An Ode to the Southern Salad
Anytime a Southerner speaks about eating a salad, it doesn’t necessarily mean a bowl of leafy lettuce topped with a mix of vegetables and a light vinaigrette that looks like rabbit food. You see, any good Southerner knows that a salad come in a wide variety of options. There is the classic chicken, ham, and egg (sometimes with olive) salad that all can substitute as a lovely filler between two slices of wonder bread. There’s the heavy, carb-based salads like macaroni, potato, and even cornbread salad that always seems best with a touch of bacon mixed in. And there’s the ever-evolving fruit based, gelatin salads that just so happen to make my sister-in-law gag at the thought of them.
The first salad I remember loving as a child was one my barbie-doll-esque aunt, Becky, would bring to family dinner. It was her signature dish. As the second of many wives of my uncle, I assume she was trying her best to impress her mother-in-law who could fry up a chicken like nobody’s business. Her salad of choice was a Pear Salad. It’s interesting to think there was not much cooking when it came to this salad- just arranging. She took canned, halved pears and arranged them nicely on a platter. Then, she would fill the center with a dollop of mayonnaise and shredded cheddar cheese. If she were feeling fancy that day, the pears were finished off with a maraschino cherry. As a child, I loved it. As an adult, I’d rather not touch it. Needless to say, Becky came and went, and so did the Pear Salad.
Speaking of my uncle, his signature dish for our family occasions was also a type of southern salad. However, it was a gelatin based, tomato aspic. Now, I will never understand why anyone would ever want to eat something that tastes like a virgin Bloody Mary in the form of jello, but I digress. My mother also had a copper fish mold that served as both kitchen décor and an aspic mold. Can you imagine? A fish shaped aspic? Gross. My husband apparently loves it, and to my dismay, he will use my favorite Bloody Mary mix when he gets a craving. What’s worse is that he will add things like shrimp and celery to it and call it a day. I am happy to stick to my Zing Zang only mixed with vodka and drunkenly forego the aspic.
When referring to gelatin based southern salads, it is necessary to discuss the many options that can be found at any good southern family reunion or church gathering. These vintage dishes are exactly what I craved with my second pregnancy. I’d run up to the local restaurant in Nashville called the Picnic Café and be the only person without blue hair taking out the cranberry or apricot salad on a weekly basis. Sometimes I’d enjoy both in one setting.
Two of my all time favorite salads are the ever classic ambrosia salad and coke salad. The ambrosia salad reminds me of Sunday lunches on a warm spring day at my grandmother’s home in Taylorsville, Mississippi. Its mix of whipped cream, shredded coconut, mandarin oranges, and chopped pecans are something I’ll never turn down. Besides, my granny would probably haunt me if I did. The cherry coke salad was a delicious snack I discovered during my high school years in Jackson, Mississippi. It was a staple in my friend, Kitty’s, refrigerator. Her mother was from Woodville, Mississippi, and had tons of southern recipes up her sleeve. Many weekend nights were spent devouring that coke salad while sitting on top of the kitchen counter right after our curfew. It blew my mind that there was an actual can of Coca-Cola mixed into the red, gelatinous delight.
Finally, we can’t discuss Southern salads without delving into the world of chicken salad. After many different attempts to determine my favorite kind, it has been narrowed down to two. The first choice is the chicken salad from James Food Center in Oxford, Mississippi. Many articles have been written about this understated delicacy. James Food Center can be found inside an old convenience store with just two gas pumps and right beside the local post office in typical small town Mississippi fashion. The chicken salad is packaged fresh in plastic tubs and sold with a sleeve of simple saltine crackers- nothing fancy and just as it should be when looking for a classic snack from a tiny, southern town. I’ve been known to pack it in a cooler and drive it back to Nashville on many occasion.
My second favorite is the chicken salad from Beagle Bagel Café in Madison, Mississippi. I crave it on the regular. It’s thinly sliced, toasted almonds, grapes, and garlic powder make it the perfect filler between two warm bagel slices. I swear it’s the lunch that got me through an extremely boring (and hard) summer school class of biochemistry. Knowing I could go grab a freshly made chicken salad sandwich from there after a helluva class made it all worthwhile.
So, if you’re ever in a pinch and not sure what to serve for lunch or dinner, stress no more. With the many options us Southerners give you, there is always some type of salad that can be served. And, with the shelves getting emptier and emptier in the grocery story, why not throw what you can get together and call it a salad? I’m beginning to think that’s how these old recipes started anyway.
The infamous Pear Salad. Thankfully, Southern Living has the full recipe here if needed.
Parrish Ritchie has got you covered if you’re ever in a pinch. Southern Salads galore can be found in this cookbook.
Amy at House of Nash Eats has the perfect recipe for Coke Salad. It looks and probably tastes exactly like Kitty’s. (Photo cred: House of Nash Eats)
The official fish dish we had hanging on our kitchen wall in the eighties. Every now and then, it would leave it’s designated spot to mold some type of aspic.
The perfect spot to grab a tub of chicken salad and sleeve of saltines. There’s no website for this gem, but the address can be found here. (Photo cred: Visit Oxford, MS)
Finally, I laughed out loud when I saw this coffee mug. If Southerners can make a salad out of anything, can’t we all agree that chocolate is a salad?