I Scream, You Scream...

For most of my life, I never knew it was possible to make ice cream. The prevailing philosophy in my mother's kitchen is, "why bother making it when you can just buy it?"  As a consequence, a gallon of Schwan's mint chocolate chip was far and away the most exotic thing in our deep freeze. Of course, I was a big fan of that ice cream and would eagerly await the one day of each week when the Schwan's truck would stop at our door.  More often than not, my mom didn't want to buy anything and made us hide from the Schwan's man ("Ssshh! Pretend we're not home!"), but occasionally we would get lucky and end up with a stash of frozen treats. Choco tacos, ice cream sandwiches, drumsticks... these were my formative experiences with ice cream.