Last week, we at the Miscellany made an exciting discovery within the pages of a seventeenth-century cookbook — a recipe for what we can only describe as ye olde ice cream. It’s been a snowy 10th week in Northfield, so we can’t think of a better way to unwind after turning in comps than making some Cream with Snow. Sit back, relax, and let the Queen’s Closet guide you through a chill (teehee) night of cooking. Pictures provided for clarity. Also because we are burnt out from compsing, and you know what they say: a picture is worth a thousand words.
To be clear, this recipe is basically one long sentence. We’ve helpfully broken it up into smaller steps for when you totally, definitely, inevitably try this at home. Look, we’ve even added a convenient grocery list!
- 3 pints of cream
- 7 or 8 egg whites
- Rosewater
- Sugar
- Whole cloves
- Cinnamon sticks
- Fresh ginger
- Snow
(A little snow never hurt anyone. I even remember making school-sanctioned snow ice cream in my elementary school once and my class was all totally fine. But also, like, if you do get sick please don’t sue us. Just try one of the Queen’s Closet’s useful cures for vomiting: “Seethe a good quantity of Cloves in Ale very well, that it may be strong of the Cloves, then sweeten it with Sugar, and drink it warm.” Please don’t sue us if you try that one, either.)
1. Take three Pintes of Creame, and the whites of seaven or eight Egges, and Straine them together, and a little Rosewater, and as much Sugar as will sweeten it,
- We halved the recipe, because that’s kind of a lot. Seven or eight eggs? In this economy?
- Also, nowhere in Northfield sells rosewater as far as we could find. So we used vanilla. You could probably use other flavors if you’re feeling ambitious. (We are historically inspired, not historically accurate. If you have a problem with that, YOU try doing this without a modern kitchen.)
2. then take a sticke as big as a childes Arme, cleave one end of it a crosse, and widen the pieces with your finger, beat your Creame with this sticke, or else with a bundle of Reeds tyed together, and rowl between your hand standing upright in your Creame,
(We did not do this. We used a whisk.)
3. now as the snow ‘arises’ take it up with a spoon in a Cullender that the thin may run out,
- Why are there scare quotes around “arises”? I have no idea, but it kind of reminds me of how my grandmother writes emails. Anyways, we now present Gathering Snow: A story in four parts.
4. now when you have sufficient of this Snow, take the Cream that is left, and seeth it in the skellet,
- How much snow is “sufficient”? I have no idea! You decide!
- We thought, upon reading this, that they wanted us to add some snow to the cream already. So we did. In retrospect, I actually don’t think we were supposed to do that at all, and we were just supposed to save the snow for later. Which would make sense, because why would we add snow before seething. Oh well. Don’t think it made much of a difference either way.
- You may be wondering what the word “seeth” means. After the use of context clues, rigorous intellectual debate, and the OED, we decided to interpret it as “boil.”
5. and put thereto whole Cloves, stickes of Cinnamon, a little Ginger bruised,
- How much? Once again, we used a vibe-based method called sure why not that seems like enough.
- We used a very convenient cube of frozen ginger. Basically the same thing, right?
6. and seeth it till it be thick,
(The lasagna you had in the oven will be done before this thing even seems like it’s “thick.” No matter how long we let the cream boil, it did not seem to change in consistency. Because why would it. We don’t really know what they meant by this. Or what seething accomplished, really. At least we won’t be getting salmonella.)
7. Then strain it, and when it is cold put it into your Dish, and lay your snow upon it.
- Oops. We didn’t strain it. We just put it outside for a bit until it was cold.
- We used mugs because our cream, as we mentioned, was still very much a liquid. After some trial and error, we found that it made the most sense to add about two parts snow to one part cream.
- Actually, forget what I just said because this is really subject to change depending on snow consistency. The first time we tried this, we ended up making what I can only describe as eggnog slushies — because the “cream” part of “Cream with Snow” is kinda just eggnog, if you haven’t caught on to that yet. It was… fine? The cinnamon-cloves-ginger combination was pretty good. Pretty refreshing, if you ignored the sort of filmy mouthfeel and the crunchiness of the snow.
- But, in the interim between our first attempt and the publication of this article, we had another snowfall — and let’s just say the quality of your snow makes a HUGE difference to this recipe. The fluffier the snow, the better. It mixes much better with the cream that way.
Ladies and gentlefolk, Cream with Snow.
Not a bad treat for a wintry day, if you ask me. If anyone does end up trying this, let us know how it goes! (Or, for that matter, if you end up trying the cure for vomiting. Really curious about how that one would work out, but I’m not brave enough to experiment on myself.)
In any case, we hope the end of winter term is treating you well, dear readers! We wish you the best of luck with finals, if you’ve got any left. And if you’re finished with school work for now, I can’t help but notice that it just started snowing again… perfect cream with snow weather, if you ask me.
Signing off for now,
Your beloved edz.
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