I thought I never really liked sorbet — until my son-in-law and daughter served me some of their homemade, low-sugar, mango sorbet last weekend. It wasn’t sweet like ice cream, and it wasn’t as creamy, but it tasted good, and the texture was quite appealing. Most excitingly, they had made it from scratch on their ice cream machine. I pleaded with my wife for the same machine. The jury is still out.
If you are old enough, you can probably go back with me to those days when ice cream ruled. In New York City, the Good Humor truck and the Bungalow Bar truck would ding-ding their bells, and you would literally jump out of the house to get your treat. The man in the white suit with the white police-officer-type cap would slowly open the apparently heavy square door to the freezer compartment on the side of the truck. He would take out the ice cream bar, or cup, take your money, and drive off, ding-dinging his way down the street. You couldn’t take your eyes off the truck until it vanished from sight.
Ice cream ruled for so many years. My love of it was reinforced as a youngster when I discovered the deliciously addictive Good Humor Toasted Almond bar. So addictive, in fact, was that ice cream bar that when I moved to California — a state that for some reason does NOT sell that bar — I had to order that ice cream by the case.
But alas, in these later years when neither I nor my wife, wish to don the pounds, our ice cream intake has been curtailed. In fact, we have a rule in our house: no sweets. Perhaps my wife favors vetoing the ice cream machine because she believes I might clandestinely produce rich toasted almond ice cream. To tell you the truth, that would be most tempting.
Back to the sorbet. Will I buy it in the market instead of ice cream? I don’t think so. Would I make sorbet exclusively in a homemade machine? Yes — if I had to promise the wife. But I understand what I believe to be her thinking: If I made a quart of “low sugar” sorbet each evening, it would not go uneaten. And that would make us fatter. You know, our eyes are really bigger than our stomachs. Over the years, I only ordered two cases of those toasted almond bars. I usually stick to one small ice cream a week. If I got that ice cream maker, I’d probably use it for a few months. Even on my birthday, when I could have a whole frosted cake — I don’t. But what I will always have are those memories of the “ding-ding” ice cream trucks. And I will likely s-c-r-e-a-m for ice cream as long as I shall live.
Mr. Ebsen may be contacted at robertebsen@hotmail.com
