The Philippines is a wondrous place, but for food they have some questionable offerings (among some of my favorite dishes in the world). Take this jello dessert for instance, reportedly popularized by the Goldilocks chain. It’s called ‘Cathedral Windows’ and is just a collection of various jellos bound by a creamy gelatin shell, and when it’s cut open it bears the resemblance of stained glass. As soon as I saw photos of this, I knew I had to make it for New Year’s Eve, when Suzie and her family join us for all sorts of gaudy food-stuffs. (Usually we do a fondue and something from the deep fryer.) This year it was all about the jello, and once I told Suzie what I was making she challenged me to a jello contest. I pushed back, knowing it would be way too much jello, but Suzie gets what she wants so I relented and accepted. Little did she know how heavy the gauntlet was that she had thrown down.
Jello is not something I’ve had in years. Never one for Jello shots, I’m sure I had one or two in my 20’s, but for any substantial jello sampling I’d have to go back three decades, and even then, my childhood was now one where jello was a staple. The singular and wonderful exception was the Ko Jello mold – but that had so many other ‘real’ ingredients like fruit and sour cream layers that it didn’t really feel like your standard jello – the wobbly and jiggly stuff of childhood parties and kitschy 50’s throwback scenes. It was time for a #JelloRenaissance.
From the start, I realized this would be about appearance versus actual taste and substance. The wow factor, if there would be any, would have to come from the looks of the thing, because there is just so much you can do to improve the sweet but bland taste of jello. For New Year’s Eve that was perfect.
It took about two days, because to get the layered rainbow pieces I had to make five separate batches of jello, one right after the other, then cool each layer before another could be added. It’s more time-consuming than labor intensive. In order to make the jello extra firm, so it would hold its shape when enmeshed within the creamy jello binding, I doubled the powder and gelatin for the recipe (it calls for two cups of water, so I only used one). Luckily, jello is extremely cheap and it’s not a big deal to double the packets to get the same amount of product needed. Once the five colors were cooled, and the rainbow layer project complete, it was time to make the creamy binding mix that would, ideally, hold the whole thing together. From articles I’d read online, it seemed that Knox gelatin was the brand to go with, and happy circumstance had a box of it on-hand at Fresh Market. With some evaporated milk, condensed milk and heavy cream, along with some additional sugar, this was no light dessert. Surely people have died from such a mix. Oh well, it was New Year’s Eve, and if you’re gonna go out, go out with a bang at the stroke of midnight.
I lined a bundt pan with several cut-out pieces of the layered rainbow jello, then combined cubes of all the colors with the liquid cream mix and ladled them gently into the pan. Just to be safe, and since there was an enormous amount of extra jello, I poured another smaller batch into a silicone bundt pan. From that point on it was in the hands of fate. Would it set up enough to hold its shape? Would it taste as godawfully gaudy as it looked? And would my stomach explode if I had a slice of it? Yes, yes, and no. If you like jello, you’ll probably like this, but I cannot in good conscience recommend it, so I’m not including the whole recipe. (Many variations are available online, and the only limits on your creative expression are whatever limits you impose yourself. For me it was about just getting the damn thing done in time for it to set. Suzie would be giving me a run for my jello money (about $1.19 per box) so I had to pull out all the stops.
We forgot to officially vote on whose was better, but I think I had the edge for presentation and she had the edge for taste. Perhaps we will try an aspic for the tie-breaker.
