Monday, September 5, 2011

The Chooks are A-Callin'

The Garbageman, who refuses to eat eggs unless they no longer look like eggs, returned from the supermarket a few days ago with a dozen eggs to add to the dozen we already had in the fridge. Realising his double-up, he put me under firm instructions to use them up lest they go to waste. So there have been a few poached eggy mornings, some boiled eggy lunches, a Father's Day boeuf bourguignon pie brushed liberally in an eggy egg wash. Even, dare I say, a first attempt at creme brulee over the weekend (yum!). And last night, as a special treat for dad, there was going to be homemade chocolate ice-cream.

Three egg yolks mixed with 100g sugar. A cup and a half of milk heated with 200g of dark chocolate and a splash of vanilla. The whole lot mixed together with a cup of cream, then cooled and finally churned in the ice-cream machine.

Silly ice-cream machine. It made us a lovely cold chocolate custard, and then decided it's work was done for the day. No ice-cream for us.

Today, however, thanks to an overnight stay in the deep freeze, it had turned into a wonderful, velvety, rich, chocolately, scrumdiddlyumptious thing as good, if not better, than the best chocolate gelato I've eaten up the road on Norton Street. How easy was that?

I imagine this is how hard my life will be when I finally get the chickens I've been dreaming about. So many eggs! Oh, what to do??? Might have to make another batch of ice-cream...

(Task for tomorrow - using up the eggwhites...)

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