutes | Total Time: 10 minutes (plus 1 hour chilling) | Servings: 8

Ingredients

1 can (20 oz) crushed pineapple, drained (reserve 2 tablespoons juice)
1 can (20 oz) pineapple tidbits, drained
1 package (3.4 oz) instant vanilla pudding mix, dry (do not prepare)
1 container (8 oz) frozen whipped topping, thawed
1 cup mini marshmallows
1/2 cup shredded sweetened coconut (optional)
1/4 cup maraschino cherries, halved, for garnish

Instructions

Drain the pineapple. Drain both cans of pineapple well, pressing gently to remove excess juice. Reserve 2 tablespoons of the juice and set aside.
Combine base ingredients. In a large mixing bowl, stir together the crushed pineapple, pineapple tidbits, and reserved pineapple juice until evenly combined.
Add pudding mix. Sprinkle the dry instant vanilla pudding mix over the pineapple mixture and stir well. The pudding mix will thicken slightly as it absorbs the juice.
Fold in whipped topping. Gently fold in the thawed whipped topping until fully incorporated and the mixture is creamy and light.
Add mix-ins. Fold in the mini marshmallows and shredded coconut if using. Stir gently to distribute evenly.
Chill. Cover the bowl and refrigerate for at least 1 hour before serving to allow the flavors to meld and the salad to firm up slightly.
Garnish and serve. Transfer to a serving dish and top with halved maraschino cherries just before serving.

Nutrition (per serving)

Creamy Pineapple Salad — The Side That Belongs Next to Every Christmas Ham