Remember these black jewels we picked in Michigan last week? Well, we had wanted to turn them into something cold and delicious, but did not have enough time while we were up there. So, we took them home, one state south, and yesterday was the day for sorbet-making.
One of the reasons that I married my husband is that if we were given a choice, we tend to go with the old-fashioned way for most things. Almost always. One day when I came home from running errands without the rest of the family, they all had giddiness about them. All three of them. Should we tell Mommy what we got? He said to the kids... We had just gotten the chooks, and the coop to go with them. We also acquired a wheel barrow for our little backyard farm. I was hoping that they had not set up a composting toilet without a little bit of consultation.
We got an ice cream maker!! Yelled the kids. The old-fashioned kind!! They added. Oh phew. I can live with that, I thought.
When it arrived, my husband might have as well been a kid on Christmas day. The three of them attempted at the most basic of all: vanilla ice cream. We had Snowville cream and milk on hand, and so, they cranked and cranked. And 30 minutes later, we tasted the labor of love. It was not half bad.
In fact, it was good. It was not quite Jeni's - good...yet. But it was better than store-bought for sure. They went on to making more flavors...and this last, hand-picked wild black raspberry sorbet. I think it's the best one yet!
This is the recipe they used, from our trusted magazine friend Saveur.
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