Did you remember to celebrate Dave’s birthday last month? If so, I hope y’all had a big, delicious slab of cake in his honor.
Because over here, we didn’t get no cake.
Dave’s birthday dinner would be a homemade one, prepared lovingly by his incompetent wife, who really only knows how to make McDonald’s. I promised him ziti and rolls. What about dessert? We all know he hates cake, so . . . pie? Cookies? Ice cream? Perhaps a trifle?
No. Nothing. No dessert for the birthday boy.
OK, then the rest of us can have cake!
No. Nothing. No dessert for anyone. That was Dave’s most fervent birthday wish. That NO ONE have any dessert.
But he did want something more than just the ziti and rolls. He suggested ambrosia salad—you know, that gooey concoction of fruit cocktail and marshmallows.
This was just twisting the knife. Dave may hate cake, but I hate fruit even more. Still, I had promised to make whatever he wanted.
The inclusion of fruit was unavoidable, but many of the recipes I found online called for disgusting ingredients like sour cream and coconut. Not gonna happen. My version? Cool Whip, mini marshmallows, fruit cocktail, grapes, and strawberries.
Dave loved it. “It tastes like candy!” he proclaimed. And it was dessert-y enough to satisfy the sweet tooths (?) of the rest of us. Especially those of us who picked out the gross fruit.
I was so pleased with my efforts that I made it again. Except I didn’t quite have all the ingredients to replicate the original version.
Yes, I could have gone out and bought some fruit, but . . .
Eating a big bowl of Cool Whip and marshmallows may seem wrong to YOU, but remember.
I didn’t get any cake.
Fruit salad came from . . . oh, wait! I actually used one of my own photos.