The recipe lives on an index card written in a scribble unmistakably my grandmother’s. The same cursive that signed off every greeting card and letter originating from her home.

Some foods define events. Thanksgiving attains memory perfection with a side of Grandma’s cranberry salad. 

Dissolve 1 large box of raspberry jello in 1 cup of boiling water. Let it cool some.

Into a food “chopper” put 1 pound of fresh cranberries, 1 small can of pineapple, 1 peeled orange without seeds, 1 cup of pecans, 1/2 cup of sugar, and 1/2 cup of those baby marshmallows that make you feel like they’re not fattening because they’re so tiny. Until you eat a cup of them. 

Whir it all around until everything’s in little bits. 

Then mix the bits and the jello together and smash the marriage into the right size dish until it’s all level and about 2” or so deep.

Refrigerate until set. Cut into squares if you like geometry. Or let people just scoop with a spoon if order is not your thing.

Who knows why Grandma’s cranberry salad owns Thanksgiving real estate in my heart. 

Possibly because she owns a condo there herself. Possibly because as long as she lived every Thanksgiving included her and her cranberry special.

Definitely because the Thanksgiving ingredient that makes every one of my days a mini-thanksgiving – Jesus – is due in large part to Grandma’s giving. 

She knew Jesus. Jesus knew her. She gave Him away all the time.

If you don’t have a great cranberry salad recipe, enjoy Grandma’s. It’s the best.