Story of the Recipe
By: Moon Advincula
Dancing, cooking, and hot summer days are all things you would find at a party in my family. Specifically my dad’s side, my Filipino side. Growing up with two different cultures was never easy, yet during the summers I spent in Winnipeg, when family would come to my aunt's house with ounces and ounces of different foods, everything felt easy.
The dish that I consider a staple at these family parties was fruit salad. A simple dessert that took barely any time to make, if you made it right. It would come out of the fridge after everyone had finished eating, similar to a cake on a special occasion. The kids would only eat the coconut jelly and pineapple, thinking the papaya was somehow “too healthy”, me along with them. When I was about seven, my grandpa taught me how to make it. We were in the kitchen, gathering the bowls and ingredients, with ABBA playing on his record player. I remember getting him to tie my hair up to save me from the boiling heat, as I changed into clothes handed down from my older sister. The recipe took almost exactly five minutes to make. I remember asking him, “It’s that easy?”, to which he replied, “Yes, if you do it right”. I didn’t quite understand what he said until many years later. I always thought he was just a perfectionist, and that there truly was only “one right way” to make a fruit salad that’s practically pre-made. Although now that I'm older, and I’ve had so much time to think about my memories with him, I understand what he meant.
The easiest thing about my Winnipeg summers was that I was never alone. I was never on my own when I wanted to do something, there was always someone there to help me. This was a vast difference from my other side of the family, where you did things independently and only occasionally asked for help. What my grandpa was always trying to teach me was that everything works better when you do it together. The “right way” he would always talk about was doing it with another person, doing it with someone you love. Fruit salad was meant to be made together, it was meant to be eaten together, and it was meant to be enjoyed together. The further I get from these summers and these memories, the more and more they become blurry. The one thing I know I'll always remember is the lessons my grandpa taught me. They stick with me, and even if I can’t see him, or talk to him anymore, a part of him still lingers in what I do, how I treat others, how I treat myself, and especially how I make fruit salad.
The dish that I consider a staple at these family parties was fruit salad. A simple dessert that took barely any time to make, if you made it right. It would come out of the fridge after everyone had finished eating, similar to a cake on a special occasion. The kids would only eat the coconut jelly and pineapple, thinking the papaya was somehow “too healthy”, me along with them. When I was about seven, my grandpa taught me how to make it. We were in the kitchen, gathering the bowls and ingredients, with ABBA playing on his record player. I remember getting him to tie my hair up to save me from the boiling heat, as I changed into clothes handed down from my older sister. The recipe took almost exactly five minutes to make. I remember asking him, “It’s that easy?”, to which he replied, “Yes, if you do it right”. I didn’t quite understand what he said until many years later. I always thought he was just a perfectionist, and that there truly was only “one right way” to make a fruit salad that’s practically pre-made. Although now that I'm older, and I’ve had so much time to think about my memories with him, I understand what he meant.
The easiest thing about my Winnipeg summers was that I was never alone. I was never on my own when I wanted to do something, there was always someone there to help me. This was a vast difference from my other side of the family, where you did things independently and only occasionally asked for help. What my grandpa was always trying to teach me was that everything works better when you do it together. The “right way” he would always talk about was doing it with another person, doing it with someone you love. Fruit salad was meant to be made together, it was meant to be eaten together, and it was meant to be enjoyed together. The further I get from these summers and these memories, the more and more they become blurry. The one thing I know I'll always remember is the lessons my grandpa taught me. They stick with me, and even if I can’t see him, or talk to him anymore, a part of him still lingers in what I do, how I treat others, how I treat myself, and especially how I make fruit salad.
Ingredients
- Del Monte “FIESTA” tropical mixed fruit
- Golden Panda coconut gel in syrup (1-2, for different colours)
- Golden Panda sugar palm fruit in syrup
- Cream
- Condensed milk
- EXTRAS ;
- Corn
- Cheese
- Shredded coconut
- Maraschino cherries
Recipe
1: Put the fruit mix into a strainer to empty the liquid
2: Put both the coconut gel/jelly and the palm fruit into the fruit mix.
3: Stir.
4: Empty contents into a large bowl.
5: Pour the condensed milk and cream into the bowl.
6: Mix well with a spoon.
7: Mix in any additional toppings.
8: Refrigerate with a cover.
9: Enjoy!
2: Put both the coconut gel/jelly and the palm fruit into the fruit mix.
3: Stir.
4: Empty contents into a large bowl.
5: Pour the condensed milk and cream into the bowl.
6: Mix well with a spoon.
7: Mix in any additional toppings.
8: Refrigerate with a cover.
9: Enjoy!