A Grown-Up Fruit Cocktail

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Were you a fruit cocktail kid? Oh boy, I definitely was. I loved all manner of canned fruit (peaches, mandarin oranges, pineapple, and pears in particular). But fruit cocktail, which we sometimes simply called a “fruit cup,” felt special. Slippery morsels of mixed fruit doused in fruit juice (my health-conscious mom preferred this option over the fruit cocktails packed in sugar syrup), and tossed with nibble-sized pieces of maraschino cherry? My spoon is at the ready.

Like baby carrots, fruit cocktail was created by the American food industry as a way to salvage bruised fresh produce. Fruit farmers and canning manufacturers worked together to take otherwise unsalable fruit, chop it up small and repackage it as something desirable and shelf-stable. (Read more about fruit cocktail’s history here.)

There’s nothing particularly Jewish about fruit cocktail’s provenance, but it feels spiritually Jewish to me. Or at least Jewish-adjacent—bubbe and zayde-coded, for sure. Fruit cocktail would be right at home on a Borscht Belt hotel menu next to the slumpy fruit compotes, grapefruit halves, and sliced melon. Serve it alongside a scoop of cottage cheese or some thick sour cream, and you’ve got yourself Ashkenazi ambrosia.

There’s nothing particularly Jewish about fruit cocktail’s provenance, but it feels spiritually Jewish to me. Or at least Jewish-adjacent.

I’m 44 now, and I still love a good fruit cocktail. But I admit that the canned versions, which mute the fruits’ flavor and dull their vibrant textures, are perhaps better suited for a younger palate. These days, when summer fruits begin to show up at the market (because grocery store peaches in winter taste like absolutely nothing), I chop them up small, cover them with lemonade and orange blossom water for a floral flavor boost, and enjoy my fruit cup like a dang grown up. (Kids can certainly enjoy one too.) My version is far less syrupy than the canned version, and allows the fruit’s natural sweetness to shine.

According to USDA standards, canned fruit cocktails must include a combination of peaches, pears, pineapple, grapes, and cherries. But this week’s recipe for A Grown-Up Fruit Cocktail strays from the official recipe. Because when you’re a grown up, sometimes you get to break the rules.

There’s a Jewish concept called Torah lishmah that essentially translates to “Torah for its own sake.” In other words, there is value in the act of studying as much in whatever potential outcome or lesson that studying may inspire. Nice, right? And this same concept 100% also applies to writing, as far as I’m concerned.

I’ve been talking a lot lately about the importance of writing in our era of content creators and AI slop—not just the writing (noun) that emerges from one’s efforts, but the act of writing (verb) itself. Writing, especially when done just its own sake, awakens our brains. It shakes us out of our stupor. It offers a chance to focus. It offers a chance to play. If we produce something great, great! If not, the benefits of doing the writing are still significant.

Last week I had the chance to witness meaningful “writing lishmah” in action at a food writing seminar I led. So this week, I thought I’d bring the same opportunity to this newsletter.

Wanna play? Here’s how: Grab paper and a pen/pencil. Pick one of the prompts below. Set a timer for 3 minutes and write. Don’t worry about what you’re writing, your grammar, spelling, or anything technical. Just write whatever comes to your brain, stream-of-consciousness style until the timer goes off. Repeat with the other two prompts, if you’d like. Take another moment to read and reflect on what you wrote, if you’d like, and underline anything that feels meaningful. Or simply move on with your day. That’s it!

Prompt 1: Describe a moment when you ate something that completely surprised you, whether with delight, disgust, curiosity, or confusion.

Prompt 2: Describe a moment when you felt lonely during a meal/white eating.

Prompt 3: Describe a moment when food brought you closer together with others.

Should we do more of these? I’m thinking of doing a monthly-ish food writing prompt series for paid subscribers. Sometimes the prompts will be Jewish food related, other times they will be more broad. They will never be mandatory, but they will be there for you if you’re in the mood. If there’s interest, we could even find a way to share our writing with one another. Let me know if you’d be into more “writing lishmah” going forward.

Hey Barnes & Noble members: Through this Friday (6/26), you can get 25% off all book pre-orders, including The Dessert Table: 100 Joyful Jewish Sweets. Order now from Barnes & Noble and enter the code PREORDER25 at check out to be the first to get your copy this fall.

If you haven’t ordered a copy for yourself yet, now is the perfect time. And if you are someone who likes to plan ahead, order a few copies so you’re stocked up for gifts. Thank you and happy baking!

25% off The Dessert Table

Summer is summering. Beat the heat with these cooling, fruit-forward dishes that make the most of warm-weather produce.

Peach and Plum Kuchen Toast Like plum cake, but your morning toast!

Eastern European Fruit Punch (Kompot) So refreshing!

Grilled Halloumi, Peach, and Watermelon Skewers Smoky, sweet, and juicy!

Choose Your Own Adventure Watermelon Salad Adventurous watermelon? Yes please!

Use the best quality, ripe summer fruit you can get your hands on for this dish. It makes all the difference. Make sure to cut the fruit into small, uniform pieces so they scoop up easily with a spoon and you get a little taste of everything in each bite.

Serves 4 (but easily scales up)

2 ripe peaches (or plum or nectarine), pitted and finely chopped

1 medium sweet apple, peeled if desired, and finely chopped

1 cup green grapes, halved (or quartered if large) *this would be a fun place to use Cotton Candy grapes, if you are a fan of them

1 cup fresh strawberries, finely chopped

1/2 cup sweet cherries, pitted and halved

Lemonade, for covering (use one you really like the flavor of)

A tiny splash of orange blossom water, optional, but recommended

Honey, optional

1. Combine the peaches, apple, grapes, strawberries, and cherries in a glass bowl. Pour in just enough lemonade to barely cover and add the splash of orange blossom water, if using.

2. Gently stir, then cover the bowl, and refrigerate for at least 2 hours to allow the flavors to meld. Serve chilled in small bowls or coupe glasses. If you prefer a sweeter fruit cocktail, drizzle about a teaspoon of honey over the fruit just before serving. Store leftovers, covered, in the fridge for up to 3 days.