Crack the (Miracle) Whip!

With just a few simple ingredients, this classic potluck stand-out tastes much more complex than it is. Fresh, green broccoli combines beautifully with the richness of bacon and the sharp notes of cheddar and onion in a creamy dressing with just a hint of sweetness. This harmonious medley of flavors makes Mrs. Amelia’s Broccoli Salad an all-time favorite that’s sure to please your friends and family.

A note about taste… or lack thereof:

For whatever reason, most people seem to fall into one of two categories: Those who love Miracle Whip (the minority), and those who absolutely hate it. We’re talking Hatfields-and-McCoys, pineapple on pizza, and whether-those-squishy-orange-circus-peanuts-even-qualify-as-food level conflict.

I am actually one of the few people alive who seem to not mind eating either one. (My claim to fame!) Although I consider myself primarily a mayonnaise sort of girl, I buy a small jar of Miracle Whip now and then because I have a few favorite recipes (like Mrs. Amelia’s Broccoli Salad) that call for it.

And when I see the remainder of that Miracle Whip jar sitting wistfully in my fridge, I can’t resist having a sandwich with a skiff on it, just because, as I used to innocently say, “it tastes like Grandma.” I was especially close to my Grandma Gladys (an amazing cook), whose sandwiches always seemed to me to have a somewhat exotic hint of something wonderfully different about them — much later identified as Miracle Whip.

These days, the lovingly nostalgic memories do more for me than the actual taste of the stuff (which, I swear, tasted so much better when Grandma did it), but I still enjoy it on occasion. Perhaps more people these days would have acquired a taste for it if children were still taught to politely eat whatever was given to them when they were guests — even of Grandma.

That being said, if you absolutely can’t bring yourself to use Miracle Whip, go ahead and substitute mayo — it’s your salad, after all. And if it’s missing a certain mysterious ‘je ne sais quoi’… well, don’t come crying to me.

A small side note having to do with Grandmas…

The green bowl that the salad is pictured in belonged to my great-grandmother on my mother’s father’s side. She used it to make a loaf of bread by hand every week for her and Great-Grandpa back in the day. Now, back to our regular program:

A note about provenance…

This particular recipe was given to my mother by the mother of my first bff way back in first grade. Jamie and I are still friends, and I still think of her mother as “Mrs. Amelia,” instead of just “Amelia” — partly because of being taught as a child not to call adults by their first name unless it was preceded by “Aunt”, “Mrs.”, or the like, and partly because I just like the way it sounds.

There was about a five year stretch where I didn’t have to make this salad for myself because a coworker of mine, at everyone’s urging, almost always brought it our monthly office potlucks. (Miss you, Pamela B!) Sadly, I no longer work with Pam, so I have to make my own salad, which I don’t do nearly as often as I’d like, since my children are all strangely anti-broccoli. Seriously, I thought broccoli was supposed to be the one vegetable that even kids like (see the cute little trees!) — but my kids seem to be broken in the broccoli department.

However, apart from the rare weirdly picky child, this broccoli salad has been universally loved ever since a version of it was introduced at the Piggly Wiggly way back when. And it’s certainly never failed to disappear in its entirety from any function I’ve taken one along to.

Although they did not appear in the original recipe, I have, on occasion, added a few craisins and a sprinkling of sunflower seeds to this salad, if I happen to have them on hand, but it’s absolutely delicious with or without them.

So, whether you’re feeling nostalgic, have a block party to attend, or are just looking for a fabulous salad to go with dinner, try Mrs. Amelia’s Broccoli Salad tonight!

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