When Good Fluff Goes Bad

Our friend Frances first introduced us to "Green Fluff." It's actually the Watergate Salad from that yellow Calling All Cooks cookbook, renamed by Frances's youngest son in honor of the dish's mint-green hue and Cool Whip fluffiness. It quickly became a most-requested favorite at all our get-togethers. And then Frances threw us a curveball and made a strawberry version, which was also delicious—so much so that my mother flagged the recipe. After lunch last Sunday, the men took their usual posts in the living room, while Mama and I stayed in the dining room to visit with my cousin, Vivian Ann. Suddenly, my mother gasped and said, "I forgot to serve the Fluff!" Vivian Ann assured her that we still had coffee in the coffee pot and were, therefore, fully prepared to take on another dessert. That's when Mama brought out the lovely dish you see here. Something looked amiss. I took a bite. Something tasted amiss, but still I didn't say anything—until I saw the look on Vivian Ann's face when she took a bite. It was a look that said, "This is not horrible, but it's not wonderful either, so I'll just have to get through it somehow." In the spirit of hospitality, I had to come forward. "Mama," I said, "I think there's a problem with the Fluff.""What are you talking about?" she said. "Well," I said, "it's sort of . . . grainy." "I made it right by Frances's recipe," she said. I took another bite. "I don't think so," I said. Mama took a bite. She frowned. She took another bite. Then she sprang from the table and went to retrieve her recipe box. Back in the dining room, with recipe in hand, she presented her defense: "See, it says right here, one package of . . . oh." I pressed for details. "I guess I thought it said gelatin . . . instead of pudding. I think I might've made an accidental substitution." And so, we can now add to the storied history of Fluff my mother's famous Grainy Pink Fluff. Lessons learned from Fluff? (1) Disaster-prone cooks like me can take heart in knowing that even a pro like Mama can have a mishap, and (2) anything tastes just fine if you serve it with love. And really strong coffee.

Comments

[Lynn]

My mom once served baked beans she made with butterscotch pudding - you ask why, she was out of brown sugar and needed to substitute something and that made sense to her. Of course, she waited until the end of the meal when we had all eaten the beans to tell us what she had done! Big family joke now for years with mom.

[Valerie]

Too funny! I told Mother, as I teased her about the Fluff, that I cooked a big family dinner one time, and after it was all on the table and we were about to eat, I opened the microwave for some reason or another and found about a half-cup of melted butter in there. I had no idea what I was supposed to have added that to . . .:)

[Stacey]

Dang, this was my one chance at literary immortality and all I got was, "Frances' youngest son".

[Valerie]

Since you refuse to partake of the fluff, I felt it only appropriate to keep you anonymous:) Have some fluff, and we'll talk about making you famous!!