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Created by Chef Dean
The original American fruit salad, a billowing cloud of sweetened coconut, tender citrus, and tiny marshmallows folded into whipped cream so light it barely holds together. Your grandmother made this for a reason.
Ambrosia means food of the gods. The name is not an exaggeration. When this salad appeared on American tables in the 1870s, fresh coconuts and citrus were rare luxuries, shipped north at great expense. To combine them in a single dish was an act of extravagance, a celebration reserved for holidays and special occasions.
The version we know today took shape in Southern kitchens during the early twentieth century. Canned pineapple and mandarin oranges made the ingredients accessible. Miniature marshmallows arrived in the 1950s, and home cooks folded them in without hesitation. Some traditionalists object to the marshmallows. I am not among them. They add a tender chew that balances the fruit's acidity and the coconut's texture.
What makes ambrosia work is the restraint of its sweetness. The whipped cream should be barely sweetened, letting the fruits and coconut carry the flavor. Drain your fruits thoroughly. Excess liquid is the enemy of proper texture. You want each component distinct, suspended in cream like jewels in a cloud, not swimming in syrup.
Quantity
2 cups (16 ounces)
Quantity
1 cup
very cold
Quantity
3 tablespoons
| Ingredient | Quantity |
|---|---|
| sour cream | 2 cups (16 ounces) |
| heavy whipping creamvery cold | 1 cup |
| powdered sugar | 3 tablespoons |
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