Green Stuff

The memory gets hazier every year, but I'll never quite forget the first time I tasted it. Thanksgiving Day was the occasion; we were all gathered together at my paternal grandparents' house, just like every year before or since. I remember it was cold, and that I was pretty young. How young, I can't say for sure. Old enough to feed myself, but not old enough yet to fix my own plate. My Dad walked alongside me down the buffet my Maw-Maw, great-grandmas, aunts, and mother set up in the kitchen. Daddy held the plate for me, loading up that Styrofoam trough with everything I pointed to.

Who knew so many dishes could fit inside such a small room? I remember the sight very clearly; every inch of those white marble-topped counters covered with every kind of dish associated with the holiday. Jellied cranberry sauce still in the shape of the can it came from; my Maw-Maw's silky-smooth sweet potato casserole topped with toasted mini marshmallows; turkey and cornbread dressing with Campbell's cream of chicken soup (which is better than any gravy you can make or buy, I guarantee). Then, as we rounded the corner past the congealed salads toward the dessert table, there it was: something new.

I'd never seen anything quite like it before. It looked so funny; all fluffy and green, speckled with nuts, pineapple bits, and mini marshmallows. It was right on the line between the salads and the desserts, like it didn't quite belong in either category. I remember pointing to it excitedly, and saying to Daddy, "I wanna try that green stuff!"

I would never consider myself a picky eater, even when I was little, but I remember my daddy paused and looked at me after I said it. "Are you sure?" he asked. "You might not like it." Again I insisted, so he grabbed the spoon and dolloped a small scoop onto my plate.

My grandparents' house was on the small side, and didn't have a dining room. Whenever we had a family gathering, the adults ate off foldable TV trays in the living room. Meanwhile, my sisters and cousins and I were set up in the spare bedroom down the hall, which my Maw-Maw had converted into a playroom for us. After Daddy made sure I was settled at one of the old school desks with my plate, drink, and napkin, he left me to it. And the first thing I dipped my fork into was that Green Stuff.

Let me tell you, friends, I was in heaven from the first bite. It was sweet with just a hint of tartness from the pineapple, and so fluffy you would swear you were eating a cloud. There was also a delightful crunch from the chopped up pecans sprinkled throughout it, while the mini marshmallows - which had started to dissolve in the mixture - were little pockets of surprise every time my tongue found one. If ever there was a perfect dish, this was it. I remember going back for seconds, and even thirds before my parents cut me off. It caused quite a spectacle, if memory serves, when they wouldn't let me have any more.

The person who seemed the most tickled was my Maw-Maw, who created the wonderful dish. That gathering was over twenty years ago now, but she's made it for almost every family party since. It wasn't until many, many years later that I learned what the proper name of the dish was: Watergate Salad. My family still calls it "Green Stuff" though, which I guess is my fault. Not that anyone seems to mind.

My Maw-Maw is still with us at the time I'm writing this, a vision of beauty at eighty-eight years young and still very much active in the kitchen. It took years of begging for her to finally part with her recipe, and - for those curious - here it is:

Maw-Maw's "Green Stuff", AKA Watergate Salad

1 8 oz. container of Cool Whip, thawed

1 can crushed pineapple in juice

1 small package Jell-O pistachio pudding mix

1 cup pecans, toasted and chopped into small pieces

Half a bag of mini marshmallows

Start by taking the Cool Whip out of the freezer, and let it sit on the counter until it's soft enough to scoop. Empty it into a large mixing bowl, and sprinkle the pudding mix over it. Fold gently to combine until there's no more dry spots, but "don't beat it up too much," as my Maw-Maw would say. Otherwise, it won't stay as fluffy, and fluffy is what you want. Next, add the pineapple and all of its juice, folding until the entire mixture is soft and smooth. Last, fold in the pecans and mini-marshmallows together. Once it's all mixed, cover the bowl with plastic wrap or a lid if it has one, and let it chill in the refrigerator overnight. You could serve it right away, but it's better if you let it sit.

***

I know; deceptively easy, isn't it? Almost as easy to make as it is to eat. I've seen other recipes for Watergate Salad floating around, the first of which that comes to mind is from B. Dylan Hollis' Tik-Tok video of the same name. Most of those recipes aren't exactly like my Maw-Maw's, though, calling for fresh whipped cream, maraschino cherries, or a different kind of nut like walnuts or cashews. Some don't even have nuts at all, which seems like a cardinal sin. I realize my Maw-Maw didn't invent the dish - as it was apparently made for the hotel it's named after all the way back in the early 1900's, and re-vamped by the Kraft food company when instant pistachio pudding mix was invented in the 1970's - but I do believe she's perfected it.

Although my Maw-Maw's blessed me with her recipe for Green Stuff, and I've made it many times by now, it just doesn't compare to hers. And, realistically speaking, it probably never will. I guess it's true what they say: grandmothers are magic. I know mine is, for sure.