Tuesday, October 25, 2011

The first inspiration of today comes from Elizabeth at a moon, worn as if it had been a shell. She's a baker extraordinaire, and when she writes about food, I always want to drop everything and head to the kitchen. Elizabeth is taking a class called Food Crafting 101 -- a kind of home-economics redux, where she'll make cheese, jam, bread, and mustard, etc.

I suggested to my son that we make our own mustard, and he said, "I've done it."


It's hard to find something he hasn't made.

Last week it was ice-cream, again, and -- the brat -- he failed to let me know that there was HOMEMADE DARK CHOCOLATE PEANUT-BUTTER CHUNK ICE CREAM in the freezer. This is grounds for expulsion, I think, but then, who else would come into my kitchen and cook up a storm of everything marvelous?!

This is my small benefit of the recession and an unemployed son. One can always find blessings, often right under one's nose (and apparently in one's freezer).

But back to the ice cream: the first spoonful, and the second, and the third, ad infinitum, was an OMG moment. An OMGOL moment. (O! My! God! [Out Loud!]) So chocolately (gawd, I sound like Keebler elf) it was almost black, with spoonfuls of chunky peanut butter. Sublime.

Earlier this summer, there was fresh coconut ice cream, served with sugared blackberries just moments off the stem, and then there was fresh blackberry ice cream with a color so deeply and so perfectly purple I wanted to sit down and weep. Wanted to roll in it. Wanted to wear it, which I would've done had I given in to the urge to roll.

I do believe my son has found his niche.

Anyone looking for an ice-cream maker? That is, a human one?


  1. Dear T - An unemployed son - what a terrible thing it is -an oxymoron - an ingrowing toenail. As you know, my lovely second son has just scored a job after another stint of unemployment. He's had many such stints over the four years since he left school. This time, though, he has scored a builder's apprenticeship. We are so excited for him and for us. My boy didn't make ice-cream while he was unemployed, he fixed things, painted things, did my garden. But there's only so much one can do for your mum. There's also the heart to consider, the sense of self.

    Why not see if your son can sell his ice-cream? What he makes sounds out of this world. We have a small local gelateria (like an Italian one) - it's very popular - huge buckets of the most amazing flavours - coffee too. The latest ice-cream is strawberry and rose. There is no chocolate and peanut butter ice-cream. Good luck, T. And to your boy.

  2. o! coconut ice cream ....

    Love, C.

  3. Here's hoping he finds employment quickly before you need to start going to the gym twice a day.

  4. Been worrying about my 'ingrowing toenail' comment ever since I wrote it - I don't mean that the boys themselves are ingrowing toenails but that the state of unemployment for healthy willing young men is like an ingrowing toenail ... um ... if that makes any sense. X

  5. Luckily I've never had an ingrowing toenail, nor do I eat much ice cream, but it sounds as if your clever son should be making a fortune. Can't he go round all the specialist shops and offer his wares?

  6. Oh my. I'll trade you some jam and cheese for the ice-cream.

  7. When just the color is enough to make one swoon - or roll like a happy dog - clearly it is a blessing and a gift. I believe doing with abandon what one loves, without thought of income that hasn't materialized, paves the way as nothing else can.