It all started with this strange whirring sound in the middle of the Fourth of July party. I was catching up with my girlfriends when the sound of a small appliance began to compete with the iPod playlist.
Turns out, my hub had decided in the middle of the party to make homemade vanilla ice cream. Huh ? It was one of those moments where you look at your spouse that you’ve been married to for over a decade and realize perhaps you really don’t know that person at all.
Apparently, he had pulled the never-been-used Krups ice cream maker (so ancient, it’s now discontinued) out of its dusty box the day before and frozen the bowl in anticipation of making ice cream in the middle of the party. That’s just how he rolls.
I confess, I mocked him. “What’s going on here?” Reply: “Obviously, I’m making ice cream. What’s a Fourth of July party without homemade vanilla ice cream?” Perplexed and befuddled was I. But my bewildered smirk gave way to a satisfied grin when I tasted his concoction. He said, “Don’t you remember, we said we would make homemade ice cream this summer?” That’s right, I did say that.
Unfortunately, he’s now created a dangerous monster because I’ve been obsessed all week with my ice cream maker. Oh, it all started so innocently, with plain vanilla.
My vanilla soon morphed into pralines and cream with some caramel sauce and chopped pecans.