Molly Moon Neitzel - Molly Moons Homemade Ice Cream: Sweet Seasonal Recipes for Ice Creams, Sorbets, and Toppings Made with Local Ingredients

Copyright 2012 by Molly Moons Homemade Ice Cream

All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced or utilized in any form, or by any electronic, mechanical, or other means, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

Published by Sasquatch Books

Cover photograph: Kathryn Barnard
Cover design: Gregory Flores
Interior photographs: Kathryn Barnard
Food styling: Callie Meyer and Patty Wittmann

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available.

eISBN: 978-1-57061-797-3

Sasquatch Books
1904 Third Avenue, Suite 710
Seattle, WA 98101
(206) 467-4300
www.sasquatchbooks.com

v3.1

for
my grandparents

all of whom, in very much their own ways, shaped who I am and how I have hoped to contribute to the world. It was my Grandpa Johns allowing me to have ice cream before lunch on so very many summer days that instilled in me a love of the cold, creamy treat, and a ritual of spoiling myself and those I love with sweet trips to the local ice cream shop. It was under the tutelage of my grandmothers, Angela and Faye, that I learned the arts of social responsibility and social grace that have pushed me forward in life, with my head held high. It is my Grandpa Herbs humor that keeps me light and gives me hope that life should be as fun as he seems to think!

Sustainable Ice Cream:
What Does That Mean?

recipe list

I couldnt have opened an ice cream shop or created the amazing community I have around my favorite treat without the love and support of Zack; my parents; my little sister, Anna; my grandparents; Charlie at the Big Dipper in Missoula; Debi; Andy and Deborah; and the kids at Music for America who taught me how to (and how not to) be a leader. And I couldnt keep it all going without Christina, Cindy, Jen, Kendal, and Sophia by my side. Special thanks to my mom and Zoe for reading this manuscript so many times. Thank you all so very much!

molly moon neitzel

Thank you to my parents, Marty and Tracy, for letting me waste countless amounts of groceries growing up as I created edible, and less than edible, concoctions in my quest to perfect my craft. For courageously eating, or pretending to eat, whatever I had most recently disguised as food, they, as well as my sisters, Brooke and Blair, are owed more thanks than I can sum up in this paragraph. Thank you to Angela and Patrick for holding down the kitchens in Wallingford and Capitol Hill, respectively, while I worked on this project; to Zoe for her recipe testing and editing; and to Molly for giving me the opportunity to contribute to this book. And thank you to Brian for his continued love and support.

christina spittler

Huge thanks go out from both of us to Shelley Bjornstad, our most enthusiastic recipe tester, and to the amazing Dirty Happy Girls: Kathryn Barnard and Callie Meyer. We couldnt have done this without you!

I have always loved ice cream. I could eat it every day. And I probably have eaten ice cream almost every day of my life. When I was growing up, my mom always kept ice cream in the freezer for my dad, my little sister, and me. And my grandparents all knew it was my favorite treat. Ice cream sundaes were a big to-do at my Grandma Angles house. She loved pulling out her special sundae dishes and the long spoons she saved just for extra-tall parfaits. She had bottles and jars of toppings in the fridge, and she always topped our creations with a cherry. I guess these ice cream affairs after family dinners had something to do with the way my grandmother met my grandfather, Herb, when he was a soda jerk in her neighborhood, the Chicago suburb of Oak Park. She would push her baby brother in a stroller up the street to the soda fountain and order a double dip on a cone. While Herb was scooping, she made sure he could see her jaunty little hat, on which she had embroidered her name, Angie, in pretty script. Once he had finished, and just before he handed her the cone, my grandma would scrunch up her nose and say, Oh, I wanted the vanilla on top of the chocolate. Could you switch them? just to keep him there a little longer!

In my late twenties, after years working in politics and the music industry and getting burned out on both, I desperately sought a new career that would satisfy my need for independence. It was then that I remembered my first love, ice cream, and I set out to create a place in Seattle where the Angies and Herbs of 2008 could meet.

You see, before a brief fundraising career, and before I was the executive director of a political nonprofit that worked with bands to politically engage their fans, I had a college job. And like most college girls, I sought work at a place where I could get my favorite thing for free. For me it wasnt a clothing boutique or a record storeit was an ice cream shop. From 1998 through 2000, I worked at the Big Dipper in Missoula, Montana, first as a scooper and later as an ice cream maker. In a few years, I learned most of what it takes to run an ice cream shop from an unorthodox college mentorCharlie, the Big Dippers punk rock owner. I loved Charlie. And I loved what he had createda multigenerational community gathering place in Missoula where college kids, families with little ones, and empty nesters alike would line up for the Big Dippers huckleberry ice cream and tangerine sorbet. I loved the way that ice cream could bring so many people together from around town, and I loved how, every evening, the picnic benches outside the shop felt like a lighthearted congregation.

And so, over the summer of 2007, with a little moxie and some great business planning software, I wrote a plan to create what I thought Seattle was missing most: a multigenerational community gathering place of our own where ice cream could be the vehicle to get neighbors together and put young professionals in a crowd with toddlers, teenagers, and retirees alikea place where it was affordable to spend an evening with the neighborhood.