Vanilla Yogurt Ambrosia

Fourth of July. Fourth year in our backyard. The tradition is mature now: Gary grills (though Dustin has been promoted to co-grill operator, a title Gary bestowed with the gravity of a military commission). Linda's potato salad. My baked beans. Cody's fireworks. The full crew: twenty-plus people, lawn chairs scattered across the yard, the trampoline bouncing with children (we bought a trampoline — $200 from a neighbor who was moving, and it has been the single best purchase of the house era, generating more joy per dollar than anything else we own).

Brayden lit sparklers by himself this year. No supervision needed. He's eight and competent and trustworthy with fire, which is a sentence I never expected to write about any of my children but Brayden is Brayden. Harper sat on the porch and read (the Fourth of July reading tradition continues — Harper celebrates America by reading about it, which is, if you think about it, the most American thing possible). Wyatt sat in the garden with Biscuit. Four and a half, dirt on his knees, watching the fireworks reflected in the tomato leaves. The boy finds beauty in small things. The fireworks are in the sky. Wyatt's fireworks are in the garden.

Colton, five, ran with Brayden and the sparklers. Paisley, two, threw food at anyone within range (the Moreland throwing gene is dominant — Colton threw rolls at Brayden, Paisley throws everything at everyone). Mama sat in a lawn chair with Roy, holding hands, watching the sky. Sixty years old, retired, holding hands with a man who drives a bread truck. The simplest, most beautiful sight at the party. Simpler than the fireworks. More beautiful than anything in the sky.

I always bring the baked beans, but every year someone asks me about dessert — and honestly, after a day of grilling and sparklers and chasing Paisley away from the food table, I don’t have it in me to bake anything. This ambrosia is what I reach for instead: it comes together in minutes, it travels well to the yard, and it disappears faster than anything else on the table. Something about a cool, creamy fruit salad on a July night, with Mama holding Roy’s hand in the lawn chair and the fireworks just starting — it tastes exactly right.

Prep Time: 10 min | Cook Time: 0 min | Total Time: 10 min (plus 1 hr chill) | Servings: 12

Ingredients

2 cups vanilla yogurt
1 cup sour cream
1 (20 oz) can pineapple chunks, drained
1 (15 oz) can mandarin oranges, drained
1 (10 oz) jar maraschino cherries, drained and halved
2 cups mini marshmallows
1 cup sweetened shredded coconut
1 cup seedless green grapes, halved
1/2 cup chopped pecans (optional)

Instructions

Make the dressing. In a large mixing bowl, stir together the vanilla yogurt and sour cream until smooth and fully combined.
Add the fruit. Fold in the pineapple chunks, mandarin oranges, cherries, and green grapes. Stir gently so the fruit stays intact.
Fold in the extras. Add the mini marshmallows and shredded coconut. If using pecans, fold those in now as well. Stir until everything is evenly coated with the dressing.
Chill. Cover the bowl and refrigerate for at least 1 hour before serving. This lets the marshmallows soften slightly and the flavors come together.
Serve. Give it a gentle stir before spooning into a serving dish. Garnish with a few extra cherries or a sprinkle of coconut if desired.

Nutrition (per serving)

Vanilla Yogurt Ambrosia — The Dish That Belongs at Every Backyard Fourth