It used to be when the kids were little, I’d spend my mornings whirling around the kitchen (or reading to kids or supervising chores or running errands). Now that I’m focused on starting up Milkslinger, I’m spending whole days in front of the computer which means my cooking creativity gets squeezed in around the edges. I miss the full-focus kitchen flurry, but today, it turned out, was a throw-back.
Thus far (it was 12:36 p.m. when I sat down to type this, cup of mocha in hand), I have…
*mixed up a batch of sourdough.
*mixed and shaped sourdough bagels and set them to rise.
*made a gorgonzola cheese and got it in the mold.
*flipped and resalted the brining cumin-tomato cheese I made earlier this week.
*scooped yesterday’s batch of clotted cream into a bowl for some luscious weekend indulging.
*made a batch of currant cream scones with the leftover clotted cream cream to eat with the creamy clotted cream.
(It was not the right kind of scone: they were too delicate to withstand the weight of the clotted cream, so I’ll be making a batch of sweetened biscuits shortly.)
Also, not pictured, I churned a batch of chocolate brownie ice cream. And yet to do: make those biscuits, make a double batch of chocolate ice cream, fix supper, shape the sourdough, and continue to baby the gorgonzola along. (But first, I might hit the couch for a coffee nap.)
Awhile back, one of my YouTube viewers mentioned a beloved homemade butter almond ice cream they grew up eating. I asked for the recipe. They complied, but then I sat on the recipe for weeks, thinking about it frequently but not making it. As one does.
But then I made it — twice!
With eggs. Obviously.
The first time I followed the recipe as given to me, egg yolks and all. (Which is not my typical style because I have concluded that I am not a huge fan of cooked eggs in my ice cream.)
The ice cream was very (very, very, very) good, and the yellow from the egg yolks added to the whole buttered almond vibe.
But then I decided to make it again, this time using my standard ice cream base which doesn’t have any eggs and relies on the addition of a corn syrup, cream cheese, and cornstarch (the three Cs) to give it a luscious creamy-dense texture.
Last night my husband and I performed the official taste test.
We both agree that:
Both versions of the ice cream are wildly delicious. “It tastes fancy,” is what my husband said.
We much preferred the version made with my standard base — the ice cream was much firmer and creamier. (I do kinda miss the golden color from the yolks, though, but I suppose I could always add a couple yolks to the hot mix at the end, if I was so inclined.)
P.S. I’m loving my new ice cream containers. They are sturdy, they prevent against freezer burn, and they hold the cold. (Two-quart here; one quart here.)
Butter Almond Ice Cream With inspiration from a recipe from one of my YouTube viewers.
For all ice cream related information, see this post. I am continually updating it with any new ice cream skills that I learn.
2 cups milk 1 ¼ cups cream ⅔ cup sugar 2 tablespoons corn syrup 4 teaspoons cornstarch mixed with a small glug of milk 1 ½ ounces cream cheese ⅛ teaspoon salt 1 teaspoon almond extract 1 tablespoon amaretto buttered almonds (see below)
Combine the milk, cream, sugar, and corn syrup in a saucepan. Bring to a boil and then keep at a gentle rolling boil for 4 minutes. Whisk in the cornstarch paste and boil for another minute.
Remove the pan from the heat. In a small bowl, whisk together the cream cheese, salt, and a bit of the hot milk mixture to create a smooth sauce. Add to the hold milk. If the mixture is not perfectly creamy (I find that the cream cheese makes the mixture pebbly), pour it through a sieve or give it a quick whirl with an immersion blender. Add the almond extract and the amaretto. Chill the mixture thoroughly.
Churn the ice cream. Scoop it into a freezer container, layering in the buttered almonds as you go.
for the buttered almonds: 1 cup sliced almonds 3 tablespoons butter 2 tablespoons sugar flaky salt
Melt the butter in a skillet. Add the almonds and stir constantly. Once the almonds begin to get a little toasty, add the sugar. Continue stirring and watch closely — they can burn quickly! Once they are golden brown, immediately transfer them to a plate and sprinkle with the salt. When they have cooled completely, place them on a paper towel to absorb the excess butter.
Store the buttered almonds in an airtight container in the freezer. Add them to ice cream, salads, or anything else that strikes your fancy.
A month ago, my younger brother posted on Facebook about a book series he was reading. “Assigning my book-series-of-the-year award to The Rosie Project and its two sequels, which somehow keep getting better. This series has done more to help me come to terms with my autistic dimensions than all the therapy I’ve ever had, combined.”
Well. My parents read the book, of course, and then they ordered two copies, one for my other brother and one for me.
I got about six chapters in and was loving it so much that I just had to tell my husband about it. I tried to explain the plot and all the funny things, but then I stopped short. “Let me just read it to you. Can I read it to you? Please?” My husband said sure, in his I’m-enduring tone, and I flipped back to start at the beginning. One chapter down, he allowed me to keep going. Two chapters down, he nodded for more.
he folds laundry, I read
That weekend we read that book around the clock: after breakfast, on the porch with our afternoon coffees, at bedtime. Partway through, I realized that I’d better get the next ones, so I quick ordered them. Now we’re deep into the second one in the series.
Last week I stopped to get gas when I was out running errands with my younger son. As we pulled into the gas station I said, “The tank’s on the left, right?” (Our van’s tank was on the left and the little car’s tank was on the right, so it’s always been a mental exercise to figure out which side of the pump to pull up to.) My son said, “There’s an arrow by the gas tank on your dashboard telling you which side the tank is on,” and my mind exploded a little.
And then I opened the tank and began pumping gas and my son said, “Don’t let the lid dangle; it’ll scratch up the car. You’re supposed to loop it over this hook.” And then he reached around me and demonstrated.
***
If you have old-fashioned tins to hold sugar, flour, and such, there’s a high probability that prying off the lid requires a combination of arm and fingertip strength that may often turn you a bit red in the face and cause you to hurl the canister at the closest human and bark, “Open the dang thing for me.” At least that’s how it goes for me.
But then one time a long time ago (I’ve been meaning to tell you this for years now) my husband saw me struggling with the sugar tin and said, “You know there’s a solution, right?” And then he tore off a piece of waxed paper and rubbed it all over the part of the lid that always stuck against the canister. And just like that, the lid slipped on and off, no red ragey face required.
The wax lasts for a few weeks, maybe months, before a fresh coat is required. Amazing, no?
***
Let’s (briefly) talk movies.
1. We finally got around to watching Origin, the movie based on the “Caste” book, my favorite read of 2020. After it was over, my first response was, “Wow, what a good book,” even though it was a movie. Because since the movie was all about the writing of the book, it made me feel like I had just read the book — how’s that for a cool trick! (Just minutes into the movie, when he learned that it was based on a book, my younger son downloaded the audio version from Libby, and then he spent the next week engrossed in “reading” it.)
2. Last weekend’s family night movie was American Fiction.
Funny and cutting, I got a kick out of it and it gave me stuff to think about.
***
Wanna know something that’s always bugged me? Mainstream how-to-cope-with-hot-weather advice. Don’t go outside, they say. Hydrate, they say. Stay in the air conditioning. Their advice is so logical and obvious, it feels patronizing. Also, pretty darn unhelpful. What about people who don’t have air conditioned homes? What about people who, like my husband, have a profession that requires them to be outside all day long?
Besides, it’s only gonna get hotter. What are we all supposed to do? Just sequester ourselves away for the rest of eternity? Who’s gonna grow the food? Who’s gonna cook it? Who’s gonna build the houses and fix the roads and tend the animals? Are we all gonna turn into lumpies (cool lumpies) sitting on our couches for half the year, too scared of breaking a sweat to go outside and smell the flowers?
During peak summer, we switched our 2:00 pm game to 5:30 pm. We’re not gluttons for punishment.
When exposed to heat for a long stretch of time, your body will gradually adapt.
Being exposed to extreme heat without first allowing the body to adapt can result in feeling punk. Also death. But this doesn’t mean you have to stay out of the heat!!!!
To acclimate to the heat, gradually increase your physical activity in a hot setting over the course of two weeks until you can comfortably work/exercise for your target amount of time. For me, this means being able to walk four miles, or play Ultimate for a couple hours, or spend a whole day working over a hot stove in a hot house.
In extreme heat, drink one cup of water every 15 minutes.
Don’t wait for a heatwave to acclimate. Once hot weather hits, begin to get acclimated right away so that you can better endure the temperature spikes.
Heat adaptation lasts as long as you use it. After one week of not being in the heat, your body begins to lose the acclimatization it gained, and after one month of not being exposed to the heat, it returns to baseline.
It’s supposed to reach almost 100°F tomorrow. This spike comes after a full week of deliciously cool temps, so any heat acclimation I gained over the summer is already fast fading and means that tomorrow will probably be a harder day, physically, for me than the peak summer heat because my body is not currently acclimated.
However! I did walk a few miles over the hot noon hour yesterday, so that may improve my ability to cope with the heat and enjoy tomorrow night’s sweaty Ultimate game.
At least I hope it will.
***
The other week when I was recuperating from that wicked stomach bug, I had a number of days without much of an appetite. (I know. Jennifer without an appetite is a little like saying the ocean has no water: inconceivable.) But then one evening I got a fierce hankering to eat something — but what? After a bit of pondering, I finally landed on it: rice with lemon (lime) pepper. So I fixed myself a bowl of steaming rice with a huge pat of butter and tons of lime pepper. It was divine.
But then I wanted something. . . more. Protein! I popped open a can of tuna and flaked in the meat. Boy oh boy, did that ever hit the spot.
The more I’ve thought about (and eaten) that meal since then, the more I realized that it’s perfect — as a snack, as a late night supper, as an emergency meal. How have I gone nearly half my life without eating this? Younger me was seriously missing out.
Rice with Tuna
White rice, cooked Tuna, drained Butter, lots of it Lemon or lime pepper
Toss the hot rice with flaked tuna. Stir in lots of butter. Add some more butter. Shower the rice and tuna with lime pepper. Top with a dollop of butter. Eat.
***
For all you women who are in menopause, or fast approaching menopause, or have gone through menopause — in other words, ALL y’all women — listen up. A couple months ago, I scored an interview with an actual menopause doctor — a practitioner and a researcher. We talked for nearly an hour (an hour in which I struggled to stay afloat in the tsunami of science), and then I spent hours crafting our conversation into a readable interview, followed by even more hours editing (with my mom’s help, thank you, Mom!), and then even more hours making the doctor’s final edits. The interview is long. When it pops up in your feed in the next few days, get comfy. I am so excited for you to “meet” this expert.
