Hawaiian Fruit Salad -- The Sweetness That Stays When Everything Else Changes

The Damiano Center on Thursday: wild rice soup, fifty gallons, the same recipe I have been making for twenty-some years now. The constancy is the point. People come into the basement of that building hungry and uncertain and what they find is a fifty-gallon pot of wild rice soup that has been there every Thursday of every year, and they find Linda Johansson, who has been there too, and the constancy is the message: you can come back. You can come back. You can come back. Lena (Anna's youngest, college freshman) is in college now. She calls me sometimes. The calls are about boys, mostly. I listen. I do not give advice. I am eighteen-year-old's grandmother. My credibility on boys is suspect at best. I tell her the kinds of things a grandmother is supposed to tell her: be careful, be brave, trust your gut, do not date the one who reminds you of someone you do not like. She thinks I am wise. I am, in fact, just old. The two get confused sometimes in the right direction. Jakob (Anna's middle, recently graduated) has a job. He hates the job. He is figuring it out. He called me Tuesday for advice. I told him: that is what your twenties are for. The first job is supposed to be unsatisfying. The first job teaches you what you do not want. He said, "Grandma, that is not super helpful." I said, "It is the truth. Helpful is not always the same as comforting." He laughed. He hung up. He kept the job for now. He will figure it out. I cooked Watermelon salad this week. Watermelon, feta, mint, a squeeze of lime. The salad of August — cooling, salty, sweet, sharp. Damiano Center, Thursday. New volunteer this week — a young woman named Sara, just out of college, looking lost and brave. I showed her how to ladle. She caught on quickly. She asked me how long I had been doing this. I said: "Long enough that I do not count." She laughed. She will be back. The good ones come back. Paul's chair is at the head of the table. His glasses are on the shelf. The arrangement is permanent. The arrangement is the love. The arrangement has been remarked on, gently, by various people over the years — Anna, mostly, and well-meaning friends. The arrangement persists. I do not require justification for it. The chair is the chair. It is enough. Paul is not here. Mamma is not here. Pappa is not here. Erik is not here. They are all here in the kitchen, in the smell, in the taste, in the wooden spoon and the bread pans and the marble slab. The dead are not where the body went. The dead are in the kitchen. I have started, in the last few years, to think about what I will leave behind. Not in a morbid way. In a practical way. The recipes are written down. The notebook is on the counter. The kitchen is in good order. The house is in Anna's name (we did the legal work in 2032; the kids agreed; it was the practical thing). The grandchildren and great-grandchildren each have a few small specific things — a wooden spoon, a bread pan, a particular cast iron skillet — that I have already labeled with their names on small pieces of masking tape. Nobody knows about the masking tape labels. They will find them when they find them. It is enough.

The watermelon I mentioned — I didn’t stop there. August has a way of pulling you toward anything cool and bright, and I had fruit on the counter that needed using. I put together a Hawaiian Fruit Salad that same afternoon: generous, unhurried, the kind of thing you make when you want to feed people without making a project of it. Paul would have eaten two bowls and called it supper. Some recipes are just fundamentally good-natured, and this is one of them.

Hawaiian Fruit Salad

Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 0 min | Total Time: 15 min | Servings: 8

Ingredients

• 2 cups fresh pineapple chunks
• 2 cups watermelon, cubed and seeded
• 1 cup mandarin orange segments (fresh or canned, drained)
• 1 cup green grapes, halved
• 1 cup strawberries, hulled and sliced
• 1 banana, sliced
• 1/2 cup shredded sweetened coconut
• 1/4 cup maraschino cherries, drained
• 1 cup vanilla yogurt or whipped topping (optional, for dressing)
• 1 tablespoon honey (optional)
• 1 tablespoon lime juice

Instructions

1. Prep the fruit. Cut pineapple, watermelon, and strawberries into bite-sized pieces. Halve the grapes. Slice the banana just before serving to prevent browning.
2. Combine. In a large serving bowl, gently toss together the pineapple, watermelon, mandarin oranges, grapes, and strawberries.
3. Add coconut and cherries. Scatter the shredded coconut and maraschino cherries over the fruit and fold in lightly.
4. Dress the salad. Drizzle with lime juice and honey if using. If you prefer a creamier salad, fold in the vanilla yogurt or whipped topping until everything is just coated.
5. Add banana last. Stir in the banana slices right before serving so they stay bright and firm.
6. Serve. Serve immediately, or refrigerate for up to one hour. Best eaten the day it’s made.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 130 | Protein: 2g | Fat: 3g | Carbs: 27g | Fiber: 2g | Sodium: 25mg