210. Ice Cream

I am a fan of ice cream—good old American ice cream. The standard flavors found in a Neapolitan blend are our tradition—vanilla, chocolate, and strawberry—but we’ve gone way beyond that now. There was a time when I would probably eat it every day, but now I’ve learned to make it more an occasional, celebratory treat because too much of a good thing is probably not the best for you.

Fond childhood memories include summer gatherings with a hand crank ice cream freezer. We would put the creamy mixture of milk and cream and vanilla and sugar in a canister—usually add some huckleberries or chocolate or maybe pureed peaches—put it in the freezer, then surround the canister with ice cubes that had layers of rock salt thrown in, and then everyone would take a turn cranking the freezer until it just couldn’t be turned anymore. The canister would come out of the slush and the paddle would be pulled from the now frozen mixture and it was all like a magic trick with a delicious end result.

At other times ice cream was that wonderful soft serve from the drive-in that would magically swirl into a cone that the server might sometimes dip into a chocolate syrup that would harden over the ice cream. We would walk down the street trying terribly hard to balance our desire to cool down with the cone, our tongues slathered in white, while also eating it just fast enough that not a drop would mar the sidewalk.

It seems like now, in adulthood, that I am the only one in the family with such intense devotion to the frozen treat. Not that everyone doesn’t enjoy their pie a la mode, but none of them seem to relish it quite the way I do. Complaints of it hurting their teeth or freezing their brains seem nearly ludicrous to me.

Now that I’m older I don’t fiddle too much with making ice cream, though I will try it in new ways now and then. More likely I’ll buy a half gallon or go to a shop to get my fill. I have very much enjoyed gelaterias in Italy. They really know how to hit the citrus flavors out of the ballpark and I have not found any gelato here in the states that comes close to those limon and arancia flavors of Italy. But, of course, I seldom go to Italy. Another distant but favorite ice cream shrine for me is Ben and Jerry’s in Vermont. It even has a cemetery of discontinued flavors, making it seem like a real church! But again, how often do I get to Vermont? I get to England more often than I get to Vermont.

My favorite place around here is Ferdinand’s at Washington State University in Pullman. They have the best creamy ice cream I’ve ever had, for a price next to nothing compared to other ice cream shops. You can get a scoop of Cougar Tracks in a dish and have enough to share with a friend. To order two scoops would mean giving up your next meal and calling your cardiologist to set up an appointment for a stent! There’s also another great shop in Moscow and Sandpoint called Panhandle Cone and Coffee that I enjoy, but it’s their flavors that make them unique. You will definitely pay the price of a trendy tourist town when you get there. And I’ll even go for a scoop at Baskin and Robbins if I can find one. I can’t say I’m overly picky, but I do have my favorites. I could never go to Elk River without stopping at the General Grocer and getting some huckleberry soft serve. At any rate, I certainly do love ice cream.