I like my ice cream how I like my men: sweet and corny and mostly white. This is corn ice cream in the making.
I’ve discovered there are three basic reactions to the phrase ‘sweet corn ice cream’:
1) Furrowed brow, wrinkled nose; maybe a soft ewww. These guys would’ve had the same reaction to fancy salt or ‘medium-rare’.
2) Raised eyebrows, folded arms; curious disbelief. Half of these folks remained unconvinced, the other half wanted the recipe.
3) The All-Knowing Foodie Smirk; plus a few “Oh, everyone’s doing that right now” and “How outré!” Most of these people are Lucky Peach readers who’ve stayed ahead on food trends, but using the word outré without laughing yourself silly is really outré, that’s all I’m saying.
I didn’t know this was the trendy in-thing to do when I began this ice cream adventure, but I probably should have since it was recommended by my cheftastic brother. “Seriously, corn ice cream is really freaking good,” he said. I raised my eyebrows, folded my arms, and said AHEM, WOT. Thus the ice cream de maize was born.
(He also spat out “grapefruit peppercorn sorbet,” but I heartily ignored that. Too outré.)
Two things: Use only the freshest corn (we got ours at the West Seattle Farmer’s Market and used it that same day), and do not start this endeavor at 10pm like Yours Truly. We cannot repair holes in the spacetime fabric like Time Bandits, unfortunately. You’ll have to set late-night alarms that will anger you beyond words, and then it’s Crazy Bitch Corn Ice Cream, which just doesn’t taste as good.
Two more things: I didn’t take an After picture but it looked like this, minus the cute bowls, hazelnuts, and excellent lighting. And for a great recipe, use this one. I liked the absence of eggs and the incredibly rich flavor.
One more thing: Corn!
Top ice cream with sweet corn kernels and Maldon sea salt. Keep eyes closed, mind open. This is ice cream heroin. It spreads through your veins at a languid pace and you think the long summer days will go on forever. But the joke’s on you because you live in Seattle; summer is four days in August. It will end before you can dig those Teva’s out of the hall closet.
At least you have this summery ice cream. It is both weird and wondrous.