What is this monstrosity, you ask? Why, it's a Waring Ice Cream Parlor, circa god-only-knows -when, and I couldn't be more excited.
An ice cream maker has always been on my list of to-get kitchen appliances, but not a priority due to the space constraints in my, um, cozy kitchen. But when my mother told me, "You know, I have your grandparents' old ice cream maker down in the basement, and I'm never going to use it - do you want it?" --how could I say no? (My boyfriend is torn about this new development, being simultaneously excited by the prospect of ice cream on-demand, but already fretting about where we're going to put the damn thing).
One of my favorite childhood memories is making ice cream with my grandfather. He had a fantastic wooden hand-cranked ice cream maker that he would always bring to our family 4th of July gathering. We would smash up ice in a burlap sack with a hammer, and then pour it along with a ton of rock salt into the machine. Into the canister would go the cream and vanilla, and after we cranked the machine for what seemed like hours, we were rewarded by a bowl of very soft, very delicious vanilla ice cream.
I'm pleased that I now have access to the pleasures of homemade ice cream without all the manual labor. The Waring is of the old-fashioned variety of ice cream maker, with the ice and the salt and a motor so loud it sounds like you're running a leafblower in your kitchen. Yes, I know that I could have easily bought a newer, possibly better ice cream maker for about the same amount of money as it cost my mom to ship it to me, but frankly that would have been far too logical.
And now, it's time to make some ice cream. This could be the beginning of a very dangerous friendship...