THE LAST STRAW-BERRY

CHURNED: Cream, milk, sugar, strawberries, ginger, sesame seeds, egg yolks

STORY: I was inspired by a dessert I had in San Sebastian. But, whoops! Overcooked the base.

RESULT: Hard as a rock. Edible as a rock.

STATUS: The fact there's no photo should say it all.

SUNF-LOWERED EXPECTATIONS

CHURNED: Chocolate, chocolate-covered sunflower seeds, cream, milk, sugar, egg yolks

STORY: The question, of course, is: Which expectations are being lowered?

Do I refer to the moment when the quest for a “dream job” turns into the quest for “a job”?

Or, to the acceptance that One Show pencils are not in one’s immediate future? But a regular salary is? (A trade-off which raises some expectations?)

Then again, what if I mean your expectations? To see a new flavor every single week on this blog? With full-time employment, I barely have time to write sentence

fragments worthy of setting in large type. 

Let alone to hang out with Joe Cool.

The one expectation that’s not being lowered: this flavor. Crispy, nutty sunflower seeds, in dark chocolate ice cream. Mmmmm, mmmmm. It’s everything you’d want it to be.

RESULT: Like a ray of sunshine on your tastebuds.

STATUS: Half gone already. But keep your hopes up!

SENT FROM MY BLACKBERRY

CHURNED: Blackberries, cream, milk, sugar, lemon juice, egg yolks.

STORY: This week brings an especially special flavor. My wonderful friends from Brooklyn Farm, who have cultivated their backyard to Playmobil perfection, provided me with a batch of juicy, home-grown blackberries.

Straight from fertile Brooklyn soil.

I did a little macerating, then transformed them into delicious ice cream. Which we enjoyed that very night on the farm, along with their amazing homemade poundcake.

RESULT: Brooklyn locavore bliss.

STATUS: Seconds were served. Plates were licked. Eaten.

CAN I HAVE A JOB, PEAS?

CHURNED: Fresh green peas, cream, milk, sugar, egg yolks, mint leaves.

STORY: I was inspired by a delightful pea and mint soup. How did this not occur to me earlier? Take cold soup. Make it much colder and much, much fattier. Mmmmmmm.

To make things even delicious-er, my weakling food processor couldn’t puree the peas. Which left pleasantly snappy pea chunks throughout.

Believe me, this flavor’s a winner. Don’t miss your chance to try it, or you’ll be kicking yourself later, 

with those knife shoes James Bond villains wear.

RESULT: The post-peach-debacle comeback.

STATUS: Plenty of green goodness to go around.

ALSO: Improbably, my Churnin’ has led to real, full-time Earnin’! (Thanks, Peanut Butter & Bacon.) But making ice cream’s too fun to quit. So worry not. The blog continues.

4^th OF JULY NOTE

Taking a patriotic week off. 

FROM PEACH ACCORDING TO HIS ABILITIES, 

TO PEACH ACCORDING TO HIS NEEDS

CHURNED: Buttermilk, fresh peaches, lemon juice, cream, brown sugar.

STORY: Here, I must accuse the Friendship All Natural Buttermilk Company of causing my first official flavor failure. Yes, I could blame myself for buying “light” buttermilk. 

But on my blog, why should it be my fault?

Friendship surely knew their “light” product would lack the necessary milkfat to make a proper batch of ice cream. Resulting in a frosty, fluffy misfire.

Now, I’m sad. Joe Cool is sad. Ice cream lovers who wanted to give me lucrative employment, but will have to wait another week, are very sad indeed.

RESULT: A waste of really good peaches.

STATUS: Not eaten now. Not eaten ever.

MOJITO, MO' PROBLEMS

CHURNED: Lime juice, mint, sugar, water, rum.

STORY: On a weekend this hot, you have to get out of the city. 
So I went to my summer home. In Tipsyville. 
For my first-ever sorbet, I squeezed six limes - a surprisingly vigorous workout - and boiled down about a cup of fresh lime leaves. 

I was worried I'd miss the rich cream that's in my other flavors. But as happens so often in the freelance life, rum makes a fine substitute. Did I mix it too strong? Let's find out together.

RESULT: Bottoms up!
STATUS: Happy hour's already almost over. Eaten.

BRINGIN’-HOME-THE-BACON & PEANUT BUTTER

CHURNED: Cream, milk, bacon, peanut butter, brown sugar, sugar, egg yolks, vanilla extract, cinnamon.

STORY: Does bacon belong in ice cream? Just thinking about this salty-sweet combination made my brain explode. This is why Joe Cool exists.

To create it, I first had to do something I never dreamed possible: candy bacon. Yes, let’s dwell on that. I candied bacon.

I took the word “candy,” used it in verb form, and applied it to bacon.

How? I trimmed bacon slices, coated them in brown sugar, then baked them until caramelized. A caution to my readers: please only try this if you want your home to smell like the upstairs of heaven for three days.

Meanwhile, I made a peanut butter custard base, and ran it through Joe Cool, adding chopped bacon pieces at the last moment. Let the mind detonations begin.

RESULT: Elvis should have lived to die from this instead.

STATUS: Too savory to eat too fast. Eaten.

TWO-YEARS-WITHOUT-A-RAISE RASPBERRY

CHURNED: Raspberries, cream, milk, sugar, egg yolks.

STORY: Raspberries are at peak ripeness right now. Tart, sweet, and juicy. There's no better time to make this flavor.

First, I macerated my berries. (You frequent macerators know what I'm talking about). Then I mashed them through a strainer, to remove the seeds.
Raspberry seeds in ice cream are like advertising people at a party - a few make it lively, too many make it insufferable. 
Tossing a handful of whole berries into Joe Cool at the end created the perfect amount of crunch.

RESULT: Very, very pink. 
STATUS: Ripe for the picking. Eaten.

HIRING-FREEZE BLEU CHEESE

CHURNED: Bleu cheese, cream, milk, sugar, egg yolks.

STORY: I created this flavor for a friend's "Blue" themed birthday party. (As in, the color. Not as in, adult content.) 

I picked up a wedge of sweet bleu cheese from Stinky, and melted half of it into my custard base. Then I melted the other half for good, moldy measure. And into Joe Cool it went.

Responses ranged from "that's amazing" to "hey, not bad" to "uggggghhllh." I'd say it's the sophisticated topping that apple pie never knew it needed. 
Like the monocle that classes up your t-shirt.

RESULT: Polarizing.
STATUS: Eaten (if not totally finished) by partygoers.

WELCOME
I live in Brooklyn. A place where everyone makes their own pickles, cupcakes, chocolate, kimchee, beer, soda syrups, and hot dog casings. So making my own favorite food seemed like an inevitable project. The advantages were clear: Making ice cream's pretty easy. Eating it is very, very easy.

I'll whip up one batch a week, tell you what I put into the mix, and how it turned out. 

That's the Churn.
Here's the Earn: 
I'll never become the next Ben or Jerry. But since I already quit my day job, why can't ice cream help me find a new one? Anyone who brings me in for an interview, will get a taste of my latest flavor. (It won't melt on the way, because I have a cooler. A red one.) To be sure there's plenty left for you, don't wait to get in touch!