
I’m not what people would call ‘lactose intolerant’ but too much of a good thing leads to, well let’s just say less is best. Now, it seems that I have developed a small intolerance to lactose. With the egg yolks separated and beaten together with caster sugar, I heated the milk which was to be combined with the chocolate before being whisked together with cream. While you can go with your gut feeling most of the time, there are some things you shouldn’t muck with and I was concerned that ice-cream would fall into that category. I took the chocolate ice-cream recipe that came with my mixer and substituted the chocolate for caramel. When I cook I like to do things in whatever way seems logical to me, this sometimes ends in tears but it’s a risk I am usually willing to take. The toffee was the easy bit but I had a few questions about the finer details of the ice-cream. Most just make toffee and add it to purchased chocolate ice cream…slackers. Once I had come to terms with the process I started trawling the web for English toffee ice-cream recipes. My point here is that if you went to get ice-cream and they told you it would be 4 hours till you could have it, I don’t think anyone would eat it! When I read the recipe for making ice-cream and saw it had a 4 hour refrigeration step I had to take a second look…seriously!! The instant gratification that I usually associated with ice-cream would have to wait.

Sometimes you see a little Gelati shop as you walk along the street and as you pass, you are drawn inside to contemplate all the flavours that compete for your attention, other times you find yourself wandering to the freezer after dinner for a sweet treat. Ice cream truck in Sydney, Australia (Photo credit: Wikipedia)įor me ice-cream has always been one of those instant gratification things. As you get older it means different things like dinner parties or snuggling up on the couch Brigit Jones style in your PJ’s, with a chick flick, a box of tissues, a tub of ice-cream and a spoon. Growing up in a town with no McDonald’s, I remember running barefoot down the road clutching my pocket money and hoping to get some meltingly delicious soft serve. For some it evokes childhood memories of ice-cream vans driving through the streets on hot summer afternoons, music playing through a single megaphone speaker on the roof. Ice cream means something different to everyone.

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