mint jello with basil cream

Did you have those foods when you were a kid- those things you loved so much but weren't really allowed to have? And did you say to yourself,

"When I'm a grownup, I'm going to eat that every single day. And no one's going to stop me!"

That's kind of how I felt about jello.

And now that I'm a grownup, how often do I eat jello?
Not often enough, I tell you.

Last month, when I was in the hospital, I ate four bowls of jello in the 24 hours I spent there. It was orange jello, which was unfortunate but passable. I never asked for it- the nurses just kept bringing these little bowls of perfectly balanced orange squares to me. It was like I had a secret message painted on my forehead- "Bring this girl some jello. She is a jello-lover, and she just doesn't get enough of the stuff!"

It seems that even as a grown up, I have to go to the hospital to eat jello. Of course I'm not going to buy that red powder in the box. I will occasionally add a box of gelatin to a bottle of juice (like Paige taught me), but I will not buy that box. I am a make-it-at home kind of woman, and I don't let my children eat things that are that color unless they are strawberries, or raspberries, or, come to think of it, beets.

I wonder what my children are dreaming of eating every day when they are grownup?


Last week, we ended up at on a dear friend's porch on a very hot and sticky afternoon. We were hot, and thirsty, and wilted. Her eyes sparkled a bit when we got there, and she ran to the fridge.
"I made lemon balm jello. with basil cream."
Lemon balm jello! Glory be!

It turns out that she had been in Brooklyn the week before, and she had had one of those Brooklyn experiences where she and her hot wilted children had been pounding the pavement when they finally found their old babysitter who is now working in a pie bakery. There was a flurry of blissfully consumed gluten-free pie, and then an invitation--"why don't you come next door for a hip rooftop garden party where everyone will be lovely and artistic and interesting?" That is exactly what they did, and what were all the lovely and artistic and interesting people eating?
Oh, yeah baby, you know it.
And as my dear friend let that jello (lemon verbena, in this case, topped with basil cream) slide down her throat with ease and refreshment, I am honored to say that somewhere in the back of her mind, she thought of me.
Like I said, I've got a secret message on my forehead.


And that is how I came to be eating lemon balm jello on a hot afternoon last week. And although sometimes a hip Brooklyn rooftop party would be nice, with the right snacks, we can bring the party right here to the country.

So yes- the Brooklynites made lemon verbena jello, which telephoned into lemonbalm jello, and I made mint. The real moral here is that the herb is up to you. Whatever sounds good or whatever you have running rampant in your back yard. Go crazy. But do the basil cream. Totally lovely. Totally artistic. Totally interesting.

Maybe I'm not all grown up yet. Maybe I can start the promised jello regimen. Maybe I can be just who I thought I'd be.

Mint Jello with Basil Cream

for the jello:
4 cups water
4 packets gelatin (you could also do a vegetarian version with agar agar)
One big bunch of mint (mine weighed about 3/4 ounce)
1/2 cup sugar

for the cream:
1/2 cup heavy cream
1 teaspoon sugar
6 leaves fresh basil, minced fine

Boil 3 cups of the water, and put the remaining cup of water into a mixing bowl. Once the water is boiling, pour it over the mint and let it infuse for 20 minutes. Strain and mix in the sugar until it dissolves. Sprinkle the gelatin over the cup of cold water and let it sit for one minute. Stir in the sweet minty water until thoroughly combined and no gelatin is visible. Pour into six bowls, containers or jars (or anything! go wild!) and refrigerate for about 3 hours, or until firm.
Just before serving, make the cream. Mix the sugar, minced basil and cream. Whisk by hand until just barely thickened. Pour over the jello, and serve cold.

jello

The other night, we had a party. A little one. The girls stayed up until eleven, and went to sleep happy. For them, I think the night was a little magical. I had tucked them into bed with their friend who had come with her mother to the party at 9:30, but at 11:00, they were still up, cuddled together, Sadie reading to the younger girls. When I told them what time it was, they said, "eleven?" with a disbelief in their tired scruffy voices that seemed to say that they were utterly surprised that there was an eleven at night at all. After all, it was nothing they had ever experienced before.
When I was little, I stayed up late a lot. I'm sure that I had a reasonable bedtime, but as the only child of a single young working mom, I often tagged along to parties or wherever else my mother might be going. When she sang in little bars I would be there in the corner, munching my complimentary nachos, and I even have memories of loitering in the restaurant where she used to waitress. Even for me then, I remember the glittery quality of late night, the way people sounded different, smelled different. I remember knowing that I was awake when other people were asleep, and simultaneously loving it and craving my bed.
When it comes to taking my girls out into the dark world after 7:00, I definitely am more conservative than my mother was. They need their sleep, and I protect it like a mother bear.
But a few nights here and there, tromping through a grown up party with a little pack of kids, these are pleasures that I wouldn't keep from them for anything. I am a lover of parties, but as special as these nights are for me, I know that their memories of the night will last much longer than mine. These are the moments when they impress me with their self sufficiency. They are determined to show me that they are up for the evening, and most of the time, they really do come through.

I have been feeling grateful to them all weekend. It is okay when they are not up for it, but when they are, I feel like I can be a whole person and a mother at once, and this is a good thing.
Having started off on a good foot this weekend, we have been trading little acknowledgments of gratitude since then. Sadie made breakfast yesterday, and then after reading that you should bring the people you love breakfast in bed on Valentines Day, she and Rosie woke up Joey and I with toast and applesauce this morning. All weekend there have been more and more valentines arriving on the fridge, and in our pockets. And for my part, I have been putting every thing I can into my heart cake pan, because I know that it makes most food taste a lot better.


My lovely friend Paige wrote about jello this week, and that was a valentine in itself. What Paige didn't know was that I love jello above most things, and it is a treat in which I don't tend to indulge. The flavor is not of interest to me, red, green, purple; I don't care, as long as the texture is right. I can't remember the last time I have had the pleasure of a good bite of jello sliding down my throat, and it seems that I have also been keeping it from my children. As the jello set in the refrigerator, the girls ran around the kitchen chanting jello songs, and when Sadie paused to ask Rosie, "Do you even know what jello is?", Rosie answered, "Not exactly." It was time, I think. It was certainly time.
Now my girls have had the joy of jello, and at least for now they don't know that most jello is not made from juice. I'd like to think that when they have the other stuff, they'll say, "My mom's jello is so much better than this!" And it will have been, especially when it was shaped like a heart. Late glittery nights and a jello heart once in a while... these are the simple magical acts I can handle.



Jello
thanks to Paige at The Sister Project

4 cups juice
2 envelopes Knox Gelatine
optional: 2 cups fresh, frozen or canned fruit (berries are great here, or peaches)

Bring 3 cups of the juice just to a boil. In a separate bowl or measuring cup, pour the last cup of juice. Sprinkle the gelatine over it. Let sit for five minutes. Pour the hot juice over the juice/ gelatine mixture and stir until gelatine is completely dissolved, 3-5 minutes. Spread the fruit, if using, along the bottom of the individual cups or larger (heart!) mold. Pour the hot mixture over the fruit. Refrigerate until set, 6-12 hours.