It’s the world’s saddest display of Christmas cheer — a few slices of jelly on a glass plate spruced up with a sprig of parsley just waiting for someone to obliterate them with a spoon, or to simply dissolve quietly over time until all that remains is a brownish puddle in which swim some mangy pieces of a once-proud pineapple. A recipe on the opposite page is called “Poinsettia Salad.” It goes like this:
Arrange a few strips of pimiento on a slice of pineapple that has been placed on a lettuce leaf. Put a marshmallow in the center and top with a nutmeat. Serve with salad dressing.
Do not serve this dish. Don’t make your guests wish you’d served an actual wreath. Also, Poinsettias are very poisonous. Do not name anything edible after them. There is no such thing as a poinsettia salad. It will kill you dead. OK, it won't actually kill you but it won't taste as good as a salad made of lettuce.
Also from this book: Shedding Santa