I can’t imagine anyone who doesn’t enjoy ice cream. Even those who have to refrain from eating it still want to enjoy it. And for those who can’t indulge in traditional ice cream, there’s always sorbet and other non-dairy, non-sugary options.
My love for ice cream began when I was a kid. My mom always had ice cream sandwiches in the freezer for my sister and me, which attracted many neighborhood kids to our house for snacks. I felt popular, though probably not because of my personality, but thanks to “Kwan Auntie’s” generosity. I like to think I’m still quite likable today because of all the desserts and ice cream I offer to friends.
In the 1980s, I was sent to a boarding school in England. The food was horrendous — the Oliver Twist sort — but there was always Viennetta and Arctic Rolls to cheer me up. Occasionally, I’d treat myself to a Magnum or a Cornetto, but they were quite expensive in the “Tuck Shop.”
When I moved to the United States for uni, I found myself in the land of Häagen-Dazs. My classmate Dave, who had transferred from New England, introduced me to two new Vermonter friends named Ben and Jerry. It was love at first sight. Who could have thought raw cookie dough could be soooo yummy?
Until that point in my life, ice cream had always been a treat, or something for after dinner. But then it became an affair when I studied in Rome, where gelato and I had a daily (or sometimes twice-daily) rendezvous. Giolitti (near the Pantheon) was my frequent destination during my passeggiata, and there was also the chocolate tartufo at Tre Scalini (Piazza Navona). There was no time of day when I’d turn down ice cream in Italy. (Note: one should stay away from gelati that have been coiffed into immaculate mounts — compressed air has been injected instead of artisanal mixing.)
Like many people, I became an avid home chef during the pandemic. I purchased an ice cream churner and started experimenting with my own recipes. I tried my hand at all sorts of methods and ingredients — fruits, chocolate, coffee, and syrup — only to narrow it down to custard as a must. I’m not so keen on sorbet or Philadelphia style (where there are no eggs).
My partner Graham is Irish and seems to have an endless supply of brown bread, thanks to our friend Noeleen, who ensures we are well-fed. Any leftover bread goes into making brown bread ice cream, using the recipe from the venerable David Lebovitz as a base. I like to spike the custard with a little Bailey’s, but keep in mind that alcohol doesn’t freeze, so use only a tiny, tiny bit!
For anyone who wants to create their own frozen magic, an ice cream machine (or an attachment for your KitchenAid stand mixer) is a must and offers a big bang for the buck. For those who prefer the indulgence without the churn — see y’all at Swensen’s, Mitchell’s, Salt & Straw, Molly Moon’s, or Van Leeuwen!
Leave a Reply