It was delicious.
However, no one knows just how delicious it was except for me, because I was the only one to eat it. No one else even tried one bite. And look how beautiful it was! You can even see blue sky and white fluffy clouds reflected in it's mirror-like surface for crying out loud.
Later in the week, the Jell-o project received what could be the kiss of death: One member of the household was having a medical procedure which required him to go on an all liquid diet for 24 hours. One of the few things he could eat on the liquid diet was plain Jell-o. Sure, plain Jell-o didn't allow me to flex my creative Jell-o muscles, but it was still Jell-o, and for once, a family member was requesting it.
Then, after 24 hours of Jell-o, white grape juice and beef tea, this family member, the main supporter of my Jell-o project (support being defined as eating most of the Jell-o project Jell-o without complaint) declared, "I really don't like Jell-o."
What is the point of going on? I have given it an honest shot and I really don't think I can get my family to like Jell-o. There might actually be some truth to my Jell-o gene theory. But I don't know if I'll ever find out.
Saturday there was a church picnic to which I brought Cherry Chiffon Jell-o using cherries I canned myself. I didn't take a picture because I made it in a 9 x 13 casserole and frankly, I thought it looked quite ugly. But it was tasty. And it quickly disappeared.
It appears the Jell-o Project should be brought to the masses.