It is time to begin the most important countdown of the year. The countdown
for summer vacations.
Images: If you like any of the pictures on the blog and would like to use those please write to me. I put in hours of work behind each post and would love to share it with you but it would hurt me if use those without my permission.Just ask!
July stands for
summer vacations and vacations mean a lot of happy things for my little
chefling. Grandparents, staying up late, multiple trips to the library,
splashing around in the pool, making presents for everyone, meeting old
friends, movie marathons, endless rounds of dobble and scrabble and eating
icecreams!
Yes, that last
bit is her favourite.
Sometimes
sitting alone in the balcony licking the ice lolly looking at the cars
pass by, sometimes sharing a large bowl with us; three spoons
clanging against each other and sometimes with all her friends; attacking the
ice-cream bar and adorning the good old vanilla and chocolate ice cream with sprinkles.
Ice cream is so
much more than milk and cream and sugar, isn’t it? For me it means
travelling back in time to my childhood.
Growing up, mum
would always make sure we had enough in the freezer. It helped that dad too
wanted it all the time! He still does. My mum’s freezer can put an ice cream
parlour to shame. Such was and is the quantity and variety.
There would
always be the good old vanilla. In May when the markets were loaded with
mangoes, it had to be mango kulfis. Watermelon ice lollies too, a big favourite
with the entire family. She would always add a hint of “roohafza” to make it
sweeter and give it that rose flavor. I still do the same, but like to add some
mint, lime and rock salt to it as well.
I remember the
day, when we got home the ice cream maker that marked the end of the “partially
freeze-whisk and breakup-refreeze” rigmarole era.
This ice cream
maker required a combination of ice and rock salt in a certain predefined ratio.
It had a metallic canister. Once the motor was switched on, you had to keep
lining the canister with both the ice and rock salt. The motor would then turn
the canister. The part time help who came to our house those days would get the
rock salt from a local shop only she knew about.
My sister and I
would make endless rounds to the kitchen to see if more salt was needed and
bring that to my mum’s attention. After the entire operation was over, we would
be given some right away. Right out of the machine; semi frozen and soft.
The ice cream
didn’t last very long which meant the process was repeated every other day. Mum
would also buy cones for us. Ice cream in a cone was what summer vacations were
made up of. Sometimes there would be very little left and mum and dad would say
but hey this is for both of you, we don’t feel like having it today. It never
struck us that they may have wanted it as much as we wanted to. We would start
licking the scoop with mum telling us to keep rotating the cone and keep licking
it from all sides. Then would be the moment when the icecream would began to
melt and make the cone go all soggy and limp. The mad rush to quickly bite into
it would begin. All this while our parents would be watching us with this
crushing joy in their heart for seeing us happy made them happy. Seeing us have
ice cream took them back to their childhood.
Summers also equal
visiting grandparents for Sara and as kids it meant the same for my sister and
me. Early mornings meant laid back breakfasts, climbing the mango trees,
jumping up high in an attempt to reach the grape vine for fresh grapes (grape
leaves too, they taste divine!) and threading the frangipani into garlands
while sitting on the frangipani tree.
Hot and lazy
afternoons were spent looking through old albums that were neatly stacked in my
grandfather’s study. Those albums carried within them millions of stories. The
noise made by the air cooler, the smell of the “khus” he would add to the water
and cold lemonade for company.
Early evenings
meant kulfis! Every evening at 4 p.m. we would start looking out of the tiny
window from our grandparents room; the one that faced the road. Since the noisy
cooler would be on, we didn’t want to take the risk of missing the tring tring
of the kulfi wala. He too was aware that May meant that the grandchildren were
here and each evening without fail he would come and stop at the main gate. He
would be greeted with grand children from all the neighbouring houses queuing
up rather rather impatiently for their kulfis. Two not one. One in each hand
and always the same, malai kulfi. There was both a certain sense of excitement
and comfort in getting the familiar. I miss those days of not having any
variety, sometimes.
In that mayhem
there would always be one child who would accidentally drop her/his kulfi on the
road. Trust me those five minutes are the worst minutes of your life. Ask any
child and she/he will nod in agreement. That kulfi you waited for all day is
now on the dirty road melting into this creamy puddle that you can’t save. That
feeling! Two big fat tears are forming in your eyes, the world has come to an
end and at that moment your grandfather comes around and buys you another one.
Happiness restored. You want to hug him tight. He is your hero.
I miss those
ice cream days. Do you? What are your childhood ice-cream memories?
Sara loves to have
her friends over for ice cream playdates. Once the children have played enough
and are really tired, they all sit down for ice-cream.
There is always
vanilla and dark chocolate. With tons of toppings. Their eyes light up.
Confetti
sprinkles. Chocolate swirls. Marshmallows. Toasted Walnuts. Silvered
pistachios. Dried Cranberries. Dried Papaya. Sweetened Coconut. Dry Mango
Slices and more.
The children
get busy “decorating” their scoops. Soon the ice cream disappears under an
avalanche of sprinkles and fruits.
Then I start
reminding them to eat it before it melts.
Like my mum did.
I go back to
the kitchen and watch them giggling over some stories from school, licking the
ice-cream, dropping some on the floor, wiping off their cream moustaches with
the sleeves of their shirts and I feel this sense of crushing joy in my heart.
Like my mum did.
To set up an Ice
cream bar:
Ingredients:
- Several naughty little children
- Two or three ice-creams of your choice (store bought or I like to follow the recipes of the Ice cream God. With children the basics seem to work each time; vanilla, chocolate and strawberry)
- Nuts for some crunch; walnuts, pistachios, almonds, peanuts, pecans
- Fruits; fresh and/or dry (papayas, mango, coconut, cherries, berries, bananas)
- Cookies, candies, marshmallows
- Sauces if your kids like (chocolate, berries, caramel)
- Ice cream cones or bowls and spoons
- Tons of napkins to wipe their little faces
- Set out everything on the table. Scoop, sprinkle and slurp.
Images: If you like any of the pictures on the blog and would like to use those please write to me. I put in hours of work behind each post and would love to share it with you but it would hurt me if use those without my permission.Just ask!
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