Vanilla

Two weeks ago I was at my mother's house flipping through an issue of Gourmet Magazine.

I stumble across a recipe for a fancy mint chocolate chip ice cream dessert and think about my husband who enjoys a good bowl of mint chip. Now, as previously stated, I'm new to wifedom and working hard to excel at the job (see, I'm not so new I don't realize it's a job). Two seconds later I hear myself asking Mom if I can borrow her ice cream machine and two-point-five seconds later I'm getting a lesson in the finer points of using said ice cream machine.

I skip off happily home, stopping at my local Trader Joe's for heavy cream, whole milk, fresh mint and some good chocolate chips. My game plan is to follow the recipe for the ice cream and add chocolate chips instead of making a chocolate covered terrine. The first obstacle shows itself right in TJ's - no fresh mint. I hit no less than six grocery/specialty/gourmet shops (the joy of the suburbs) between TJ's and home, still no mint. It would be 5 days until mint was located. Odd, since I never have trouble finding fresh mint. I should have paid attention to my intuition, but glossed over it. I'm an excellent wife and I was making my husband mint chip ice cream.

On day 5, having located the mint, I decide to improve on the recipe, I steep the mint in the heavy cream overnight - I like my mint foods extra minty.

On day 6 I came home from the gym ready to launch my small batch ice cream empire. I feel extra virtuous because I hit the weights hard at the gym and I'm an excellent wife who can work, workout and make fresh ice cream.

The recipe, which I'd read 4 or 5 times seemed a bit convoluted so I called Mom to check in on the finer points. We're busy wives, Mom and I, and no one can cut the extraneous crap out of a recipe like her. Following a 9 minute chat I have a simplified version and am ready to roll.

It's 7:30 pm and my husband wants to know how soon he can expect dessert. I throw him out of my kitchen.

By 8 pm I am cooking the custard and everything has turned a very pretty shade of mint green. But something is off, my custard isn't as thick as custard should be. I re-read recipe and decide against calling Mom. Gourmet knows their stuff and I'm sure this will thicken when we hit 170 degrees on my trusty Alton Brown approved instant read thermometer.

The custard, which is still too milky for my comfort reaches 170 degrees at 8:05 pm and I fight off the urge to let it cook a bit longer. I reason that Gourmet knows their stuff and Alton Brown has approved of my instant read thermometer, so this is all going to be ok - though I have my doubts.

The custard gets put into an ice bath at 8:07 pm and following Gourmet's recipe would be ready to churn in 20 minutes. I keep my Alton Brown approved thermometer in the cream mixture, just as Gourmet tells me to do. At 8:27 pm on-the-dot my custard has cooled to a pleasant 102 degrees and I remember Mom's parting words from our earlier conversation " blah, blah something... let the custard cool before you churn it, you'll have an easier time the colder it is...blah, blah something... call me if you need help... blah, blah something... love you...'bye"

It will churn easier the colder it is...the colder it is...THE COLDER IT IS! This statement would prove to haunt me for the next two days.

I debated calling Mom back to ask if 102 degrees was cold enough, BUT, I had Gourmet and Alton Brown's thermometer on my side. So, I pour the custard into the ice cream machine and get ready to churn for 30 minutes as prescribed. At 9:06 pm the ice cream should be done churning and I pour the runny, gloopy, mess which doesn't resemble the "...consistency of soft serve, but colder..." Mom described and determined that this will work out because I followed Gourmet's recipe, even though I never follow recipes because I don't use them, ever. But, I reason, I am a very good wife and this dessert will WOW my husband.

8 pm the next night the mint chocolate chip has frozen and my husband, about to be WOWED, eats his ice cream. The (brave) Alpha Buck eats, nods his head in approval and offers me a spoonful, as he chokes out "it's good". I eat this offered spoonful and blurt out "this sucks" well, because it did. It wasn't minty enough, not enough chocolate and the worst part - I knew it was doomed 7 days ago when I couldn't find the mint.

At 8:08 pm I learn that my husband likes mint chocolate chip, but his favorite ice cream flavor is vanilla. The following conversation ensues:

Me: "Vanilla? Vanilla is your favorite? I thought mint chip was your favorite?"
Him: "Sweetie, Vanilla is my favorite ice cream. I even voted for it when Haagen Daas had that contest a few years ago. And I won."
Me; "Really? What did you win?"
Him: "Vanilla won - it was the best flavor."

Later, Mom happened to call. I told her the tale and ended, feeling sad like a wifely failure with the factoid that he loves vanilla best.

She perked right up and told me she had the best recipe for vanilla ice cream - cream, milk, couple eggs and vanilla. Of course, she never measures (and neither do I, except when following Gourmet magazine) so she couldn't tell me how much of anything because she wasn't sure. She tells me to keep the cream to milk ratio at roughly 2:1, but ended with the standard line of all cooks in my family "... just use what you've got..." I asked how long to churn and she replied "Oh, when it looks like a half-gallon of Breyer's that you left on the counter too long, stop."

Since I still had milk and cream and always have eggs and vanilla, I whipped up a batch. I didn't measure anything. I added more vanilla when I couldn't smell it when the custard came to a boil. I sat it in an ice bath for a few hours - because 50 degrees is cold enough (NOT 102). For the record, it took custard cooled to 50 degrees 70 minutes to look like good ice cream that had melted.

I can't tell you how it tasted, the alpha buck got home early from work last night and ate it all for dinner.