Last week’s heat, besides making me itchy, grumpy and anxious about my veggies charbroiling on the vine, had me thinking about a classic potluck dish called ambrosia. I made a beeline for this at every single church picnic and family get-together, sometimes ignoring the desserts and going back for seconds. That’s the interesting thing about ambrosia: Is it a sweet side dish or is it a dessert? I say it’s both things, depending on whether you’re eating it with dinner or after dinner. If you’re eating it before dinner, it’s breakfast.
The ambrosia salad that I particularly remember is green and lumpy with all kinds of ingredients, not necessarily lovely to look at but delicious to eat, cold and sweet. It seemed just the ticket for your average, run-of-the-mill 115-degree day in Vancouver, which is exactly when you want to be in the kitchen making things, am I right?
It’s hard to pin down what a “classic” ambrosia is because there are so many versions. Some versions have rice, some have coconut and some have walnut or pecan bits. Some recipes include pudding mix, sour cream or heavy cream. A few have a dollop of mayo. Here’s what all the recipes have in common: mini-marshmallows, pineapple, mandarins, cherries and Cool Whip. My daughter is allergic to coconut and my husband detests most nuts, but I still believed that I could make a pretty decent stab — or spoon, as the case may be — at the idealized salad in my mind. I could even make my own bowl with coconut and nuts and huddle over it in a corner, poking people with my utensil if they got too near.
I decided to have an “ambrosia adventure” and make up my own Monikambrosia (Ambrosika?) with all the things I like. I took inspiration from several recipes, settling on a mashup that includes rice, pudding mix, Cool Whip, Greek yogurt, pineapple, mandarins, cherries and a summery twist with peaches and fresh raspberries. I did indeed mix in coconut and walnut tidbits for my portion and I like it better that way but there’s no accounting for taste. So here’s what I did, plus a couple suggestions for variations. One final note before we start: This recipe makes what is known in colloquial terms as a “boatload.” Do not make this unless you intend to share it with 20 to 300 other people, depending on portion size, and eat it up within two days before it turns into soup.