December 23, 2012

Chocolate (Dairy-Free) Ice Cream

December 23, 2012/ Kristin Rosenau

I've missed ice cream. It seems like a silly thing to say, but it's true. Growing up, rarely a week passed by where I didn't have a bowl of vanilla ice cream covered with chocolate sauce or a banana split for dessert. I come from an ice cream-loving family, where chocolate syrup is an anchor in the kitchen cupboard. As I grew older, I'd often mix my own blended ice cream coffee shop drinks, enjoying my own twist on a mocha. However, after I discovered I'm lactose intolerant this summer after taking on a month long vegan challenge, I haven't had more than a few spoonfuls of ice cream since.

While the absence of ice cream was easy to handle at first, the cravings have slowly crept up on me until it finally became time to do something about it. I actually put dairy-free chocolate ice cream on my holiday list this year.

A few months ago, I was really struggling with my newly required dairy-free eating habits. I shared my difficulties with you, a mixture of confusion in how to approach eating and lamentations at the loss of my old lifestyle. Looking back, I realize now that I was grieving. Grieving for the loss of milk and cream, for butter and for cheese. I had moments of denial, when I'd order a cheeseburger instead of a hamburger at a restaurant. I was angry and upset at my body, telling anyone who talked about my favorite dairy-filled foods to wash their mouths out with heavy cream. I tried to justify my actions, telling myself the pain I would feel later was absolutely worth that piece of caramelized bread pudding (and, of course, it never was).

While some people can embrace new eating habits with ease, I needed time to sort my feelings out, to let go of the foods I had eaten and loved my entire life. Over the last few months I have been in the process of acceptance, but I finally, finally, feel like I've reached it.

I never knew such feelings could arise out of food.

While some baked goods are effortless to convert to dairy-free, ice cream is one of those sneaky desserts that is difficult to make without its namesake—cream. I've tried several of the dairy-free brands in the stores with disappointing results. With an unpronounceable ingredient list and a texture that resembles marshmallow cream or shaved ice, they leave much to be desired. As is the case when the supermarket fails me, I look to the kitchen and my own ingenuity to make something better than I can find.

Oh, let me tell you, this is exactly what I've been craving.

Chocolate (Dairy-Free) Ice Cream is bright, satisfying, and perfect for those in your life with a milk allergy or intolerance. The richness of the ice cream comes from full-fat coconut milk. Do note, however, that the final product will have a subtle coconut aftertaste which cannot be avoided (but for me, a coconut lover, it was an added bonus). The ice cream isn't too sweet, with a deep chocolate flavor coming from cocoa powder. This ice cream is the real deal—smooth, creamy, and an excellent dairy-free ice cream alternative.

July 12, 2012

Roasted Strawberry Coconut Ice Cream

July 12, 2012/ Kristin Rosenau

Ice cream has many faces. To young children, ice cream is a delight, enchanting both the mind and the mouth. The frozen treat leaves a sticky smudge all over their faces as they attempt to lick the bowl clean. In the heat of a wild summer, ice cream cools down the body during warm afternoons, bringing a smile to anyone who happens to find a towering cone in their hands. Ice cream can also be a comfort food, a friend in moments when the world just isn't in your favor.

During my college years, my friend and I developed a ritual to coping with boy trouble whenever we found ourselves in a wearisome place. The routine always began with a hesitant call on the phone; once the strain of the situation became evident in one of our discordant voices, it was time to take action. The solution for these problems was always the same—ice cream. The grocery store became a fixture in those moments, as we'd wander the frozen food aisle carefully choosing the chilled tonic that would heal our wounds.

In the eve of twilight, we'd walk our heavy souls to a nearby park, with spoons in our back pockets, and dig into the melting cream, eating more than we should have dared. Just as the remaining ice cream would melt into a pool in the bottom of the container, the rush of sorrow and heartbreak and the unfairness of love would come spilling out of one of our hearts. As one bared her soul to the other, the other would open her ears, hoping the simple act of listening would lift just a part of burden the other carried. Some nights we'd find solutions to the problems together, but more often than not the troubles would hang in the air, unsolved and unresolved, as a satisfying answer failed to appear.

When the sugar would gather in our bloodstreams, we'd find ourselves on the park swings, cursing men and love with every pump of our legs. Higher and higher into the air we would fly as the metal chains of the swings began to shake. In those moments, with a belly full of ice cream and a dear friend by our side, the weight of the world would lift an inch off our shoulders for just a moment and we could begin to feel free.

To me, ice cream has always been a healer—a healer of broken hearts, hot summer days, and scraped knees. Ice cream has the uncanny ability to ease the troubles of life and bring lightness to the heaviest of situations. Ice cream, in its own way, is a carrier of happiness. In the chocolate swirls, strawberry chunks, and Neapolitan flavors, there holds a promise of smiles, happy moments, and ice cream smudged faces.

This is why I love ice cream.

Roasted Strawberry Coconut Ice Cream is light and creamy, with bursts of strawberry flavor. Strawberries are sliced, drizzled with balsamic vinegar, and sweetened with a spoonful of sugar before roasting in the oven until the berries are dark and sweet. The ice cream is very simple to assemble (and dairy/egg-free!). The flavors alternate between spoonfuls of smooth coconut and bright strawberries.

May 13, 2012

Chocolate Salted Almond Ice Cream

May 13, 2012/ Kristin Rosenau

The end of the school year has always signified the beginning of summer to me. When I was younger, the school bell ringing for the final time was the first glorious moment of summer. Even as I've grown older, I still wait to hear the toll of an imaginary school bell, letting me know it's time to put down work and go outside. Sometimes I think we all need these little reminders, imaginary or not.

Though the end of the school year is still a couple of weeks away, I find myself daydreaming of summer fun. I wish I could be ten again—young and carefree, with an endless summer stretching out before me.

Summer has always meant a bright sun, green grass, fresh fruit, grilled meat, and ice cream, usually in just that order. Though I do love to eat ice cream in winter, it just tastes better under a hot summer sun. When I was living in Madison, Wisconsin, there was an ice cream shop I passed every day on my walk to and from work. The ice cream was homemade and dirt cheap, luring me in a couple times a week. The only thing more formidable than that dangerously delicious combination was a buy-one-get-one-free coupon (and no one to share it with).

One evening after work, I made the only logical decision and used my coupon, buying two ice cream cones for myself—one for each hand—and made the trek back home. It was a very warm day and, with the sun beating down on my head, the ice cream began melting faster than I anticipated it would.

The ice cream began dripping down the sides of the cones. It would have been a challenge to keep up with one cone; with two, it was impossible. The ice cream melted right off of the cones and onto my hands. As I'd lift the cones to my mouth in a futile attempt to keep up, the ice cream that had pooled in my hands started running down my arms and dripping off my elbows. A trail of melted ice cream began following me on the sidewalk (and I began to regret my irresponsible decision to order two cones at once).

I was a sticky mess. My arms were covered in syrupy, sweet cream and my face must have looked a fright. In these dark ice cream moments, I passed a young child on a bike. After seeing the state I was in (the greed and regret over my two cones evidenced clearly on my arms and in my hands), he shook his head at me, showing obvious disapproval. When I finally made it home, I needed a shower to wipe away the ice cream shame.

The moral of this story is a simple one: if you're going to use a buy-one-get-one-free coupon on yourself, get that ice cream served in a bowl.

Chocolate Salted Almond Ice Cream is delightfully rich in chocolate with chopped roasted, salted almonds scattered throughout. This ice cream is made only with whole milk (not cream), but you'd never guess it for how rich, creamy, and naughty(!) it tastes. The almonds balance out the intensity of the chocolate, keeping the palate from becoming overwhelmed. I had a hard time staying away from this ice cream, stealing spoonfuls during dessert, midnight snacks, and before breakfast.

When you dream about an ice cream as lovely as this, it's only natural to want it first thing in the morning (or is that just me?).