So, if I don’t get inspired to blog here at BlogHer, I probably never will. Hmm…
for my Saturday delivery.
And they are amazing. Sort of creamy, and deep yellow/orange, and uneven in size and color. Some were brown, others white. The chickens, instead of eating corn, eat insects and Isn’t it fascinating how the imperfect-appearing foodstuffs — with uneven sizes and flawed skins — yield the most fully-realized flavors.
When you’re a beginner ice cream maker — we got a machine this month — you can spend a lot of time thinking about what makes ice cream quintessentially ice-creamy. Is it the flavor? the sweetness? the milky-mouthfeel? Whatever it is, the Salted Butter Caramel Ice Cream I made this past weekend had it in spades. (I think it’s all about texture.)
It doesn’t take that much to get my (almost) two-year-old son excited, but this created something beyond excitement. He literally jumped up and down and squealed when he saw this ice cream coming to the table.
Before beginning the fairly lengthy process of making it, I wondered whether it was, perhaps, too exotic. After all, its very name contained both salt and caramel, and the recipe called for fleur de sel. Would its salty-sweetness be too much? Would it alienate the ice cream traditionalists in the family? In a word, no. It was transcendent, and beautiful. And now it’s all gone.
(Recipe is at the link above. Heck, I’ll link again. It was that good.)