Monday, September 2, 2013

Polly Calls It "Kick The Bucket!"

I've often snorted with derision when I come across a recipe for making ice-cream on Scout Camp.
This is despite the fact that I've come across a recipe for just that in a Scout's Outdoor Cookbook... 



I mean, can you imagine anything quite as ridiculous as a hoard of boys aged 12 to 15 years old knocking around the 'football pitch' kicking a bag of strawberry ice-cream? Err, that would be a big fat no from me. Aside from the cost of buying the ingredients, including salt and ice, I've always figured that it'd be cheaper to just buy a giant sized tub of the readymade stuff! Definitely in the case of the cub pack it would as our numbers are gradually creeping upwards...

Anyhow, this afternoon when I went to view my e-mails I came across the following; which of course put me in mind of the famous scout ice-cream kick about recipe!



Doesn't it look interesting/great? That said, I think in all honesty I'd rather use my ice-cream maker. Still, it's food for thought (if you'll excuse the pun), isn't it? BTW did you know that ice-cream is one of my favourite treat foods - probably going back to the days when it wasn't common-place as it is now.

I fondly remember the time when the ice-cream lady used to appear during the half-time break at the movies! For extra luscious luxury one had a choice of with or without ripple. My parents would probably remember the same woman as the cigarette girl, for this was in the bad old days when patrons were allowed to smoke during a screening or indeed during a performance if one was lucky enough to be at the theatre...

Ah, the memories! I used to go to the Saturday morning cinema club. Afterwards I'd take myself swimming at the local baths, which were to all intents and purpose just around the corner. This of course was all courtesy of the public transport services providing a bus to ferry me around the town and its environs.

The local swimming pool in those days consisted of a white tiled Victorian public bath house. I can remember bobbing up and down in the shallow end firmly refusing to swim properly, being somewhat caught up in my self imposed version of the doggie paddle - this was until a firm ducking at the hands of one Edward Deakin. It was after that experience that I vowed I would learn how to swim properly after all...

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