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Summer sweet

With a dash of salty

By Alan JohnPublished 2 years ago 3 min read
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Summer sweet
Photo by Kelly Sikkema on Unsplash

Take a deep breath in.

Now let it out.

Summer is here. Swimming pools, bonfires, outdoor sports, beach trips? Yes please-- sign me up. The sun and the temperatures may be high but so are our spirits. Burgeoning bug populations can't bring us down either; this is the season of fireworks and fourth-of-July parties, and I'm here for it. I still remember playing wiffleball at my cousin's house every 4th, almost like a cut plotline from the Sandlot. I also remember how much I hated wiffleball as a kid, and it's funny how much I'd like to take another crack at it now. Luckily for an unathletic child there was a lot more to do at family parties than swing that tiny yellow bat and hope against hope for a homer to an imaginary crowd of adoring fans.

My aunt is an unsung hero when it comes to hosting. I think the woman draws strength from it, making sure everyone in her extended family is well-fed and happy. It was nice growing up around family, because it meant there was always at least two holidays a year we'd be attending a party with some of the best food you've ever had. There was one dish in particular, the crowning jewel of the family gathering, the delight of an eleven-year-old boy, the thing that made striking out in wiffle ball again and again so worthwhile: the pretzel-jello-salad.

I'm going to say those three seemingly unconnected words again, and I just want you to picture it. Pretzel-jello-salad. What is that you may ask? A triple-layer journey through wonder and satisfaction. A dreamland of flavor and texture so fantastic that kings of ancient worlds would've thought they'd died and ascended to paradise. It is a delicacy that puts dreams of milk and honey to shame; this is the promised land.

What is pretzel-jello-salad? Why did have such a hold on the adolescent mind of a young boy? How did it drive him to unsuccessfully recreate it for Thanksgiving dinner? It's just a combination of cream cheese, pretzels, and red jello, isn't it? Maybe, but maybe I can take you on a journey. You see it there, resting amongst the deserts, inconspicuous, waiting, topped with red jello, maybe some rasberries or strawberries strewn amongst the wiggly, wobbly gelatin. Under the surface rests the wonder. You cut into it, carving a piece of perfection, and you see the layers. Beautiful cream cheese frosting nestling gently between the jello above and the crumbled pretzel crust below. It's on your plate. It's yours. You find a seat. Your fork glides downward through it, cutting off a bite for you, and it makes the journey to your waiting mouth. You chew, washed in a thousand delights and sensations, and you swallow. It was so marvelous you forgot to taste it, lost in the wash of color and splendor now descending into your stomach. You long for that first bite back. You carve out another fork full.

I could eat four pieces and be left unsatisfied. I could've-- and regularly did-- skip all other deserts; this was the crowning jewel of my summer. Even now, my inner child is counting down the days until July 4th, waiting like suburban mothers on Black Friday, knowing the pretzel-jello-salad is waiting for me. It's the color of my summer, the flavor of my childhood, and a reminder of family. It's cold to touch, with a flavor combination of sweet then salty in a barrage of textures all blended together. It's so simple, three layers stacked in a glass baking pan, but it's the simplicity that makes it good. It reminds me of being a kid, enjoying a simple meal with my family, having the time of my life. Thinking of it now reminds me of how we've all grown up, how so many of my cousins and siblings are married with kids of their own now. I remember again every frustrating game of wiffleball, capture the flag, or touch football that I didn't want to play, but that now I can laugh at. It reminds me of home, and I can't wait to go back.

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About the Creator

Alan John

I'm a Virginia based writer/musician looking to find my place in this wild wild world.

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