No Churn Vanilla Ice Cream became Berry Cake Ice Cream.
In a mixer pour in a 16 ounce carton of heavy whipping cream. While that’s spinning around, in another bowl combine 1 can of fat free sweetened condensed milk, a pinch of salt and a teaspoon of vanilla. When the cream is whipped, fold one cup into the sweetened condensed milk mixture. Then add that back into the whipped cream, stirring lightly, till well combined. Pour into a bread pan and cover with plastic wrap. Place in the freezer till firm. Serve over warm apple pie or a brownie or your choice, your choice.
My choice off add-ins this time was leftover berry cake from the 4th of July. A strawberry cake mix, baked up with a ribbon of blueberry pie filling in the middle. The cake was sliced and put in the freezer to be eaten later, but I thought adding it to this ice cream recipe would be a cool way to use remaining cake.
Follow above directions and freeze for 3 hours. It will be soft serve then and ready to fold in the cake and blueberry pie filling.
After ice cream has been in the freezer 2 hours, I added in 6 small slices of cake, cut in cubes and 1/2 cup blueberry pie filling
Spoon cake and ice cream mixture into a container, cover with plastic wrap and return to the freezer.
I another couple of hours it will be ready to serve.
Happy Independence Day from #FlowersProper and theexileskitchen.com What are you cooking on the grill this July 4th? I think I’ll let the budding grill master Georgie plan the menu and do all the work.
I bought a new American flag and pole yesterday. My father placed a deep vein of Patiotism in me and my brothers. He traveled all over the world on business trips and those travels made him love our country all the more.
Is your flag flying? Well, go put it out. Proudly.
It’s been busy in the Exile’s Kitchen. Canning green beans, making pickle relish. Arranging buckets of fresh cut flowers. Two gallons of blueberries became two batches of pie filling. And there was some juice left over. From the blueberries. Hummmm. Wonder if I could make Blueberry Jelly, not jam, because I used all the berries to make pie filling?
Something didn’t work out just right, even with two boxes of pectin. I poured it into the jelly jars anyway and sealed them, and processed them. Jelly turned out to be syrup. Made me think of vacations taken as a child where IHOP and Waffle House were always a welcome sight to us weary travelers. What syrup to pick to drizzle over waffles..? Well, since my jelly didn’t set up, I can have homemade IHOP/Waffle House any day of the week without leaving the driveway.
That’s the definition of serendipity, my friends. Getting something equally good or better out of an unexpected turn of events. Wanted jelly, got syrup. I haven’t thought about my once marriage in a long time. Yesterday’s kitchen happenings brought these thoughts to mind. What I thought I wanted at the age of 20 turned out not to be what I got. What I have now I would not trade for anything. Serenity. Peace.
File this one under super easy coffee dunker. And cheap? My yes! Made with flour tortillas, you can make many, many for pennies.
Cut four, 8 inch flour tortillas into six triangles each and place them in a single layer, on a parchment lined cookie sheet. Lightly spritz tortillas with vegetable spray. Dust with cinnamon sugar snd bake till crisp in 350° oven. While they baked, I cut up a handful of Hershey Kisses into small chunks.. I had them on hand, but you could use regular chocolate morsels and skip the chopping. After the cinnamon tortillas have baked, sprinkle the chocolate on top of the hot triangles. The chocolate will melt slightly. I took a butter knife and smeared the kisses chunks around a little.
So good with a cup of afternoon coffee.
This week, I’ve also made two kinds of pickles: Bread and Butter and Spicy Dill. The slide show is of the first batch Bread and Butter. They remind me of my daddy’s sister, Aunt Louise. She was a fantastic cook and had a pantry full of homemade goodness, including Bread and Butter pickles. On a visit to her home in Homer, Louisiana way back in the late 80’s, Aunt Louise gifted me with a jar. They were so good! I guess I make pickles because, yes they’re tasty, but they connect me to fond memories of Aunt Louise.
George decided he would try his hand at cooking out.
Steak and vegetable kabobs and fruit kabobs. His first time manning the little Weber Kettle, he did quite well. We look forward to George expanding his grilling skills.
If you’re wanting to try an artisan soda with a local flair, look for Swamp Pop in your neighborhood grocer. They are made in Lafayette, Louisiana. Their flavors incorporate fruits grown in my native state, such as fig, strawberry, satsuma. Swamp Pop sodas are a refreshing change to your regular cola. Try ’em!
The sun climbed high. Sweat walked down the small of my back, as I worked. Red wing blackbirds trilled; a woodpecker beat a tattoo. The breeze whispered in the corn. Another mess of yellow squash was gathered. It was delightful.
Except for two things. And I know that talking about the weather is the worst thing in writing, but my goodness it’s dry in southwest Mississippi. If you who are reading this are a praying bunch, please lift up a prayer for rain in our part of the world. The corn may be whispering today, but it will soon be crying from a lack of water. Rain, we need rain.
The second thing that marred my mornings peace was the four-wheeler, riding teenager. Up and down the fence row he went. Loudness, covering my idyllic pastoral setting. He tried to coax Marigold to ride with him, but she politely declined and stretched out on the shady porch instead.
The squash was taken to the kitchen, but wasn’t cooked up. I made a flower arrangement out of some, along with the first picked cosmos. The tips of the wisteria are on their second bloom. All were arranged on an antique platter. I call it Geese In the Flower Patch.
Yesterday was a little known holiday -not recognized by bank and post office closures- called National Lost Sock Memorial Day. I heard about it on Supertalk MS. I immediately found an emotional connection to all the mismatched or single socks in the world. I know just how they feel. NLSMD will forever rank up there with that other single awareness holiday: Valentines Day. Ugh!
With an adolescent bloodhound in the house, who has a thing for chewing on socks, the problem of matching them has become a daily chore. They may make it into the washer at the same time: might even make it into the dryer, but she stands at the dryer door, waiting for me to turn away for a second and off she goes with one to hide and chew on, till it’s no longer wearable. (Excuse the run on sentence.)
This morning I once again found myself digging around for two socks that matched. I’ll admit that some mornings I just don’t care and put on whatever comes close.
Now, these two at first glance looked like they matched. Same color and size , but the patterns aren’t alike. Oh, well. To celebrate NLSMD one is suppose to dispose of any single socks lying around or shoved to the back of the dresser drawer. Again, feelings of single awareness collect, like lent from the dryer.
I’ve been divorced now for over two and a half years. Just beginning to think about dipping my toe into the dating pool. But my gosh, it’s been a long time since I’ve done that! How do you start? How do you go about it, in this day and age? It’s scary to think about.
However, I recently met a fella that I found myself thinking that I wouldn’t mind matching and folding his socks. Feeling, oh I don’t know, I hesitate to say domestic. My grandmother’s South Louisiana, East Feliciana accented voice is in my head right now. She would have described him thusly: he’s a tall drink uh wohtah, with a nice smile that reaches his eyes. I describe him as having a voice that I could crawl up in and stay all day; like a tree house built in the top of a big oak limb, looking out over a deep and slow moving river. Yep. He nerded out explaining something to me and I thought, man, please hush! I could cook for a man like that. Something good on all four burners and both ovens.
And we met on Valentine’s Day- ain’t that ironic?!
But he’s two counties away. This single sock is still that. Single. Lyle Lovett is coming to Thalia Mara in August, I would love to have a date to go. But as I said in the two paragraphs up, starting from scratch is paralyzing me.
NLSMD and Valentine’s Day are equal in my book.
I will not throw out my single socks. My tomatoes need tying up and I will just repurpose the unmatched sock collection.
(I promise. This is the last time I write about mayhaws… This year. Simple recipe: 4 cups juice, 1 box Sure-Jell, 2 pat butter, 5 cups sugar)
Mayhaw season is coming to a close. Sigh. Yesterday I shook the tree one more time. I pruned it too. Due to years of neglect, branches have crisscrossed each other. Not a good thing. You want lateral branches on your fruit trees with room for air to get to each branch. The old mayhaw is also covered in lichen, which tells me the tree is in distress and needs to be fertilized. Even still, the old gal produced lots of berries this year. I was able to make three batches of jelly in the last two weeks.
This final gathering was a little slim on mayhaws, but the huckleberries are making. So, I supplemented my pot with the tiny blueberry-like fruit. While picking huckleberries, my eldest son called me.
The conversation went something like this:
“Heeeey! Whatcha you doing?”
“I shook the mayhaw tree one last time, but I don’t think there’s enough to make another pot of jelly, so I’m picking huckleberries to add to them.” I told him.
“Huckleberries? Are you sure that’s what they are?” he questioned.
“Yes, son. I tasted a few last week, when I noticed them making and I haven’t gotten sick. No belly cramps. Not throwing up or running to the bathroom.”
“Oh, okay. Good deal.”
My sons; They have their mama’s back… always looking out for me.
After jelly making, I cleaned house. The afternoon sun slid in through the parlor windows and warmed up the pine floors. It was such a peaceful afternoon. The birds sang all around me, as I repotted day lilies and roses on the side porch.
We almost had a new grandbaby last night. My middle son’s wife was having some pretty intense contractions around 11 p.m. Off to the hospital they went, as I stayed with my sleeping #1 grandson. But the hospital sent her home. So, we’re just sitting on go. Anytime now. I think I’ll nickname my new grandson ‘Huckleberry’.
“Who’s Mandy’s little Huckleberry?” I’ll ask.
“I’m your Huckleberry,” he’ll answer in a sweet toddler voice.
I wonder what his parents will have to say about that?
As I told my eldest, before the rain chased me back to the house and ended our phone call yesterday; I’m having fun. Life is fun again, full again. And there’s always room for more family and friends- at my table, in my house, and in my life!
Today was the first time I’ve made jelly in the Exile’s New Kitchen. Mayhaw Jelly: such a sweet, rosey red. I taste tested with a wheat cracker. Yum!
I’ve got a thing for canning jars. I didn’t need any new jelly jars, but I saw these small, squatty, wide mouth made by Kerr and thought, ‘Oh, why not?’ Plus, a straight-sided, wide mouth jar will make it easier to scrape out every bit of Mayhaw jelly.
Mayhaw Jelly, April 2018, from the Jam Pot at Flowers Proper.