“There’s about a 50/50 chance we’ll be able to land in St. John’s due to fog.” Those were the words of the pilot on my plane home to Newfoundland for Christmas two years ago. I’m making the annual pilgrimage again tomorrow and as I stare out of bedroom window, I wonder what feat of nature will get in the way. Will it be snow? Rain? Sleet? Hail?
Moose?
Yes, moose. I was once diverted to Gander (a four-hour bus drive from St. John’s) because there was a moose on the runway. Apparently the traffic controllers weren’t having much luck shooing the poor guy along.
I remember two years ago that the pilot who’d made the 50/50 call (this was, fortunately, not also the moose year) circled the airport and everyone else on the flight—ex-pats returning home, like me—stared out the window down to the twinkling city lights below. The moon on the narrows; the Rooms and the Basilica on the hill; Quidi Vidi—a surrealist creation in black onyx.
I also remember that at that point I was watching the movie “Eat, Pray, Love.” Fitting—because all you can do when the captain makes an announcement like that is pray. Sadly, the movie isn’t as great as the book. I remembered how lovely it was. There’s a very sweet line where the main character is at an ashram in India talking to another resident, who says:
“Think of what you could do if you took all that effort and space in your head you use to think about him for something else. Think about him fondly, wish him well, then take a big breath and let God rush into the space. Let His spirit fill you up, feed you with cold, brilliant air.”
So as a prayer to land in Newfoundland, I took a deep breath and pushed out Montreal, and in came this big swell of home. The lights from the airport appeared outside the window, and as the plane wheels set down the world seemed to sparkle. Every person who stepped off the plane into St. John’s Airport that night thanked that captain. They thanked whatever powers that be. And they hugged the people who met them at the gate just a little longer.
Eat, Pray, Love Gelato
3 cups unsweetened Almond Milk (or sweetened vanilla and add less sugar below)
4 egg yolks
1 cup sugar, honey, maple syrup or other sweetener
3 tbsp vanilla amaretto (amaretto with a few vanilla beans soaking in it for at least a week and up to an eternity…or just use vanilla extract or the seeds of one vanilla bean)
Melt the sweetener (sugar, agave, honey, whatever you want, but preferably something without a strong flavour of its own) over medium heat in a heat-proof bowl set above gently boiling water in a saucepan (this is a home-made double-boiler system and helps you NOT scramble the eggs or overcook the milk), stirring constantly to dissolve and not let it burn. While this is happening, scald the milk in another saucepan (bring it just to the edge of a boil). Then pour the milk over the melted sugar. Stir and cook until the sugar is dissolved. While the sugar is cooking, separate the eggs (reserve the whites for another purpose – I tried to make cookies but baking powder is not flour, as it turns out…darn you, bulk food store and my inability to properly label things!).
Beat the egg yolks with a whisk and add about a quarter cup of the hot mixture to the yolks, whisking constantly so the eggs don’t scramble. Then add the eggs slowly back into the rest of the milk mixture on the stove (called “tempering”).Cook over medium-low heat until thickened, about 5-8 minutes (or until a candy thermometre reaches 160 degrees Fahrenheit). Don’t let it boil or the eggs will curdle and you’ll still end up with scrambled egg ice cream—or bad ‘nog. When the milk is thick enough for you, take it off the heat, add the almond extract, let the mixture cool to room temperature, and stick it in the fridge overnight.
The next day pass the milk mixture through a sieve (this gets the cooked egg or top layer of film out of the ice cream), and process in an ice cream maker. Be thankful—if nothing else, then at least for gelato.
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