Ice Cream for Dinner

Some days diets and nutrition are just thrown out the window. When you are young, single, and childless it is pretty damn easy to make a dinner of nachos and beer, or perhaps some chips and dip in front of wrestling on TV (been there). Having kids, though, makes nights like those so much more difficult, yet so necessary.

Gone are the days of pizza on the couch or a bowl of cereal for dinner. I would like to blame an irrational desire to promote nutrition and proper dinner etiquette, but I have to blame The Monster. We tried, more than once, to make it a big treat to have dinner at the coffee table in front of a hockey game or Le Tour de France.  No dice, that kid insists on eating dinner together at the dining room table.  We're lucky she doesn't know anything about white tablecloths and candles. Sure, it is our fault for a general insistence on table manners and enforcement of dinnertime rules. But seriously, can't we relax the rules, just a little?

I did discover a good way to do that - don't even mention it's dinner.  Just sit down on the floor at the coffee table, food in hand.  Let them come to you, begging to try your treat.  Then, don't feed them dinner.

That is how we came to have ice cream for dinner the other night.  Hubby was out of town so it was just me and the girls. I'd had a day, just a long, draining day.  And I wanted to try and get a decent picture of this ice cream before 9 pm.  Since the ice cream was all soft (too soft) and I didn't want to freeze it again, I scooped it all in one bowl, parked in front of Le Tour, and we ate ice cream for dinner.  And damn, it felt good.

Strawberry ice cream with a rhubarb swirl.  If one felt so inclined a sprinkling of granola on top would make it the ice cream interpretation of a strawberry rhubarb crisp.  But I wanted smooth, creamy, tangy, and sweet.  And this delivered.

The ice cream was made with the custard base I've developed and quite like - creamy and thick without being eggy. I macerated, then pureed strawberries. Then added a swirl of stewed rhubarb before it was placed in the freezer.  

Just a note on the rhubarb.  The picture below shows two different versions of stewed rhubarb, made exactly the same way.  One was with pretty much green stalks, one with very red stalks. There was pretty much no difference in taste. The only difference is cosmetic. I saved the brown stuff for a topping for oatmeal and yogurt, and used the pink stuff in the ice cream.

   

Strawberry Ice Cream with a Rhubarb Swirl

Makes about 5-6 cups

2 cups half and half cream

1 cup heavy (whipping) cream

1 cup milk

1/2 a vanilla bean, split

3 egg yolks

2 cups cleaned, hulled strawberries

1 cup sugar, divided

1 cup chopped rhubarb

2 tablespoons brown sugar

1 tablespoon water

Splash of vodka

1. Combine creams, milk, vanilla bean, and 1/2 cup sugar in a heavy saucepan.  Heat while stirring, but do not scald or boil.  Whip egg yolks in small bowl.  Slowly pour 1/2 cup of warm cream/milk mixture into eggs, whisking constantly.  Pour eggs/cream/milk mixture back into the remaining cream/milk mixture.  Heat, stirring constantly until custard is thick enough to coat the back of a spoon (5-10 minutes).  Remove from heat, pour through a sieve into a clean bowl, cover with plastic wrap directly on the surface of the custard, and refrigerate for 4 hours or overnight.

2.  While custard is cooling slice the strawberries and macerate in the remaining 1/2 cup of sugar.  Just before you want to make the ice cream blitz the strawberries with a food processor of mash well with a fork.

3. Make your stewed rhubarb.  Combine rhubarb, brown sugar, and water in a small saucepan. Set on medium heat to cook.  Stir occasionally while the mixture cooks down.  After a few minutes the rhubarb will be almost broken down and the sauce will be thick.  Remove from heat and cool completely.  Add a splash of vodka just before adding to the ice cream. 

4.  Stir the strawberries into the cooled custard and make ice cream according to your ice cream maker's instructions.

5. When your ice cream is done, place half in a container for the freezer.  Dollop half of the cooled rhubarb over the ice cream.  Scoop over the remaining ice cream, top with dollops of the remaining rhubarb.  Quickly run a knife through the ice cream to swirl the rhubarb.  Place some plastic wrap directly on the surface of the ice cream and freeze until firm. 

No More Whining

Okay, there has been far too much whining here of late.  I could continue on - life's just beating me down these days - but it is time to move on.  Seriously, I need a kick in the butt and some perspective.  Don't let me whine anymore.

Instead I will share some good news and some quilt photos.  Other than the gates, our fence is done!  We can also now run around and play on the new grass.  And speaking of grass, I finished my grass inspired quilt.

I should clarify that this quilt is more inspired by the intended patio in our newly landscaped yard.  The patio is still a month or so away from being completed.  Maybe that's why I wanted to do this quilt - letting my imagination run wild while I stare out the back window.  Or compensate for the lack of patio?  Oops, I said no more whining.

The top is made entirely from scraps.  Okay, maybe the whites technically qualify as stash, not scraps.  But they weren't big pieces.  All the greens do come from the scrap pile.

The white squares are 12.5 inches and the pieced sashing in 4.5 inches wide.  Those are unfinished numbers.  I made the sashing pieces by trimming my green scraps - those that were big enough - to about 13.5 inch strips.  After dividing them into dark/medium and light piles I sewed two strips together.  I then trimmed them, often on an angle, to 12.5 by 4.5 strips.  The cornerstone pieces were made from smaller scraps, sewn together into a simple four patch and trimmed down.

Initially I thought this would be a great picnic quilt, but Smilosaurus is way too messy for that this year.  The quilting will be a challenge - at least to me.  This is where the grass inspiration will really come in.  Stay tuned.

And speaking of perspective, I wanted to share with you some good news.  Do you remember this quilt?  My colleague and old boss finally got his new heart on Friday.  We heard yesterday that he is already recovering quite well.  So when I'm whining about the state of my house and busyness of life, remind me that heart matters more.

PS  This last pic includes fabrics from that Inspired Improvisation quilt - and one of the many aphids hanging around these days.

Farm in the Family

Yes, that is a cemetery there. The Alvena Cemetary, to be exact. My great uncle passed away last week so we were in Saskatchewan to say goodbye. It was a gathering of your typical giant Ukrainian family - my uncle left 10 children, 24 grandchildren, and currently 28 great grandchildren.  That is nothing to say of the fact that he was one of five kids with families of their own. 

Uncle Bernard was a quiet, strong man.  Humble and hardworking, I always remember him with open arms, a quiet laugh, and the ability to observe and appreciate all that happened around him.  He loved horses, his family, and he loved his farm.  While I was sad that the girls never got to meet the man, I was deeply proud to take them and Hubby to meet his farm.  I can hardly remember him off the farm, even though I saw him at hall parties and wedding receptions.  Uncle Bernard's farm was Uncle Bernard.

 
By the time I was old enough to have strong memories of the place it wasn't always somewhere I wanted to go. But as long as we got to hang out with our cousins, go into the fields, or feed the kittens in the abandoned chicken coop we city kids were happy.  Uncle Bernard was usually working during our visits.  He, or our older cousins, would sometimes take us into the swather or combine if it was harvest.  One time they let me drive the pick-up.  It didn't matter that I couldn't see over the dash, the purpose of our drive was to scare the ducks out of the field.

As we wandered around the old farm, buildings old and unused but the grounds, garden, and yard perpetually neat (this is the cleanest, most organized family farm ever), my brother and I reminisced about our visits there.  And suddenly the whining we did as children - well, me mostly - all went away. Those pathetic moments were replaced with pride in knowing that this farm is part of where we came from. 

While my brother led a number of the kids - his, mine, and some other city cousins - on a tour of the buildings and machinery I followed and admired his knowledge and memories. During the tour The Monster was a non-stop question.  She wanted to know what every building housed, what each machine did, how everything worked, and just what it was all for. 

The farm is a working grain farm - wheat, rye, barley, peas. At one point it was a truly diverse family farm complete with cows, pigs, chickens, crops, and a garden to make any Baba proud. The barns, coops, and sheds are mostly empty now. Their usefulness replaced with metal quonsets and granaries, some heavy duty machinery, and the ever present farm dog, Rex.

The natural curiosity of a three-year old outweighed any potential boredom. While Smilosaurus busied herself with transporting gravel from one spot to another, The Monster followed my brother and learned everything she could about grain farming. 

Boy did she learn!  It is a little over 7 hours of driving to get from Saskatoon to Calgary.  For the portion of it that she was awake our conversation went something like this:

Monster: What's the combine Mama?

Mama: The combine takes the seed off the grass, puts them in the dump truck, and puts the stalks in a line behind.

Monster: And where does the dump truck go?

Mama: To the granary.

Monster: And then what happens?

Mama: The farmer sells the grain and it goes to make things like flour.  And then we bake with the flour.

Monster: Oh. And what about the other combine?

Mama: It's not a combine, it's a swather.  

Monster: What's a swather do?

Mama: It cuts the grass, like a giant lawnmower.  Then the combine comes and picks it up.

And repeat. And repeat.  And repeat.  Over and over again, for about 5 hours.

She finally had her lightbulb moment in the process during a bathroom break.  With Hubby rudely standing in the ditch I picked a stalk of some wild grass/weed/oats.  We now know that she is a visual learner because as soon as I showed her the grass and demonstrated what the combine and the other combine did something clicked.  Suddenly she was explaining the process to us, Grandma, the nanny the next day, her sister, and anyone else she saw, regardless of whether they wanted to hear or not.

We don't need petting zoos and picnics on our farm visits. The connection is already there for her. The connection to family, the connection to the process, and hopefully, the connection to her food. Uncle Bernard lives on in her, and so many more, because the farm - literally, and in knowledge and memories - lives on.

Guess where we'll be going come September?  

Lazy Days

Yes, I know I've shown this quilt a few times already. But this picture exemplifies our lives these days. The mess, the exhaustion, the unshowered...

I was out of town for a few days last week for work. While away I got the call that my great uncle had passed away. He really was like a second father to my mom and a grandfather (in addition to his own 24 grandchildren!) to us. While I hadn't seen him much as an adult I wanted to be there to say goodbye. So we packed up and headed to Saskatoon and area for a few days. We hung out with the almost never seen giant Ukrainian family, showed Hubby and the girls the farm where Baba grew up, and said our goodbyes.

After 20 hours (total) in the car for two road trips, a holiday, the discovery that our sweet Maple (a.k.a Damn Brown Dog) is incontinent in the poop department, and continued potty training for The Monster we were ourselves literally pooped. While everyone else in the house slept on Sunday morning I busied myself with laundry and a bit of tidying. That's all I could muster.

Somewhere in there I did get a bit of sewing done. Unfortunately, the weather isn't cooperating for me to actually take a picture of anything. The Grass quilt top is done. Oh, and the fence is so close to being done. I can now use a section of it to act as my design wall - once it stops raining.