Project Ice Cream

This week, Kristen makes homemade ice cream in her KitchenAid mixer.

It’s been over 90 degrees every day for two weeks. I don’t want to do shit. My friend and I bailed on leaving our air conditioned homes to visit air conditioned movie theaters twice. I’m not sure why I am a California TV writer, when my body and disposition make me far more suited to be an Alaskan Road Trucker. 

When trying to think of fun activities to do this week, I briefly considered playing a game of Monopoly with Jason, something we do once a decade that always ends in a fight, because I won’t sell my properties ever. Even if it’s a waste of my Monopoly money, even if it makes everyone else mad. I will not sell them, because they are mine. Ultimately, I decided that while it was too hot for a fight, it was just hot enough to make ice cream! It’s also the right moment for ice cream in a cone, which is just more of an event than ice cream in a bowl.

I worked for years at an ice cream shop in my hometown, and it gave me one arm that is powerful and strong and one arm that is just to dangle. It also taught me how to scoop a scoop and gently rest it on top of the cone, taking care to not hulk out and crush it. The ice cream shop is only place that I’ve ever gotten in trouble for both doing too good of a job and too bad of a job.

Good Job:  I was asked to stop being creative with my fancy ice cream sundaes after people came into the shop when I wasn’t there and asked the owner to remake their ice creams “the way that one girl does them.” 

Bad Job: I accidentally melted all of the ice creams in the display case due to a switch getting flipped in a series of events I, to this day, don’t understand. Why does an ice cream melting switch even exist in the first place? Why was it so easily knocked and not under a small glass case you have to break for emergencies? Why was I somehow not the first employee to accidentally melt all the ice creams and therefore couldn’t be fired?

I digress. To make the ice cream, I pulled out my KitchenAid mixer, a kitchen appliance which we obtained by, frankly, doing too much. It was 16 years ago, we were newly married (child bride), living in an apartment in Atlanta that cost $610 a month (disturbingly expensive). I was learning to cook and watching a lot of Food Network. Like parasocial-relationship-with-Alton-Brown levels of Food Network. Every host had a KitchenAid. Guy Fieri’s had flames painted on it. I had to have one. But they were like $299. Out of our league.

I started by contacting strangers on Craigslist for their used mixers, the way other people searched for sex. Then, Lowe’s misprinted an ad that accidentally put Kitchenaid mixers on sale for $120! Jason rushed to Lowe’s like he was trying to stop someone from getting on a plane, but was immediately thwarted by an employee who told him Lowe’s could not and would not honor the deal. This kicked off a month-long war between Jason Gore and Lowe’s. There was an argument at the customer service desk in which Jason threatened to contact the Better Business Bureau. There were strongly worded emails to Lowe’s corporate accusing them of “Bait and Switch.” They finally sold him the $120 mixer just to get rid of him. I just asked him about that time he annoyed Lowe’s into honoring their ad, and he said, “I wasn’t going to let you not get a KitchenAid.” Why can’t I just sell this man my Monopoly properties?

For a while after, his standard gift was another new KitchenAid attachment, until we finally admitted we were never going to stuff my own sausages. One attachment that has stood the test of time is the ice cream maker. I make ice cream the way everyone does, probably–a bunch of times during a single summer, then not again for three years. The last time I made ice cream was 2019, so I was overdue!

My favorite flavor is American Egg from Morgenstern’s Finest Ice Cream in New York. In my opinion, Morgenstern’s makes the best ice cream in New York, period, but that particular flavor is so custardy, so vanilla-y, so perfect. They’re not making it right now. I don’t know why. Did an American Egg hurt them? I went searching for a recipe that I hoped would be similar and I found this one from Melissa Clark in the New York Times. It’s named, promisingly, “The Only Ice Cream Recipe You’ll Ever Need.” 

In a small pot, heat heavy cream, milk, sugar, and sea salt until sugar dissolves. In a separate bowl, whisk 6 yolks. Temper the eggs with a third of the hot cream, whisking constantly. Whisk the tempered eggs back into the pot and simmer gently. I wanted vanilla, so I added three split vanilla beans and their seeds to steep, along with a teaspoon of vanilla extract. These were vanilla beans that I moved with across the country two years ago, so they were dry little husks that had seen some things. I probably could have just bought new vanilla beans, but I didn’t, and the vanilla flavor still came through, and no one got sick. Good enough! 

When the mixture reaches 170 degrees, take it off the heat.

Strain the eggy, vanilla-beany custard through a fine-meshed sieve.

Let the custard get to room temperature, then chill for four hours. To pass the time, watch four episodes of the new Project Greenlight. Text everyone you know about how bonkers it is, but accidentally call it Project Runway, not notice until the next morning, then text them all again to correct yourself. After four hours, you’re ready to make some ice cream!

Ours reached soft serve consistency after twenty minutes. We ate a small bowl, because you have to, then froze the rest overnight. The next day:

Perfection. This recipe turned out beautifully and gave me exactly what I was craving from American Egg. Rich, custardy, smooth, and full of vanilla flavor. It was the perfect antidote to a 95 degree days and Project Runway Greenlight-induced anxiety.

Look at that. After all these years, I didn’t hulk out and crush the cone.