I was handed a little note at church last Sunday about the upcoming enrichment night activity today. It said that in honor of Valentine’s Day we would be chatting about relationships and making bath beads. Sounds great, I thought. Then I read the bottom of the note: Bring Your Favorite Jello Recipe.

Huh? I have a favorite Jello recipe? And what does Jello have to do with V-day?
I make Jello when my children are sick and I need them to eat something. I eat Jello when I go to potluck dinners and it is served. I usually wind up dumping all but one bite of said Jello in the trash when I find that it has been contaminated with nuts, tapioca or heaven forbid, meat. The things that some people will add to Jello and then consider food just plain gross me out.

My mother used to serve red Jello with bananas and orange Jello with mandarin oranges. Those were palatable. I have made Jello as a part of the meal once since I have been married, and only because my mother was visiting and it went well with the sloppy joe’s my dad was making. Oh and because she thought of it. Jello never even crosses my mind when I’m considering what’s for dinner.

I credit this to being born in North Dakota and not Utah. Utah folk seem to believe that Jello is the unheralded fifth food group. I found this out when I went to college and my roommates regularly took a plain Jello packet and turned it into something vile. It also struck me when I went to a church potluck and there was one main dish and twenty-five sides of Jello (yeah, glad I wasn’t in charge of that activity!. I wonder, when you put meat in Jello does that make it a main dish? But I digress.) As much as I laughed at that, I suddenly find myself wishing I’d asked for one of those weird Jello recipes.

I thought about conveniently “forgetting” that I was supposed to bring food to tonight’s activity, but that really isn’t my style. I have way to much of a guilt complex to pull that off without giving myself away. I do have Jello in the house, leftover from when my parents were visiting. There are two bananas liquefying slowly in my fruit bowl, so I may as well make something out of them instead of waiting for them to rot and breed fruit flies before I throw them away.

So, off to the kitchen I go. I learned last time that I made Jello, that I don’t have a serving style bowl to make Jello in. All of my bowls are much to big or much to small. I do have a glass batter bowl with a handle and a slightly discolored plastic lid (ok, fine it is orange, I admit it). It has measurements etched into the sides and it is the right size to carry Jello. I won’t be impressing anyone tonight with my grand sense of style and ability to serve up a delectable dish. If presentation holds any sway in the way people judge food, I’ll be lucky to be labeled quirky and functional instead of lazy and weird. I am going to show up to church tonight carrying a small batter bowl with red Jello and bananas in it. This is the ultimate in church potluck “I just don’t give a damn” behavior.

I decide to keep that attitude for tonight and make a mental note to buy a serving size bowl next time I go to a Pampered Chef party. Oh yeah, and get a favorite Jello reci