Confessions of a Custard Queen

Two or three times a year my parents host a dinner for their friends (the husbands are all former members of the men’s ballet chorus* of our local carnival club), and tomorrow there’ll be the last dinner of 2008. I offered to take care of the dessert and to this end, made ice cream and custard.

I love my ice making machine, but in order to make sufficient ice cream for 10 people, you have plan ahead and start early: first flavour (red currant) (okay, well, it was planned as red currant; unfortunately, I picked the box in the supermarket and ended up with cowberries – funny name, isn’t it? – and because these are somewhat bitter, I had to add a few raspberries to the mixture)was started with on Saturday (cook custard, add cream and mashed berries, and put in the fridge) and finished on Sunday (put the mixture into the ice cream machine, wait for the beep). Second flavour (Christmas chocolate) was started with on Wednesday (grate chocolate, sieve cocoa, cook custard, melt chocolate in cream, add cocoa, stir well until smooth!!!!, add to custard, add more cream and sugar) and finished on Thursday. And the third flavour (maple walnut) was started with yesterday (cook custard, realise you don’t have the right maple syrup – Grade A instead of Grade C -, what the heck, just add more maple syrup to make up for it, chop walnuts, roast walnuts, stop yourself from eating all the maple custard!) and finished early this morning. And this evening I made the custard that will go with all the ice cream.

I’ve become really good at cooking custard. *ggg*

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* The men’s ballet choruses of German carnival clubs have absolutely nothing to do with these guys:


Instead, they look like this:

or this:


Twenty to thirty years ago my Mum used to train the ballet chorus of our local carnival club. I still have fond memories of my honorary uncles walking around in yellow duck costumes and looking like mutated rubber duckies. *ggg* That was the year they performed the “Ententanz” (“Chicken Dance” or “Birdie Dance” in English). Equally unforgettable are their performance of “The Dance of the Hours” (as gigantic flowers) and of a song from Cats (and our Bustopher Jones needed no padding!!! *g*).

For the uninitiated: the Chicken Dance (unfortunately, the mutated rubber duckies were not available) (too bad!).

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