In the time-honored ritual, Joey’s dad packs the outer bucket with ice and rock salt, then pours in the custardy delight that will eventually become the longed-for frozen treat. The cranking begins. Eager children take turns, but none last long, and they abandon the host to lone labor, cranking endlessly while the young ones run amok. He soon strips down to his undershirt. As his effort grows visibly more strained, some of the older children begin to drift back his way, knowing the shirt stuck to his back and the tendons standing out in his neck mean that the bucket’s about to give up something amazing.
People used to go to lengths for ice cream.
They did so for so long that no one really knows the dessert’s origin. Roman emperors sent runners to the mountains to retrieve snow, which the rulers would enjoy flavored with fruit and honey. Along with pasta, Marco Polo brought a Chinese recipe that presaged today’s gelato (Italian for “ice cream,” but more dense and less sweet than what’s found stateside). The frozen treat remained the province of the gentry—who had staff to go to those crazy lengths—until the 17th century, when a sweet, frozen custard was first offered to the masses at Paris’ Café Procope.
Virginia makes a couple of its own appearances in the pantheon of ice cream firsts: George Washington made the first known American purchase of an ice cream maker, in 1784. Records show that, in the summer of 1790, he shelled out a cool $200—today, upwards of $4,400, adjusted for inflation—to keep his new toy busy. And then there’s Thomas Jefferson, in whose hand the first American recipe for ice cream, vanilla, is written (what did the man not do?). OK, so he brought it back from France. But we think the statute of limitations expired long ago, and that we can go ahead and think of it as American. Even Virginian.
Today, store freezers are jammed with ice creams, sorbets and gelatos in flavors from simple vanilla to choco-raspber-espresso-cookie-kitchen sink—so many ready-made wonders that it doesn’t seem worth making our own. But there are strong reasons to do so. First, you control what goes in—no stabilizers, gums or other polysyllabic ingredients. Second, it’s almost absurdly easy: With the electric ice cream makers widely available today, you assemble a few ingredients, pour them in, and the machine does the work; after half-an-hour, you have soft-serve. Plus, you don’t have to fill an icehouse with 62 wagonloads of ice (a lá Jefferson) to prime and store your ices. Third, the results are generally sublime. Choose any of the freshest fruits and nuts, the highest-quality chocolate and the most wholesome milk. The process itself becomes a feast for the senses.
Latest Comments