I don’t know what kind of mood I was in the other day, but somehow I ended up making rainbow jello cubes like I was prepping for a kid’s birthday party in 1998. And honestly? It felt great. Like therapy but cheaper and with way better colors.
You ever have those weird cravings where you’re like, “I need something colorful. Something ridiculous. Something that jiggles”? No? Just me? Okay.
Anyway, the idea came to me while I was waiting for my laundry at the quarter machine downstairs. I’m sitting there scrolling through my phone, pretending not to notice that someone took my clothes out mid-cycle (rude) — and suddenly I’m remembering this random potluck from my childhood in Queens where some auntie (no one knows who she belonged to) brought these jello cubes stacked like Lego bricks.
Kids lost their MINDS, including me.
So I said, “Yeah okay, I’m doing this.”
H2: The Wild Thing About Jello Is… It Has Zero Chill
Like, the instructions act like you’re doing some delicate chemistry experiment. “Add exactly one cup boiling water.” “Stir until gelatin dissolves completely.” “Let cool for 10 minutes.”
Okay Gordon Ramsay, relax.
But rainbow jello cubes? They take this “follow instructions” thing to a whole new level because you’re not making one jello. You’re making layer after layer like you’re building a skyscraper made entirely out of edible stained glass.
The patience required is… questionable.
But listen. The payoff? Gorgeous. Stunning. Extra. They look like something Lisa Frank would’ve made if she went to culinary school.
A Tangent I Didn’t Plan on Telling (but here we are)
So while I was making these, my friend Angie stops by. And by “stops by” I mean she FaceTimes me unexpectedly, which honestly should be illegal. I pick up and show her the pan, and she just goes:
“Why does your kitchen look like a unicorn exploded?”
Which, rude.
But also accurate.
I tried to explain the nostalgia and the potluck and the mystery auntie but she just stared at me like I was about to start a TED talk titled Healing Your Inner Child With Gelatin.
Then she said,
“You’re not gonna eat all that yourself, right?”
…Girl. Absolutely yes I am.
But I lied and said, “No, definitely not,” because sometimes you just gotta pretend you’re a person who shares.
Why Rainbow Jello Cubes Are Weirdly Healing
You know how some foods just… slow you down? Like stirring risotto or peeling oranges or making dumplings with a friend you’re mildly annoyed with?
Rainbow jello cubes do that. Because you can’t rush them.
Memory Flash — Staten Island, 2003
I don’t know why making these jello cubes reminded me of this, but suddenly I had this vivid memory of a birthday party I went to in Staten Island. My cousin invited me. I wore two different socks. On purpose. It was like my personality trait at the time.
They had a dessert table with cupcakes and brownies and that weird cake from Costco that tastes the same everywhere no matter how many decades pass.
But the thing I remember?
A giant tray of jello cut into big squares — like, big enough to be an architectural hazard — and every kid ran straight for it.
One girl ate so much jello she got dizzy and had to sit down.
Iconic behavior.
Maybe that’s why my brain suddenly needed these.
Okay, Let Me Actually Talk About the Recipe Before I Forget
I know, I know. You’re like, “Can you actually tell me how to make rainbow jello cubes or is this just childhood therapy hour?”
It’s both.
Welcome to my brain.
H3: Ingredients You Probably Already Have (or can grab at the bodega)
- 5 boxes of Jello in different colors (go full rainbow or just vibes)
- 5 cups boiling water
- 5 cups cold water
- Whipped cream (optional but not really optional)
- A 9×13 pan
- Patience (not sold in stores, tragically)
H3: Directions — chaotic but accurate
- Pick your first color. I usually start with red because I’m basic.
- Pour the powder into a bowl.
- Add ONE cup boiling water. Stir like your life depends on it.
- Add ONE cup cold water.
- Pour into your pan as the first layer.
- Stick it in the fridge. Wait 20–30 minutes — DO NOT TOUCH IT.
- Repeat with the next color.
- And the next.
- And the next.
- Question why you committed to five layers.
- Finish anyway because you’re not a quitter.
- Refrigerate for at least 4 hours.
- Slice into cubes like you’re cutting rainbow gemstones.
Boom. Therapy in cube form.
A Small Confession About Layering Failures
Okay listen.
Not all my layers were even. The green layer is… lopsided. The yellow layer is thicker than the others because I got distracted watching someone argue on Reddit.
And the top layer has a weird bubble that looks like a tiny alien trapped inside.
BUT THAT’S FINE.
Because real jello isn’t perfect. It wobbles or jiggles like your stomach when you run down the stairs too fast.
The imperfections make it cute. Endearing. Relatable.
Like us.
How My Neighbor Reacted (because she ALWAYS reacts)
I brought her a plate because I didn’t want to deal with the judgment of:
“You really made five layers of jello by yourself?”
She opened the door, looked at them, and said:
“Is this art or dessert? I can’t tell.”
I told her it was both.
Then she ate two pieces before I even explained what they were.
Her verdict:
“This tastes like childhood and chaos.”
Honestly the most accurate review I’ve ever received.
One Thing You Should Definitely Do
Cut them into cubes after the whole tray is fully set. Don’t be me. Don’t get impatient at 1am and go, “It’s probably fine.”
It was not fine.
The knife got stuck.
The layers tore.
It looked like a rainbow crime scene.
I scraped it into a bowl and ate it anyway — zero regrets — but still.
Learn from my mistakes.
Why You Should Make These (besides the obvious)
Here’s the thing about rainbow jello cubes:
- They make adults happy.
- They make kids lose their minds.
- They make you feel like you have your life together, even when you don’t.
- They photograph ridiculously well.
- They’re cheap and cheerful and nostalgic.
- They taste way better than they have any right to.
But also — and this is the real reason — they remind you to play. To mess up the kitchen a little. To make something just because it’s colorful and fun and a little bit silly.
We need more silliness.
Especially in Queens, where the MTA has been trying to ruin my life for years.
Outbound Link Suggestions
- A chaotic nostalgia cooking blog: https://www.thekitchn.com/
- A funny thread of retro jello disasters (trust me): https://www.boredpanda.com/vintage-jello-recipes-weird/
A Totally Unnecessary Emotional Ending
Making these rainbow jello cubes made me feel like I cracked open a time capsule and ate the contents. They tasted like childhood birthday parties, bad plastic tablecloths, ice cream cake that melts too fast, my cousin spilling orange soda everywhere, and that weird feeling that everything fun happens in the summer.
And somehow — in the middle of my tiny Queens kitchen — with my fridge making that noise like it’s sighing dramatically, and my phone buzzing from a group chat full of nonsense, I felt… lighter.
Happier.
Like maybe life is allowed to be neon-colored and wiggly sometimes.
So yeah. Make the rainbow jello cubes.
Live a little.
And if anyone asks why, just say:
“Because they made me smile.”
