Archives for posts with tag: homemade ice cream

~kitty in a bowl~

~crisp fall weekend day on a boat~

~yummy creative non-pasta dinner~

~cute Theyskens Theory skirt to be added to my closet soon~

~the cutest sad puppy I’ve ever seen~

~homemade cookies & cream ice cream!~

On Saturday I had my CSA workshift at Garden of Eve.  As a parting gift they told me to grab whatever I wanted.  I went straight for the ground cherries as I had been eyeing them the whole 2 hrs I was there!

So I grabbed a pint, passed by the Ronnybrook stand for heavy cream, and bolted home! Yay ice cream!

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Have you heard of Arethusa Farm? No? You’re missing out.  It’s Manolo Blahnik milk!

Arethusa Farm is in Litchfield, CT near my parents’ weekend home (yes, I know how obnoxious that sounds. No, I can’t think of any other way to say it – deal).  We’ve been buying their milk for years – its so delicious… typical farm milk really – actually, award winning farm milk!

Anyway, soon after we started buying their milk we discovered the farm is actually owned by the CEO & VP of Manolo Blahnik.  I found it hysterical & totally random but they clearly love their new hobby.  Their cows win all sorts of shows and they’ve recently expanded to making cheese & ice cream.  Arethusa opened up a shop, which also includes space for their production, this summer in the old Bantam fire house. So guess what I did this weekend when I went to CT??

Went to visit of course! And buy ice cream, and cheese, and milk, and try everything! So yummy

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For our Pulled Pork BBQ I had to, of course, make some ice cream… I really really wanted to make something minty alas, our mint has not exactly been thriving.

So insistent on making some herbal ice cream (and with a lil push from Jj) I decided to try some pineapple sage ice cream.  Amazingly, I found a recipe for it online but it called for lemon.  Another ingredient I didn’t have… And in my herbal spirit I thought “why not use lemon thyme?!” And that’s what I did.

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Cheesy title I know… but as a wee one, Poppa (my gramps) would take me to buy ice cream after church but would refuse to give it to me unless I said “I scream for ice cream!”.  Of course I was always mortified & said it rather reluctantly, but if it wasn’t for that I probably wouldn’t really remember my Sunday outings as a 5 yr old.

To the point: It’s finally ice cream season! And time to dust off the ice cream maker!

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