Ice Cream on the Brain

Perhaps it’s the fact that summer is in its full, sweltering swing here in Chicago—complete with oppressive, sauna-like humidity—but I’ve got ice cream firmly on the brain. Yes, I will indulge in an uncommonly good Oberweis vanilla milkshake in the middle of our bone-rattling, frigid winters (the shops wouldn’t stay open if they didn’t want us to stop by…), but it just goes down so nicely with the summer sun hitting the back of my neck, the lingering, intense creaminess enveloping my consciousness, just begging for the charcoal-fired scent of sizzling burgers to waft lovingly through the air…

Yes, summer is here in all its culinary glory. And with it comes yet another wave of ice cream madness and wonder. First off, we have vet-approved ice cream for dogs. I know my ever-shedding, tongue-wagging faithful companion (a jet-black lab hovering around 85 lbs. who barks for reentrance milliseconds after being let out these days…) would just love a scoop (or half-gallon…) of Dog Eat Hog World (a creamy combination of cured pork and chicken).

And the ongoing gourmetization of ice cream continues. Lately, Chicago has gone cold and creamy chic with upstart independents cranking out scoops of smoky dark chocolate with basil and apricot pale ale. Not to be outdone, gelato shakes its culinary thing with goat-cheese caramel cashew.

And although I’m always game for culinary adventure—the recent memory of a particularly well made sweet-corn ice cream still lingers, and I’ll fire up the freezer later in about a month for some chile ice creams when my chile harvest starts to come in full-force—I always go back to vanilla. When done well, it’s quintessentially beautiful in its simplicity.