Frozen Fruit Cups

Easter. I drove Lourdes to the Easter Vigil on Saturday — which goes from nine PM to past midnight. She does the whole thing. I do most of it. Easter Sunday lunch — pancit, lumpia, pork sinigang, an Easter ham with pineapple. The American holiday food on the Filipino table. The fusion is the family.

Lourdes is 75. She is slower. She still cooks. She still tells me to find a husband even though I have one. Joseph and Suki sent photos of the kids this week.

I made pancit Sunday. The long-life noodle. The Filipino default. The dish you make when you do not know what to make.

The blog post this week was about kitchen rituals at Anchorage latitudes. It got six hundred comments.

I read for forty minutes before sleep. The reading was the small surrender. The surrender was the rest.

I made tea late at night. The tea was the small comfort. The comfort was the marker.

I read a chapter of a novel before bed each night this week. The novel was about a Filipina nurse in California. The novel was good. The novel was, in some way, my own life adjacent.

I took a walk on the coastal trail Saturday. The light was good. The body was tired but moving.

I sat on the balcony in the cold for ten minutes Sunday night with a cup of broth in my hands. The cold was the cold. The broth was the broth. The body held both.

I checked email at the kitchen table while the rice cooked. There were one hundred and twenty unread messages. I closed the laptop. The unread can wait.

The Filipino Community newsletter announced a fundraiser for typhoon relief in Samar. I committed to making three hundred lumpia. The number is the number. The number has always been the number. Three hundred is what I make. The math has stopped surprising me.

Lourdes called me twice this week. The first call was about a church event. The second was about a recipe variation she had remembered from her childhood. The remembering was the gift.

The break room had cake Tuesday. Someone's birthday. We ate the cake. We did not ask whose birthday. The cake was the cake.

I made coffee at six AM. The coffee was the start. The start was always the same.

The therapy session this month was about pacing. Dr. Reeves said, "Grace. The pacing is the love for the future self." I am working on the pacing. The pacing is harder than the loving.

Auntie Norma called Sunday to ask if I had a recipe for a particular merienda from Iloilo. I did not. I said I would ask Lourdes. I asked Lourdes. Lourdes had it. The chain.

I drove the Glenn Highway out to Eklutna on Saturday. The mountains were the mountains. The lake was the lake. The body needed the open road. The open road did its work.

A blog reader sent me a photograph of her grandmother's wooden mortar and pestle, used since 1962. The photograph was holy. I wrote her back. The writing back is the work.

I taught a Saturday morning Kain Na class on basic adobo proportions for new cooks. Eleven people in the kitchen. Half of them had never cooked Filipino food before. By eleven AM the kitchen smelled the way it should smell. By noon they were all eating. The eating was the lesson landing.

Angela texted me a photo of the kids. I texted back a heart. The exchange took thirty seconds. The thirty seconds was the keeping.

The Easter table this year was everything it always is — pancit for long life, lumpia for the fundraiser practice, sinigang because Lourdes wanted it, and the ham with pineapple because that is the American holiday showing up at the Filipino table and being welcomed anyway. What I did not plan on was dessert. But after the dishes were cleared and Lourdes was settled in her chair and the afternoon light was doing what April light does in Anchorage, I pulled these frozen fruit cups from the freezer — something I’d made two days before without thinking much about it — and they were exactly right: cold, a little sweet, and requiring nothing from anyone. The table had already done its heavy work. These just let us sit.

Prep Time: 15 minutes | Cook Time: 0 minutes | Total Time: 4 hours 15 minutes (including freeze time) | Servings: 12

Ingredients

1 can (20 oz) crushed pineapple, undrained
1 can (15 oz) mandarin oranges, drained and roughly chopped
1 cup fresh or frozen strawberries, sliced
1 cup seedless green grapes, halved
2 ripe bananas, sliced
1/2 cup maraschino cherries, halved (optional)
1 can (14 oz) sweetened condensed milk
2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
12 paper or silicone muffin cup liners

Instructions

Prepare the fruit. In a large mixing bowl, combine the crushed pineapple with its juice, mandarin oranges, strawberries, grapes, bananas, and cherries if using. Stir gently to distribute evenly.
Add the base. Pour the sweetened condensed milk and lemon juice over the fruit mixture. Stir until everything is well coated. The lemon juice keeps the bananas from browning and brightens the whole mixture.
Fill the cups. Line a standard 12-cup muffin tin with paper or silicone liners. Spoon the fruit mixture evenly into each cup, filling to just below the rim. Tap the tin gently on the counter to settle any air pockets.
Freeze. Cover the muffin tin loosely with plastic wrap and freeze for at least 4 hours, or overnight. The cups should be fully solid before serving.
Serve. Remove the cups from the freezer 5 to 8 minutes before serving to soften slightly. Peel away the liners and serve on a small plate or in a bowl. They hold their shape well and can be made up to two weeks ahead and stored in a zip-top freezer bag.

Nutrition (per serving)

Frozen Fruit Cups — The Sweet Ending to an Easter Table That Held Everything