I scream, You scream

Here in the frozen east, there is this phenomenon that occurs every single time the weather folks call for snow.  We, on the homefront, call this great expedition the "Slush Rush".  In short, it's when the responsible, ready set hustle to the grocer to snap up milk, bread, eggs and so forth before the first of the flakes lay.

They are a very practical lot, these people.  They are likely the same people out shoveling their drives as the snow falls.  I imagine their snow boots, lined up in gray black formation by the heater, their gloves and mittens at attention drying fast.  Not so, in the house of Stink. 

We do not hold with such nonsense.

We pull on our woolies, mismatched and fuzzy; our colorful rainbow boots before we go out, and throw them all into colorful heaps of wet stripes and dots when we come in.

We sled down the lane frozen and white.

We trudge across the acres hunting the best hill, and ride squealing down the other side.

And we, clever fellows that we are, stock our larder in advance for our own sort of snowy staple.

Sweetened condensed milk, sugar, vanilla (or any other sort of flavoring), and the fixin's (chips of chocolate and butterscotch, almonds or walnuts and maple syrup if you like it).  It does help to have a bit of milk on hand, but you only need a splash, and could do without in a pinch.

These, you see, are the ingredients for Snow Cream.  You use them in heedless abandon, without measuring cup or spoon; you use them to taste. 

Now before you cooking folk get all frustrated with me, just try it out.  Gather a heap of snow, funnel a hole in the top to pour in the liquid ingredients.  Add in a cup or so of sugar and then the rest and mix mix mix until your little heart is content.  ( A couple of side notes:  only use freshly fallen snow - and follow the Zappa rule (avoid the yellow snow);  you get a creamier texture by using an electric mixer and heavy cream rather than milk; if wearing rainbow mittens does not appease your color muse, throw in some food coloring for a artful cream; Add in toppings - a body cannot live on snow cream alone.)

Thanks to my sister-in-law Daphne and her father Ed who introduced us to snow cream so many years ago.  

Comments

[emily]

oh yum!!! i miss snow ice cream . . . it just doesn't snow enough in new orleans!! i'm a missouri girl . . . so we made our fair share growing up! (i definitely don't mind the warmer temps here in the deep south though!)