Old-Fashioned Scalloped Pineapple

Christmas week. The full crowd descended in waves Christmas Eve — Carol arrived at three with her tin of peanut-butter cookies and her widow's sturdy directness, David and Karen at four, the various grandchildren and their partners staggered through the early evening, until the house was full by eight and the turkey was in the brine and the kitchen smelled of pies and bread and the woodstove going full. Carol stayed in the spare room as she has stayed every Christmas Eve since 2022. We did not revisit the companionship question. The question has not been asked again since the first asking three years ago. I expect it will not be asked again. Carol and I have settled into the relationship that two widowed in-laws of a particular age and Vermont temperament tend to settle into, which is mutual respect, brief annual contact, and no discussion of personal matters that could be left undiscussed.

Christmas Day proceeded the way the day proceeds in a full house — the early coffee, the unwrap, the slow morning, the assembly of the meal through the afternoon. I gave Teddy the sharpening stone, which he received with the appropriate appreciation of a young man who understood the implication of the gift, which is that I expected him to keep using the knife for many years. I gave Caitlin a small jar of last year's syrup with a note Helen had written on a recipe card for a maple cake, which Caitlin had once mentioned wanting to try. The note was Helen's handwriting, and Caitlin understood what it meant, and she hugged me without speaking, which was exactly the right response. Sam gave me a small Frost first-edition he had found at an antique store in Burlington — North of Boston, 1914 reprint, in good condition. I held the book for a long moment. I thanked him. I told him I would read it tonight. I did read it that night, after the family had gone to bed and the house was quiet and the dog was on the rug, and the book was the same book I have read for sixty years, only in this particular printing for the first time.

The turkey came out at four. The cavity had been checked twice. The giblets were out. We sat down at four-thirty. Fourteen at the table, plus Carol, plus the dog. I gave the briefest possible blessing. The food was passed. Lucy sat next to me on my left side and Anna on my right, the two granddaughters bracketing the grandfather, which had not been planned but which had happened naturally as people took their seats. I did not point it out. I did not need to. The two of them carried on a conversation across me about the various things twenty-something women carry on conversations about, and I sat between them and ate my turkey and listened, and I was, for the duration of the dinner, the happiest seventy-two-year-old man in Vermont.

There is always one dish at a table of fourteen that nobody quite explains but everybody reaches for — the one that has been there so long it no longer requires a reason. This scalloped pineapple has been that dish in our house since Helen first made it the Christmas that David was still in diapers, and it came out of the oven this year the same as it always has: golden on top, soft through the middle, sweet in the way that a Christmas side dish is permitted to be sweet. Lucy took seconds. So did Carol, without comment, which is the highest praise available from that quarter.

Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 45 minutes | Total Time: 55 minutes | Servings: 8

Ingredients

1 can (20 oz) crushed pineapple, undrained
1 cup granulated sugar
3 large eggs, beaten
1/2 cup unsalted butter, softened
3 tablespoons all-purpose flour
3 cups white sandwich bread, cut into 1-inch cubes (about 6 slices)
Pinch of salt

Instructions

Preheat. Heat oven to 350°F. Lightly grease a 2-quart baking dish with butter or nonstick spray and set aside.
Cream butter and sugar. In a large mixing bowl, beat the softened butter and granulated sugar together until pale and well combined, about 2 minutes by hand or 1 minute with a mixer.
Add eggs. Beat in the eggs one at a time until fully incorporated. The mixture will look slightly curdled — that is fine.
Add flour and salt. Stir in the flour and pinch of salt until no dry streaks remain.
Fold in pineapple and bread. Gently fold in the crushed pineapple with all its juice, then fold in the bread cubes. Stir just until the bread is evenly coated.
Bake. Pour the mixture into the prepared baking dish and spread evenly. Bake uncovered for 40 to 45 minutes, until the top is deep golden brown and the center is just set with only a slight jiggle.
Rest and serve. Allow to rest 5 to 10 minutes before serving. Serve warm alongside turkey, ham, or any holiday main.

Nutrition (per serving)

Old-Fashioned Scalloped Pineapple — The Side Dish That Has Always Belonged on a Full Table