Sunday, 31 May 2020

Chicken Mousse

Well, we made it. The final recipe of my Caker Cooking 2020 revival. And what a revival it’s been! We’d laid a few eggs, munched on some wieners and chowed down on damp muffins. It’s been a lot of work – and a lot of saturated fat. But it’s all been worth it. Sorta.

I promised I’d save the worst caker recipe for last and, as the Eurythmics asked, “Would I lie to you?” Most of us know there was a dark chapter in the ‘60s and ‘70s when people thought mixing Jell-O with bad things was tasty. Like olives. Or salmon. Or tomatoes. I don’t know if people were downing too much Contact C or inhaling Aqua Nehair spray fumes, but clearly, something went wrong. Very wrong. 

This week, I give you the jiggly horror that is Chicken Mousse, taken from 1963’s Joys of Jell-O. A warning: there is very little joy here. Only misery. This recipe comes from the bowels of hell. 

Check out these ingredients. It reads like Jason Voorhee’s grocery list: 

1 package Lemon Jell-O
½ tsp salt
1 ¾ cups boiling chicken broth
Dash of cayenne
2 tbsp vinegar
1/3 cup whipping cream
1/3 cup mayonnaise
1 cup diced cooked chicken
1 cup finely diced celery
1 tbsp chopped pimento

Dissolve Jell-O and salt in boiling broth. Add cayenne and vinegar. Chill until very thick. Whip the cream, then fold cream and mayonnaise into gelatin, blending well. Fold in remaining ingredients. Pour into 1-quart mold or individual molds. Chill until firm. Makes 4 servings.

Just look at this picture! Have you ever seen more dissimilar things standing next to one another? I considered submitting it to Awkward Family Photos.

I’ve never been more disappointed to see whipped cream in my life. It even looks like one of those hurricane radar images on the news. Gird your loins. There’s a Category 7 caker catastrophe headed this way LOL!

Everyone had an aunt who served these unholy Jell-O salads at family functions. Now that I think about it, it might have been a clever ploy to ensure no family ever came to visit you again. Looks like Great Aunt Millicent was more strategic than I thought.

I tossed out all my old Jell-O molds when I wrapped up this blog back in 2014. And given that the ol’ Val Vill is currently closed, I had to go with the best thing I could find – mini loaf pans. Granted, they’re not as pretty as a mold. Then again, I’m making Chicken Mousse, so…

The problem was that the portions ended up looking like bricks. So I’ve renamed this recipe The Devil’s Bricks. I think it’s more appropriate. 

But how did Chicken Mousse actually taste? Well, you might be surprised to hear but…not bad! The saltiness of the broth was the perfect marriage to the citrusy sweetness of the Jell-O and the chicken added – oh, who am I kidding? It was HORRIBLE!!! I literally shuddered every time I took a bite. And if you know anything about me – and this blog – that says a lot.

The main issue is that there’s just too much going on. You get the sweet Jell-O, then the tang of the mayo, then the creaminess of the whipped cream. And then there’s the celery…and the chicken. Every time I bit down, some new horror awaited. 

Worst of all, I think I invoked an evil spirit by making this. The other day, a bunch of black flies swarmed my kitchen window (more than usual, I mean), my Ronco Inside the Eggshell Egg Scrambler went on the fritz and every time I eat, I get fiery pains in my stomach (more than usual, I mean). Call me paranoid but look at this picture and tell me an exorcism isn’t needed!

Before I get on the phone with Father O’Connor, I want to thank you for joining me on this revival. I hope you enjoyed some of these new caker recipes. And should the world find itself in need of another casserole in the days ahead, I’m only a can opener away.

Until then, continue to stay home, stay safe and never, ever make Chicken Mousse. 


  1. What exactly is a chopped pimento? The red thing from olives, right? Are they sold on their own or do you have to pick them out? Do they come un-chopped? Never seen a pimento in the wild. Or in the grocery store.

    1. You can buy them on their own. I think. I couldn't find them though. Rather than suck them out of some olives (always a classy move), I just bought a jar of roasted red peppers and chopped them up. You could also use red liquorice. But it won't help this taste any better.

  2. It has been great to experience the highs and lows of quarantine and Caker Cooking with you! The revitalization of your blog has been the highlight of this pandemic! ❤️

    1. Thank you! And thank you for reading. Here's hoping I don't have another reason to fire up the blog again. Besides general boredom. Which is usually the root of most of my endeavours. ;)

  3. Ha! I love the name "The Devil's Bricks" (though not the actual bricks themselves). I've really enjoyed seeing what you've posted for the past couple of months! Thanks for coming back for a while.

    1. Thank you, Poppy! I appreciate you dropping by again. I can name a few people who didn't enjoy seeing what I've posted, but I'll never win over those bon vivant types anyway.

  4. You threw out your Jello molds!? *clutches pearls* Well, thank you for braving this monstrosity. I shall miss you, but this was fun.

    1. Thanks, Denise. Yes, I threw them out. Or rather, I donated them to Value Village. For some other blogger to purchase and use. It's a never-ending Jell-O mold cycle, I'm afraid.

  5. I feel like this might be OK without the lemon Jell-O. Maybe plain gelatin. Am I actually pondering making jellied chicken salad loaf? Quel horreur...

    1. I thought the same thing, too. I mean, that would be the only way to salvage this monstrosity. But no, Amy. You shouldn't ponder this. Please, step away. On second thought, run away. Run away very, very fast.

    2. My husband and I were just reminiscing about how much we used to love this blog. I'm so excited to go home and read the new quarantine entries together.

    3. It's the only highlight in the world right now.