Home Made Ice Cream: The Agony and the Ecstasy

The plan to make my own ice cream started a while ago. I’m not sure exactly when, a year at least. I planned and plotted this out for a while.

I don’t know why I always want to try to make everything myself. It’s a compulsion that started in childhood, when I would carefully sew pillows for my dolls and trim them with my stringy, awkwardly crocheted lace (Usually blackened by my dirty fingers by the time it was ready to be attached.

I guess it comes from the feeling of connection I have with things I’ve made, I talked about this a bit in my post about hand-made gifts. Also, the sense of pride I get from having produced something tangible. Either way, as ice cream and making things are my two favourite things, it was inevitable that I’d try my hand at ice cream making.

I ordered David Liebowitz’s book, “The Perfect Scoop” from Amazon a few months ago. The fuss the food blog community made over this book was more than recommendation enough. It seemed that even looking at another ice-cream recipe was tantamount to heresy. Over the following weeks I’d pick up the good book, casually flip through the pages, admire the bright photos, marvel at the exotic recipe names.

Then came The Big Move. Obviously all thoughts of making anything were pushed aside (although I did eat a shocking amount of store bought ice cream in this time). On one expedition to Wal-Mart for house things, I did find a Hamilton Beach ice cream maker on sale for $35. Not the fanciest model, by any means, but the price was right. It was actually one of the first things moved into the new house, as I laid it on a shelf when I walked in and there it sat for over a month.

After the move was the trip, and then there were guests. And then I didn’t want to do much of anything for a while. Finally Boyfriend returned and settled in. Last week was Labour Day, and the time was finally right.

Saturday over dinner we decided that we were really going to do it this time. Knowing that the canister needed to freeze for 24 hours, I popped it into the freezer, and we were on our way! Sunday, we bought the ingredients for chocolate ice cream (of course we were starting with chocolate, do you even know us?). This meant going to the grocery store and buying a 2L of 2% milk (we needed that anyway) 1L of whole milk, and a half litre of cream. Fortunately I’m immune to strange looks from my cashier at the grocery store.

Back home, I set about the recipe, with Boyfriend near by for amusement and support. It was an awfully fussy recipe. Heat this, chill that, strain, use every bowl in the house, etc. I got a bit frustrated here and there, but my frequent tastings assured me that I was making something delicious. Finally ready, we double checked the instructions and saw that the batter also had to chill for 24 hours. Darn. Into the fridge it went, and we waited another day.

Holy cow, I forgot to mention that we got a baby kitten during this time! His name is Stringer Bell and he’s 8 weeks old. He’s the cutest thing in the history of cute things, but isn’t allowed to have ice cream and so is unrelated to this blog post.

Monday night finally came. Our long weekend over, back to work and school the following day, it was at last time to make ice cream. I put together the machine, poured in the mixture (spilling a lot of it down the stove and onto the floor in the process) and waited. And waited. And waited. Our mixture did not become ice cream. It did not look like it would become ice cream. This was pretty disappointing.

We decided to save the mixture and try again tomorrow. As we poured it from the machine into a container we realized, we had way too much of it. The instructions for the machine had cautioned against using more than a litre, but as the recipe claimed to produce a litre we hadn’t thought much of it. As it happened, if you include what had spilled, we had nearly 2. We put the batter back in the fridge, washed the canister and put it back in the freezer, and waited another day.

After work on Tuesday, we made one last try. This time we only put in a half litre and, with fingers crossed, tried again. It took a little longer than the instructions said, and had a consistency more like melty soft serve, but it was ice cream! And it was the most delicious ice cream I have ever tasted. I’m not exaggerating, and I have eaten an awful lot of ice cream. It was so rich, but just shy of too rich, so creamy, so …. Perfect! It was unreal. It was worth it.

We made the rest of the batch the next day, with the same results. We wound up with about 1.5L all together (not including that which was spilled) and after a night in the freezer it had the consistency of regular ice cream.

I figure that this ice cream cost $4-$5 for ingredients. I can get ice cream for that much or maybe cheaper if I watch for sales. But not the brands I like. Premium ice cream costs more, Breyer's runs $6.99-$8.49 for 1.5L, Moo Moo's (local) is $15 per 1.5L, and Hagan-Daaz is a staggering $21. I think the taste of my ice cream ranks up with the higher end, maybe better.

There's obviously a bigger time commitment, but that sort of thing doesn't bother me too much. I like concocting. It's worth it for me. Besides, in time I may be able to streamline the process, I foresee quite a lot of home made ice cream in my future!

Introspection and Cabbage

"Know thyself" said the Greeks. Maybe Socrates, maybe someone else. Thoreau left society to live alone in the woods in order to accomplish this, among other reasons.

Why the philosophy? I don't know. Maybe because I'm considering my life and where it's going. I've been spending more time alone than usual, which as Thoreau discovered causes those sorts of thoughts to spring forth.

I've been spending time alone because I've been living alone, for the first time in my life. I've had roommates since moving away from home. Technically this place is not mine alone, Boyfriend will be moving in with me. But he's spent the summer on the Northern Peninsula and I've been on my own in this house for nearly two months.

There have been times when the solitude has been a relief, even a joy. After a heavy day at work, or a week that's found me busy every night. It's wonderful to have a space over which I had complete control, a place where there was no need to consider anyone else at all. Music if I wanted it, silence if I didn't. No mess if I didn't make one, and no one else judging my mess if I did.

There have been other times, when the solitude has become emptiness. Where my house, instead of seeming large, became tight, closed and oppressive. One Saturday morning I dashed out to the grocery store, just to be around people. I'd only been on my own since the previous afternoon, but at that moment it was more than I could handle.

What have I learned in this time? I think I do well enough on my own, but I do need other people. I need someone to share my life with. I can make a house feel like home all by myself, but I want to share my home. Not with just anyone, but with someone I love who loves me, to share not just my home, but my life. Boyfriend will return from his Northern adventure next week, and he'll move in then. And I'm ready for that.

The other issue about living alone is the cooking. I discussed this in an earlier post, but I find very little pleasure in cooking just for myself. It doesn't seem worth the time or the dishes. I eat tuna sandwiches, cheesy eggs, and veggies from the market. Almost all my meals are forgettable.

Except this one:

In a fit of loneliness the other evening, I decided to make the ultimate comfort food. It had to be warm and mushy, to start. It had to have cabbage (because the cabbage couldn't wait any longer to be cooked) and it needed to have chicken-soup levels of comfort.

I started with a recipe from I Know How to Cook By Ginette Mathiot but I changed it a lot. That's something new for me. Maybe when I'm feeding myself I'm more likely to take risks? Who knows. Anyway, I came up with the following, which was everything I needed it to be:

Comfort Cabbage

Half a large cabbage, sliced to ribbons
An onion, chopped
1-2 Tbs olive oil
1 slice prosciutto, ripped to bits
1 cup chicken broth

Heat the oil in a large skillet over medium heat, then stir in the onions. Add a pinch of sugar to help them brown. When they start to brown a little, add the cabbage and stir to coat. Pour the broth over and reduce heat to a low simmer. Simmer for about an hour, stirring occasionally. Done!

The Air Freshener Rant

I hate air fresheners, room scents, and anything created by the Glade company. Strong words, but carefully considered.

I should mention I do not have a problem with scents, even artificial scents in general. I am an avid collector of perfumes, and I wear one almost every day (but never at the office, because I'm a stickler for rules). The difference is that for perfume we're talking about a half drop selected by myself that no one else can smell. I frequently do checks on this with either Boyfriend or other friends, "Can you smell me now? How about now? No? Good!" A scent can be a very personal thing. Room scents, on the other hand, fill the air, and everyone has to smell them. Moreover, I find most of them unpleasant. Scented oils are heavy, incense is smokey, and those awful aerosols and plug-in things just smell like a chemical swamp. I was excited by the claims of febreeze when it first came out, as it was advertised as a product that would eliminate smells without covering them up. I imagined a sort of spray baking soda. It's not. It smells like febreeze, which smells awful. I recently read about a woman who, when she was too busy to clean would squirt windex into the air to trick guests into thinking she had. It always worked and I bet smelled better than febreeze.

I don't see what's wrong with having your house smell like it does naturally. I open the windows as often as I can and I clean regularly. My house smells fine. I use baking soda in the fridge, the garbage and anywhere else that a bad smell might have a chance to grow and that takes care of that. I have the added advantage that I bake frequently, so my house often smells like baking. That's all the perfume it needs.

There are times, however, when the house gets a bit stale. I experienced this a few weeks ago when we had some pretty warm weather. There was no breeze coming in through the windows and, even though the house was clean, the air was heavy and sticky. I had guests staying with me and I knew they would be tired when they arrived. I wanted my house to be fresh and refreshing, I wanted it to smell like lemons. There's an easy and cheap way to do this without using lemon scented air wick. (I can only assume that whoever created this product has never actually encountered a lemon)

The only room-scenting technique I have ever employed comes from an old "Hints from Heloise" column. One of the few that doesn't involve re-using old containers. Basically, boil some cinnamon. It makes your house smell like cinnamon. Duh. So simple, and so perfect. Now, the cinnamon part has never quite worked for me, as the smell makes me crave it so badly that I usually wind up dropping whatever I was busy with to make a coffee cake. But this technique works with almost anything. The evening my guests were to arrive I put a few drops of lemon juice in bowls which I placed around the house. I then boiled the kettle and poured the water into the bowls. The cold bowls increased the steam, which quickly dispersed through the air. Each room was immediately freshened, and had just a slight hint of real lemon. Less than five minutes, barely costing a penny and no huffing mystery chemicals. Ta da!

July has been kind of a crazy month. For one thing, I moved with 8 days notice. When I was starting the process I thought how I did it might make for an interesting blog post, but I did everything wrong, so I really can’t give anyone advice on this particular topic. I'’m not far enough removed from the various disasters for them to be funny yet, so I won’t be talking much about them either.
In the midst of this chaos, I hopped on a plane to St. Anthony to visit Boyfriend. Boyfriend is working as a Viking this summer, as part of the Norstead Theatre Festival. Norstead is the recreation of a Viking trading community circa 1000 AD built near the archaeological site at L'’Anse aux Meadows, where the Vikings actually did settle 1000 years ago. It’s something I always wanted to see, and with Boyfriend there (for three months!) I had the perfect excuse.
It was a wonderful vacation, although the weather was bad. On a foggy day I climbed to the lookout point on top of a cliff, where I could see the waves crash on shore and the mist swirl around the sod longhouses. On a rainy windy day I retreated into one of those longhouses, with strawberry plants growing on the roof, and sat around the fire with ladies in full Viking dress. One of these, called Olga on the site but Violet outside, taught me naalbinding. Naalbinding is the technique Norse women used to knit hats, mittens and socks. It uses only one needle, about 3 inches long, flat and made of Caribou bone. The needle is threaded and worked through loops on the opposite thumb. As much as I love crochet I’'ve never mastered knitting, which can be frustrating as it’s much better for practical items. Perhaps two needles are just too many for me. Naalbinding might be the answer. Boyfriend has promised to bring a needle home with him when he comes.
When off site, I stayed with Boyfriend and two of his co-workers, P&N in a modern 2 bedroom apartment. Since they were hosting me and saving me the cost of accommodation, I wanted to do something nice for them. If you know me, you already know this means I did some cooking. There were a couple of challenges to this. First, they are only there for the summer, so they only brought the necessities in terms of equipment. Second, I didn’'t want to buy a lot of ingredients that wouldn'’t get used up. Finally, P is a vegetarian, something I’m not used to considering.
The first day I made Marcella Hazan’'s fabulous tomato and onion sauce, because it was easy and they had all the ingredients on hand (Put ¼ cup butter, one onion, one large can of tomatoes in a pot. Season with salt and pepper, simmer for 45 minutes) I served it over rigatoni, because that’s what was there. The second day we went to the grocery store where I bought ingredients for quiche, pizza, and chili.
I used a pot for a mixing bowl, a beer bottle for a rolling pin (I know a wine bottle is classier, but hey, we were Vikings, after all) and when the chili wouldn't fit in the pot I split it into two pots.
Like most vacations it was over way too fast and I was plunged back into the chaos that is my house. But more on that later, when I'm ready

On Handmade Presents

Even though I crochet almost constantly, I don't often give handmade gifts. Generally, I give people books. Almost exclusively, actually. Handmade gifts are an awful lot of work and (somewhat selfishly, I admit) I have trouble parting with something I've worked very hard on. This is clearly evidenced by the four afghans that are currently draped over my living room furniture. Also, handmade gifts are often just as expensive as store bought ones. I use synthetic yarn and it still costs anywhere between $50-$100 to get enough for a blanket or even a small throw.

So when I make a handmade gift, it's usually a very special occasion, and for someone I love very much. I'm currently working on two, which is very unusual. It's got me thinking about what it means to make something for someone else. The most special gift I've made so far was for the first of my friends to get married, M&H. It was a pretty hefty financial investment, as well as an enormous time investment. I made them a white bedspread, and it took me six months. They say the most important part of a gift is the thought that goes into it. When you're making a gift, it's not just one thought, it's many thoughts. While I was making that bedspread I thought about them the entire time. I don't mean that I was 100% focused on just them, but somewhere in my mind every single stitch (and they were countless) was for them. Every stitch was a little hope, a little prayer, and a thank you for all the love they've given me.

On Victory and Independence

Last night my mother made a roast chicken for Sunday dinner. After dinner I collected the bones and scraps and took them home with me. I put it in the stockpot with vegetable odds and ends, herbs and water and let it simmer for 3 hours. While that was happening I planted my Victory garden.

Since many have asked, my Victory Garden is basically a simple kitchen garden. During WWII in England people were encouraged to replace their flower gardens with vegetable gardens so they could use fewer food rations and support the army. Now, my vegetable garden won't help any soldiers anywhere, but I like to call it that anyway.

I've heard people complain that growing vegetables is even more expensive than buying them, but these people are probably falling into the trap of buying things they don't need. My garden cost less than $10 this year. I had a trowel and a watering can that I'd purchased several years ago for about $5 each. They're still perfectly good. I borrowed a shovel from my parents and I bought 6 packets of seeds for $3, 3 bags of black earth for $3 and a bag of sheep manure for $2. I also let a couple of potatoes and onions sprout. This is plenty for my garden. It's a little longer than a meter and a little wider than a half meter. It's small, but I plant more densely than the packets say and last year I got more vegetables than I could eat. Many wound up being given away or getting made into soups and frozen. It doesn't always work, last year I didn't get any carrots, but this year I only planted about half of each package, so I'll have more to plant after the first harvest. Also, I only planted vegetables that I know will grow in my climate, so I won't have any disappointments like I had last year. (Dreams of broccoli dead in the dirt)
So I planted peas, beans, lettuce, radishes, cabbages, carrots, onions and potatoes. The only one I haven't grown myself before are the cabbages. But it's Newfoundland, surely cabbages will grow fine? Anyway, if this summer is anything like last summer, I may be able to get enough veggies for several months.

This morning a warm rain fell on my garden and I made a vegetable soup out of my stock. I browned some onions in oil and then added four cups of vegetables (I had potatoes, carrots, parsnip, turnips and celery on hand) then 5 cups of stock (I have a litre and a half left) and a large can of diced tomatoes with their juice. After a half hour of simmer I got more than 3 litres of soup with less than $5 worth of ingredients, and when I make that soup this summer I'll use fresh vegetables from my own garden.

It gives me a wonderful sense of independence to provide healthy food for myself, growing it is even better. My own little victories.

No Spend Month Day 31: The Wrap Up

I've learned a lot of things this Month, but one thing struck me most of all. I have wonderful family and friends. They have been so overwhelmingly supportive and generous that a couple of times I felt like I was cheating. They've been there for me with constant encouragement and have treated me to lunches and even a movie. Above all I have to take a moment to thank my wonderful Boyfriend, without whom I surely would have cracked. It was very hard to leave a job I loved, even though I believe I'll be back, and he got me through that. That day I thought I just couldn't make it, he took me out for pizza and beer. He brought bottles of wine and a tub of decadent ice cream. These were just the physical tokens of his emotional support, which was constant and unfailing.

Anyways, that's enough mushy stuff, time to get to brass tacks: What did I spend?

I spent $99.32. Considering I spent more than that on each of my trips to Sephora last month, I'm pretty impressed with that.

I bought:
Milk, butter, eggs, honey, peanut butter sugar, green peppers, red peppers, corn on the cob, bananas, a candy bar and bag of chips, cheese, beans, peas, lettuce, rubber gloves, 4 cups of coffee (2 for Boyfriend, as small tokens of gratitude) 6 packets of vegetable seeds, and my last loonie went to an adorable little girl selling Kool-Aid to benefit the Janeway Children's Hospital.

The thing about this budget, is that it's unsustainable. I didn't buy any personal hygiene products, no clothing, no books, no gifts, less than $10 on entertainment. Also, I had a freezer stocked with chicken, salmon, ground beef and lamb stew. I had a pantry full of flours, pasta, lentils, rice, almond milk, chocolate chips, canned tomatoes, yeast, oils, vinegars and seasonings. I had large bags of apples, potatoes, carrots, onions and big head of celery. I even had a half bottle of wine for cooking.

This post is getting long enough, so I'll talk a bit more about lessons learned sometime this week. What I'm immediately taking away is this:

I set myself a goal and I achieved it. I lived on a very restricted budget for 1 month. I did it with help. I used what I had, I accepted the generosity of others, and I did without. I definitely think I'll do this again next year, and in the meantime I'll resolve to take my new habits forward. Here's to waste-less summer!