?

Log in

No account? Create an account
 
 
01 September 2007 @ 05:41 pm
milkshakes  
The Irish do not understand milkshakes.

The first time I was in Ireland (in the UK, in fact, because this problem was endemic to England and Wales as well) I ordered milkshakes several times, and was always presented with this rather nasty concoction that was more like shaken milk than a milkshake. Sometimes it was lumpy. Other times it was bubbly, but not like soda bubbles, but rather, like shaken milk bubbles. It was never cold enough, or chocolatey enough, and it clearly never had any acquaintance with ice cream. After about the third one, I gave up and stopped ordering them. In the two years I've lived in Ireland now, I haven't ordered a milkshake, because I figured it was too risky. But today I was out and I was thirsty and I thought, "Well, hell, I'll give it a try," and went to a Butlers Chocolate Cafe, because they have the best hot chocolate I've had in Ireland, and ordered a milkshake.

I received a--in their defense, sufficiently chocolatey--mildly cold somewhat bitter-flavored drink that was thicker than milk but which clearly had no acquaintance with ice cream. It wasn't *bad*, but it was in no way a milkshake.

Honestly, what's the difficulty here? Milkshakes aren't that hard of a concept. You take ice cream. You take milk. (In an ideal world, you take vanilla ice cream and chocolate syrup and milk, rather than chocolate ice cream and milk.) You blend them together and you have a tasty treat.

It can't be that the shakes are being pureed to the point of no longer having any recognizeable ice cream content. They're just not thick or cold enough to have ever *had* any ice cream, not even soft serve ice cream, and this one wasn't *sweet* enough to have ice cream. There is some fundamental disconnect about what a milkshake _is_, and I'm bewildered by it.

*pauses for Wikipedia*

Well, that does in fact explain it. According to the history of milkshakes page, "Several decades ago, milkshakes were made without ice cream1, a practice which is still continued in some parts of the UK, Australia and New England."

1"A milk shake might be milk, shaken up, with or without flavorings-if that's how it was when you were growing up. For most people, it's synonymous with a frappe: mik, syrup, and ice cream." (p.668-669) - How to Cook Evertything. Mark Bittman. Wiley Publishing Inc. 1998 ISBN-13: 978-0-4717-8918-5"

*headdesk*

On other topics, kateelliott has a great little essay/query thing about writers and insecurities. Everybody's got 'em. :)

I finished chapter 14 today. Only 1300 or so words of forward motion, but it's done, and page 200 is finally within reach. Sadly, that's not the halfway point in this book, but since I've revised the first part three times now and haven't yet reached page 200, it's this huge haunting milestone there in front of me. But now--because my shoulder's been achy since I got up--I'm going to trundle downstairs and read the rest of FIFTY DEGREES BELOW, which I'm trusting is eventually going to come to some sort of great crescendo, instead of continuing to be this sort of mildly bemusing introspective examination of humanity's place, past, present and future, on the planet.

Then again, that might be the point.

ytd wordcount: 155,600
miles to Minas Tirith: 270
 
 
Current Mood: grumpygrumbly
 
 
 
desperancedesperance on September 1st, 2007 05:25 pm (UTC)
Ah now, see, I grew up loving milk in all its forms, and yet I never loved the milkshake; and you may - finally, at this too-late stage in my life! - have put your finger on why, because no, in this country the milkshake has never had any connection with ice cream. The ones I tried - 'way 'way back, when I was a smallish thing - were composed of milk and flavouring and some sort of thickening, and nasty.

These days, alas, ice cream wouldn't do it for me either (I've gone all foodie, and refuse to eat it, mostly), but I can see how it would have made a major difference when I was a kid. 'Til now, this very moment, it had never occurred to me that the US fondness for these vile things was actually an instance of the same word carrying two meanings, so thank you for that. George Bernard Shaw would've been quicker.
kitmizkit on September 1st, 2007 08:51 pm (UTC)
If commercial British ice cream is of the same general quality as commercial Irish ice cream, I'd go off it too (in fact I have, and thus instead spend €6.69 on Haagen-Dazs or Ben & Jerry's, which is like TEN DOLLARS A PINT FOR GOD'S SAKE). It's terrible.
desperancedesperance on September 1st, 2007 09:00 pm (UTC)
It is. It always has been. There are of course good ones available these days, or one can make one's own; I still tend to avoid 'em. Anything that cold, you lose all the subtleties of flavour, the grace-notes that make taste interesting. Same is true of piping-hot food. Closest to room- or body-temperature, the more the flavours are available. Quoth the foodie, ever more...
kitmizkit on September 1st, 2007 09:12 pm (UTC)
See, I'd disagree on the cold end (hot you just can't eat, there's no point). In my experience the thing that's critical on the cold end of the spectrum is there's simply a very limited number of bites you get before your mouth goes cold and you can't, in fact, taste the subtleties. For true flavor impact ice cream probably shouldn't be served in more than half-cup servings, and probably a quarter to a third is really optimum for enjoying the flavor.

Which doesn't, mind you, stop me from *eating* it a pint at a time....
desperancedesperance on September 1st, 2007 10:05 pm (UTC)
Which doesn't, mind you, stop me from *eating* it a pint at a time....

Attaperson. Never let a simple statistic divert you from your pleasures. *g*