Because my nephew was a tall strapping young man with a healthy appetite, we got to pop open the can of grass jelly.

I had prepared the meal for our family plus my nephew but decided we might be a tad bit short of food. I knew he ate like a linebacker.

So I scoured the pantry for a can of something to add to the meal at the last minute.

I spied the can of grass jelly.

This can had come from  an oriental specialty market in Denver as part of a class project. We had been assigned to purchase items and peruse different foods.

We got to see live squid and aquariums where goldfish (well, they looked like goldfish) could be netted and bagged for the next meal.

We saw cans of exotic peppers and bags of noodles.

And cans of grass jelly.

My can ended up in the pantry for a time like this.

I pried off the lid to find a dark gelatinous mass. It reminded me of cranberry sauce in the can at Thanksgiving.

So I tipped the can and let the cylinder of jelly slide into the plate. I sliced it like cranberry sauce and served it with the rest of the meal.

There were questions. Lots of questions.

But I encouraged them all to be daring and taste it. My nephew twisted his mouth to one side.

“What is grass jelly?” he said.

“I don’t know. But it is food,” I assured him.

He nibbled the chunk on his fork. “Food? This tastes like it was made out of motor oil.”

Everyone dumped their helping back on the serving plate. And that was the end of the grass jelly experiment.

Except my nephew won’t come to a meal at my house without checking my pantry.