Homemade ice cream

With hot summer days upon us, it's the perfect time for homemade ice cream, right?

Right. Before we could achieve this goal, however, we had been waiting for three things to happen. One, we needed to find an ice-cream maker. Our old thrift-store machine had broken, so we had been keeping an eye out at various thrift stores for a replacement. We were finally able to locate one (in a rather shocking pink color). This is a much larger machine than we're used to, with a generous six-quart capacity.

Pink or not, we weren't quibbling with the price of $10. New machines cost a lot more.

We found this machine back in May, and we kept it on the porch waiting for the second thing to happen: Milking Maggie. We found the ice-cream maker several weeks before little Lucy was born, so we needed to wait until we had the necessary milk and cream available.

And third, of course, we were waiting for hot weather. Who wants to eat ice cream when it's not hot out?

Finally all three things came together, and I decided to make ice cream.

I started with plain vanilla. This takes just a few ingredients: Milk, sugar, cream, vanilla, and a pinch of salt. (It also calls for half-and-half, but hey, that's just milk mixed with cream.)

I started by skimming some cream into a bowl.

Then I scalded some of the skimmed milk...

...after which I added the sugar and salt and stirred it until the sugar dissolved.

Mixing milk and cream to make half-and-half.

Adding vanilla.

The mixture (called a "base") should be chilled before putting it in the ice-cream canister. I poured it into a gallon mayo jug and put it in the fridge for half an hour or so.

After cooling, into the ridiculously tall canister it went, along with the paddle.

I had bought a bag of ice for the occasion, so I put the canister in the bucket of the ice-cream machine and layered the space between canister and bucket with ice and rock salt. I let the mixture churn for 40 minutes.

The ice-cream maker performed perfectly fine. The only thing it didn't do was make the base into ice cream. That's because I was too parsimonious with the ice and salt (I was trying to divvy up the ice so I could make another batch later). As a result, the "ice cream" came out of the canister in the same liquid form as when I put it in.

I've made ice cream many, many times in the past, and have never had the result this liquid-y before. To be fair, though, our previous ice-cream machines were much smaller than this one, so adding too little ice was simply a rookie mistake. Note to self: Add more ice and rock salt next time.

Not to be deterred, I poured the base into a bowl and put it in the freezer overnight. We tried it the next day when the ice cream was frozen, and it was fabulous.

However I wanted to make some peach ice cream (peaches are my favorite fruit), but hadn't gotten around to getting more ice yet. So ... I decided to make ice cream without the machine.

There are a number of ways to do this, so I opted for the freeze-and-stir method.

I repeated the process of skimming the cream...

...scalding the milk, mixing the half-and-half, etc.

However this time, to the same base recipe, I added some peach purée I had canned up a couple years ago.

A few days ago, Don helped out with a community ice-cream fundraising event and came home with a couple of empty gallon-sized ice-cream tubs. Originally he planned to use them for holding nuts, bolts, screws, etc., but then changed his mind and suggested they be used for homemade ice cream instead. However in the case of the peach ice cream, the base filled a tub almost to overflowing.

So I transferred the base to a larger bowl and covered it with one of those shower cap-style bowl covers.

I put the bowl in the freezer and set a kitchen timer. Once an hour, for four hours, I pulled out the base and stirred it up.

After that, I simply left it in the freezer overnight and throughout the next morning to let it freeze solid.

And you know what? It was delicious!

Maybe gourmands can tell the difference between churned and unchurned ice cream, but we couldn't. Conclusion: Don't let the lack of an ice-cream maker – or the lack of ice, in our case – deter you from making homemade ice cream.

That said, it's a very, very good thing the dairy ingredients were free since they came from our own cow. Purchasing the necessary amount of milk, half-and-half, heavy cream, or even the peaches to make purée would, unfortunately, make it far more economical to buy a gallon of commercial ice cream. Sadly, that's the reality of current food prices.

Here are the recipes I used, which came with the ice-cream maker. The recipes below make four quarts:

Vanilla Ice Cream
• 2 cups milk
• 1 3/4 cups sugar
• 1/2 teaspoon salt
• 2 cups half-and-half
• 1 tablespoon vanilla extract
• 4 cups whipping cream

Scald the milk until bubbles form around the edges. Remove from heat. Stir in sugar and salt until dissolved. Stir in half-and-half, vanilla, and cream. Chill for 30 minutes before churning.

Peach Ice Cream
Same recipe as above, except add four cups of peach purée before freezing.

A little ray of sunshine

Some of you might remember the circumstances under which our pastor met and married his beautiful wife. (If not, see here and here and here and here.)

Don and I get to church early in order to help get certain things set up for the service. This is why, this past Sunday, we were inside the sanctuary when our pastor, his wife, and their toddler son arrived.

The moment – the moment! – this little boy came inside the church doors, he brought joy and smiles with him.

The boy (I'll call him "G") is like the church mascot. Everyone loves him. He knows everyone by name, he bestows hugs and affection freely, he giggles and laughs. He is a little ray of sunshine.

Don and I share a pew with Mrs. Pastor and G, in part so I can help corral the squirrely toddler while his daddy is conducting the service, but honestly it's not a hard task. This child is extraordinarily well behaved, thanks to both his innate sweet nature and his parents' proper discipline. It also helps that he has a selection of snacks and toys in the pew with him.

Mrs. Pastor is expecting their second son in October, and we're so happy for them. Some people are just wonderful parents, y'know? Soon they'll have two little rays of sunshine.

In the throes of harvesting blueberries

I am deep in the throes of harvesting blueberries.

These blueberry bushes have become a serious summer commitment. Last year, if you recall, we harvested upwards of 92.5 lbs. of fruit.

Whether this year's tally will exceed that remains to be seen, but certainly we have no shortage of unripe berries at the moment.

Not all the bushes ripen at the same time. They seem to ripen from left to right across the stand. At first (toward the end of June), just two or three bushes showed ripe fruit, with the rest of the berries remaining green and hard.

For the first few picks, I'd harvest maybe a pound or a pound and a half.

That was then. This is now. At this point, all the bushes are ripening heavily. I pick about every three days. This morning I spent four hours picking and came away with a total of seven pounds.

On days I pick, I start early (to try and beat the heat). I begin by putting up our old craft-booth umbrella as movable shade. This umbrella, which we've stored unused for decades, has proven to be worth its weight in gold since the blueberries have come into such heavy production. Not only is it easier to determine ripe from almost-ripe fruit under shady conditions, but clearly the shade ratchets up my comfort level while working in the bushes.

While picking for four hours at a stretch may seem tedious, I remind myself that there are any number of people who would be happy to spend a few hours in a blueberry patch.

This is what seven pounds of blueberries looks like.

I brought the newly picked berries into the house, where I'll let them sit for about three days at room temperature, which helps sweeten the fruit. Meanwhile, it was time to sort and clean the five pounds of berries I picked three days ago, which have been sitting on the kitchen table.

I sort berries on a dishtowel. It's helpful to fold the edge of the towel under once or twice to form a small barrier, which keeps berries from rolling off.

This is my little sorting station: Unsorted berries on the right, sorted berries in the middle, debris on the left.

There can be quite a difference in fruit size, depending on what variety the berries are.

This is what I'm sorting out: Blossom ends, stems, and unripe fruit. I also pull out any berries that are withered or overly squishy-ripe.

From the bowl with five pounds of berries, this is the resulting debris.

To date, I've harvested about 28 lbs. of blueberries. If we're on track to match last year's harvest, that means I'm not quite at the one-third mark. A blue blessing indeed.

My obsession with mayonnaise jugs

I was making one of my favorite summer recipes the other day (broccoli-onion salad) which calls for, among other things, a mayonnaise-based dressing. During this process, I emptied our current mayo jug and had to open another.

To back up, I buy mayonnaise in gallon jugs about once a year when I go into the city for bulk shopping. Don's a sandwich guy, so I've bought mayo like this for decades, usually from Chef's Store.

And I always buy Kraft brand. Not because I'm a Kraft fan – I'm not even remotely a fan of Kraft – but because I'm obsessed with the one-gallon plastic jugs the mayo comes in.

Decades ago, when I first bought mayo in a gallon jug, I remember being reluctant to discard the empty container because it was so sturdy and seemed so useful. Ah, I was a sweet summer child back then. I had no idea how ubiquitous these jugs would become in my future life.

Over the years I have saved every single mayo jug as the contents get used up, and every single empty jug gets pressed into service. Some of these jugs are upwards of 30 years old and are still as good as new.

With a newly emptied jug, first I soak it in warm water for half an hour or so (rotating it once in a while) so the label loosens. The label comes off easily after soaking.

After the label is removed, I give the jug (and its lid) a good scrubbing inside and out, and it's good to go.

Right now, since I'm in full dairy mode, these jugs hold milk and get cleaned frequently. Often I upend them on racks over a towel when I have a bunch to dry.

At one point many years ago, I had so many jugs filled with dry staples (whole wheat flour, oatmeal, raisins, brown sugar, tea, etc.) that my pantry was overcrowded with them. So about ten years ago, Don made me a custom shelving unit that holds 30 jugs (five across, two deep, three high), and I've used it ever since.

I have jugs of milk in the dairy fridge.

I have jugs in the pantry. I have jugs in the barn. I have jugs filled with emergency water. I have jugs in the freezer filled with coffee or other loose staples. I have jugs everywhere. If I have any empty jugs, I put them in the barn until they're needed. Almost invariably, they'll be needed within a matter of weeks.

I've never even tried to count how many jugs we have in circulation, but I'm guessing there are upwards of a hundred or so. I can think of only one jug that broke, and that was because it froze. I had filled it with water and it had been tipped over on its side during some bitterly cold weather. The water froze, and as the ice expanded, it broke the plastic siding. And that, literally, is just about the only jug I've ever lost.

And let me tell you, I beat the tar out of these things. But they take a lickin' and keep on tickin'. They're some of the toughest and most useful things imaginable ... and they have a handy carrying handle to boot.

So yeah, you might say I'm a wee bit obsessed with mayonnaise jugs.

Learning something new every day

Older Daughter described how she went out to her car the other day to drive to work. It was very early in the morning (maybe 5 am), and she was startled when something scurried away from her in the parking lot. She said it was about 2.5 inches long and looked like a large spider with huge front legs. She managed to snatch a photo.

I asked if it was a scorpion (this is before she sent the photo), and she said no. She said it was a camel spider.

"A camel spider!" I exclaimed. "I thought those were only found in the Middle East!"

It seems not. I looked it up, and by golly they're also found in North America, notably in drier and more desert-y areas.

And, unmistakably, it was a camel spider (also called a whip scorpion). These are arachnids, but not true spiders. Instead they belong to the order Solifugae, and there are many species spanning both the Old and the New Worlds.

Freaky-looking things, aren't they? However they're harmless to humans, can't climb or spin webs, and are beneficial to the ecosystem.

But yeah ... I never knew camel spiders were found in Idaho. Ya learn something new every day.

Milking: The daily schedule

Ever since Maggie's latest calf was born on June 18 (we named the calf Lucy, by the way), milking was a priority.

This goal was far, far easier than last year's rodeo, for two reasons: One, we already had the milking infrastructure in place (calf pen, milking stall, etc.). And two, Maggie is already trained to milk. Picking the morning routine back up was a piece o' cake compared to last year.

It was muscle memory for me as well. I haven't milked since February 26 (before Older Daughter and I went to Italy to visit Younger Daughter), so I had to remember the basic steps and not forget anything. In this respect, muscle memory played a large part.

So join me in my morning routine. This time of year, I'm in the barn sometime between 5 and 6 am.

This is the milking equipment I take out to the barn. On the left is the milk bucket into which I actually squirt the milk. In the center is the holding bucket, into which I routinely dump the fresh milk as I progress. (I'm a big fan of the two-bucket milking system. This way if Maggie kicks over the milk bucket, I haven't lost the entire morning's output.) Notice the black line marked on the center holding bucket; this delineates one gallon. On the right is just a small bowl which I put a towel and some warm water for washing Maggie's udder.

Here's the bowl with the towel and warm water.

I stack everything together and cover it with a plastic cap before going to the barn.

In the barn, I grab a scoop of grain to put in the feed bucket on the other side of the head gate. Maggie looks forward to this morning treat-slash-bribe. (Never underestimate the power of grain to convince a cow to do something.)

This is the layout of the calf pen and milking stall Don built last year. The main pen is where I sit on a crate to milk. This arrangement has worked superbly.

Maggie is now in the milking stall, eating her grain. On the right is the crate I sit on while milking.

The head gate has an arm that swings closed, which locks in place with a pin tied to a string. Maggie cannot pull her head out until I remove the pin and allow the arm to swing open.

Here's little Lucy, waiting for me to finish up so she can have her breakfast.

On the shelf in the main pen, I keep a bucket of sawdust (on the left) for the times Maggie urinates in the milking stall (it absorbs the liquid almost instantly), and the crate on which I sit. On top the crate is the leg-tie I use to secure one of Maggie's back legs.

I don't care how well-trained a cow is; it's imperative to tie the near leg to a post so she won't kick. Maggie doesn't kick from viciousness; she might kick if a fly is annoying her or if she's getting impatient. Regardless of the cause, I don't need a black eye from getting kicked by a cow. (Ask me how I know.)

Once Maggie is confined, I wash the udder and teats with the warm water. Most of the time her udder is fairly clean, but washing will also remove bits of straw, etc.

After this, I milk. For obvious reasons, it's hard to take photos as I milk, but it actually goes rather rapidly. I usually just milk out a gallon, no more, so there is plenty left over for the baby. Not counting the lead-up and clean-up afterward, the actual milking itself usually takes only fifteen minutes or less.

Interestingly, we had something of a glitch in the otherwise smooth milking season; namely, Maggie's yearling heifer calf Stormy. This young lady is half Angus and is actually slightly bigger than her mother at this point ... but she's still a baby at heart, and quickly learned Maggie has milk again. The thing about Jerseys is they're a soft touch when it comes to milk – we call them the Universal Donors – and they seldom turn away any bovine who wants access.

A couple of mornings in a row, Maggie had been draiued dry by this greedy girl, and I didn't want to take any milk for myself lest Lucy not get any. After some discussion, Don and I started closing Maggie into the barn by herself at night, and locking Stormy (and Romeo, our young steer) outside.

This makes for much easier milking in the morning since I can leave the milking stall gates open for extra elbow room and not be bothered by other animals. After I finish milking Maggie, I release Lucy.

I cover the milk and put it out of the way, then putter around the barn, cleaning up, while the calf gets her breakfast. This way she's not competing with Stormy.

I open the barn doors, and naturally Stormy dives for her mama.

I'm not too worried about Stormy's milk consumption. I suspect it's just a phase. Maggie is producing plenty at the moment, the calf is getting all she needs, and Maggie is getting plenty to eat. In fact, for the last two mornings, Stormy didn't go for the udder at all. I suspect her sudden interest in nursing might be a "regression" situation, similar to how a human toddler suddenly wants to breastfeed again when a new sibling is born. We'll see how this pans out.

When I've finished cleaning the barn...

...I open the gate to the pasture to release the animals, then I'm free to return to the house.

Back in the kitchen, I clean the milk bucket and the bowl with the udder cloth in it (the cloth goes in the laundry basket), and upend them to dry. Then I fit a small strainer over the gallon-sized jugs I use for holding the milk, line the strainer with a cloth, and pour the milk from the holding bucket through the cloth to strain the milk.

I cap the milk, date it, and store it in the dairy fridge (a dedicated beverage refrigerator) set at 35F.

Then I clean the holding bucket and upend it to dry with the others.

The last thing I do is put the straining cloth in some water and boil it to sterilize it.

This all sounds like it takes hours, but honestly from the time I leave the house to go to the barn to the time I finish straining the milk and cleaning the buckets is usually just half an hour or so.

So that's my morning routine.