Honey ice cream

The crabapples are near-naked, the remaining fruit ripening to a deep shade of buttercup and left on the tree for hungry birds; huge sheaves of parsley are taking over the back bed, a growth spurt urged on by days of rain and nights that are cool against the skin. There is a house not far from ours, one I pass daily, with a persimmon tree, burnished leaves and impossibly orange orbs of fruit peeking bravely above its high wall. Given the devastation of our summer, I thought autumn would completely pass us by. Wish I had a ladder. No-one’s using the fruit. Criminal, no?

A tour today. One promised some time ago.

Ours is a solid redbrick house, built early last century, its driveway flanked by a soft hedge of lavender, humming with bees, and the outstretched arms of an epic neighbouring banksia. We’re a little tricky to find. The number – a dull brass 23 - is attached to the house not the letterbox, a ruse not of our making yet remarkably in tune with our privacy requirements.

The hallway is dark and cold, the floorboards scratched and worn, but things get brighter as you move toward the back. Light floods the studio and kitchen through large glass panes, drawing you into a warmer, livelier space. Autumn afternoons, all golden light and long shadows are proving divine. Step through the sliding door, out onto a split level bricked area lined with herb-filled pots, favourite chairs in various stages of dilapidation, no-longer-presentable-for-company shoes and stacks of weathered wood. Peter’s nests were abandoned before moving, but there are new ones – larger ones - underway.

Look beyond, past the crabapples, and a long, deep-set block opens up. This private stretch of grass – the sweetest part of a pretty damn sweet deal - is what made me hunt the agent down and practically beg that it be ours. When Miss Rosie died two weeks ago, sneaking off as pusscats do, I felt better knowing she'd - at last - known a glorious, sun-soaked life. The garden was her favourite place to be. We miss her terribly, we've all of us cried, but yes, I do believe it’s beginning to feel like a home. 

Honey ice cream
Words cannot express just how delicious this is, nor why it should be so. It’s one of those things one eats in grateful silent spoonfuls. A little goes a long way. The honey you choose will make a difference, so make sure it’s glorious straight off the spoon. I imagine you could substitute other sweet, runny things here. Agave syrup would work well, especially if it’s the dark, wild-crafted stuff or even pure maple syrup, to which I am currently addicted. Wish maples grew here. Sigh.

From nutritionist Jane Clarke’s ‘Bodyfoods for Busy People’. 

5 egg yolks
4 tablespoons (100g) of raw, untreated honey
300ml of single cream (or 250ml of cream and 50ml of milk)

Briefly beat the egg yolks together with the honey in a heat proof bowl. Set the bowl over a small saucepan of rapidly simmering water, whisking constantly for 5 minutes. (Clarke’s recipe suggests you do this until the mixture becomes ‘thick and pale’, but this hasn’t happened for me yet, despite repeated, lengthy attempts. 5 minutes works out just fine)

Set honey and egg mixture aside to cool a little.

Whisk cream (and milk) to soft peaks. Whisk in honey mixture and blend well. Cool mixture in refrigerator before churning, according to your manufacturer’s instruction, in an ice cream machine. 

P.S. The habanero chillies have just ripened and, thanks to you guys, I have a tonne of fresh ways of dealing with them. What a clever bunch. I’ll keep you posted. Also, 2009 is, for me, a year for being brave. You’ll see a bit more of me over the coming days. All part of a little visual project on flickr, initiated by Jeana Marie and gorgeous, wonderful Julie.

Comments

[Anna]

The tour of your home is gorgeous--thanks for sharing with us! You are truly living in a blessedly inspiring natural setting. It gives such flavour to your photos and words.

That ice cream looks DIVINE. That's a recipe to save for a special occasion--or just a special ice-cream day!

[another outspoken female]

Welcome back. My former dairy-eating self is vicariously devouring the heavenly ice cream :)

[ThirdCat]

I made chocolate ice cream on the weekend. It was wonderful. And this week, I am going to give this honey one a go. Sounds gorgeous.

[Johanna]

your home sounds like the great australian dream - lovely photos - and I love the idea of honey in ice cream - although I would just as happily eat honey straght from the spoon

[Maman]

I must come down to see this house one day soon. Please put the honey icecream and the photo of your kitchen on Redbubble - both fantastic!

[Sue]

Hello Lucy, I love the photo of your garden space, so calming and it looks very loved somehow. We are number 23 also, so that was a nice surprise :-)

[claire]

Stunning photos as always, Lucy!

[rachel]

Glad you are back.
I loved the tour.
The icecream recipe is noted and another very good reason to buy an icecream maker.

[Making Love In The Kitchen]

This looks like a great creamy recipe. If you are interested- I have a vegan ice cream recipe using full fat delicious coconut milk: http://meghantelpnerblog.com/2009/02/15/rest-to-digest/

[Lisa]

Thanks for sharing Lucy. And that ice cream. Just divine. My friend just sent me some of the best honey I have ever eaten from New Zealand. I don't have an ice cream maker, but I just might give this a try anyway.

[Christina]

I remember once you saying that you weren't a fan of honey. Honey, I'm glad you've changed your mind: this is beautiful.

So are you.

[Callipygia]

Such a nice moment when one realizes that the environment they find themselves in, is in fact a home. So glad that Miss Rosie was able to luxuriate in it before her big departure. That must be a pleasant thought...as is the honey.

And wow are you brave, 'specially for one that seeks privacy! I'll make sure to check out your project.

[Ricki]

Welcome back! And thanks for the envy-inducing tour--what a splendid place to live. So sorry about Miss Rosie, though at least she did get to enjoy some of that glorious environment. Looking forward to seeing more of you, too.

[chelsea]

Just lovely!

Every bit.

Postcards from the land of milk and honey.

[Wendy]

Hello you. Welcome back. Been missing you and your posts. Wish you hadn't posted this recipe though. You're making me want an ice-cream maker more than ever and I have nowhere to put one! :)

[Mariana]

This is my first time on your site Lucy. I couldnt help but notice the beautiful crabapples. They make the most stunning jelly. Have you ever tried it? There is nothing that compares to a jam or a jelly that has been made from fruit freshly picked straight from the tree. You are welcome to check out my latest post; lilly pilly jelly. What an experience! Unlike you I live in the sunshine state but like you I am very connected to my environment. I'll be back.

[Mariana]

Looking on I find you have indeed made crabapple jelly. Simply gorgeous. Terrific colour and nice jell consistency. Well done.

[reddoorread]

hey lucy, cool post. cheers to being brave.

crabapple is such a cool word.

[Lucy]

Thanks, all! Such an interesting, kind bunch, you are.

Sue: An old friend, born on the 23rd, once told me it was one of the luckiest numbers. Couldn't agree more!

Rachel: I don't use mine often, but it's been a fabulous kitchen addition.

Lisa: NZ Honey? Is it Manuka honey? Lovely.

Christina: Complete overhaul with the honey and my tastebuds. Love the stuff, in moderation, now.

Wendy: I know, I know...they're bloody bulky things, but I must say, it is remarkably useful.

Mariana: Lovely jelly, yours. It took me a while to track you down, and 'cos yours is a blogger blog I couldn't comment (must fix old blogger profile) but I wanted to say wow! That colour is amazing.

[Deb G]

Came to visit via Spirit Cloth. I tried this recipe. It is luscious!

[Kathy Anderson]

Honey Flavored Ice Cream? should be great. Is it very sweet?

[Lucy]

hi kathy - sweet yes, but not tooth-achingly so!