Snow Cream

(Originally written last Saturday evening.)

I made snow cream for the first time in...

twenty years.

I remember the first snowfall I've ever seen. New, from Florida, and had never seen more than a deep purple sky over around the general direction of Georgia. I saw fluffy white stuff on TV and wondered what it felt like. I imagined it as a backdrop in the stories of my aunts and uncles who've been up North.

One day, it fell. It was magical; I didn't have to go to school. We went outside, made a snowman. Threw snowballs. I wore this blue fuzzy coat that I now miss, but since donated to someone who would be in need of it more. It would've been perfect for today.

And back then, like today, I decided to make snow cream. I don't remember how the idea got into my head; maybe mom told me about it or I just came across it as we prepared to get snowed in.

Same recipe: milk, sugar, flavor, (pinch of salt!).

The very first batch I ever made was pretty small. There wasn't quite enough and you had to be sure to wait until a few inches were on the ground. But it was interesting. It was like eating magic.

I was excited to make it again. Such a simple thing, and for a partner that has seen snow and had real, churned-by-hand ice cream before. I like making things for people.

Today, I followed this recipe. I used almond milk and brown sugar instead, though. It came out a lot better, and I made another batch to put in the freezer. I will add berries and sprinkle cardamom on top.

Today, the world shut down– or where I seemed to be, it seemed to.

I wanted to note this, because moments like this for me are few and far in between.