Cucumber Ice Cream: The Corruptor

Confession time. I have a few bad habits.

1. I am a plate licker. 2. Very few things anger me more than overcooked egg yolks. 3. I have a substance abuse problem with ice cream. Phew. That felt good.

The ice cream issue has been weighing on me a little more than usual as of late. I typically don’t keep it in the house. I can’t. You understand, right? It might as well be a controlled substance. If left to my own icy devices, it ain’t pretty. And 8% of the year things get especially tough.

In July, the evil geniuses at J.P. Licks release cucumber ice cream. It is a gateway. It is my favorite. And I am always conflicted.

Do I invite a pint in? Allow it to get comfortable next to the frozen peas? It’s like that old friend that you see once or twice a year. You know the one. Whenever you get together for dinner it’s just like old times; you laugh; you reminisce; you wake up at 5 am on cold bathroom tile in a fetal position, reeking of whiskey and regret.

Enter cucumber ice cream: corruptive to the core. I feel compelled to stockpile it while I can. This does not bode well for my addiction (nor for bathing suit season).

Recently, I attempted to bring some order to this chaos of sugar and cream, once and for all. If I can take away the scarcity of cucumber ice cream—I reasoned—perhaps the "situation" will self correct. Round one: not too shabby. It was light, refreshing and subtly cucumber-y. The perfect antidote to the recent heat.

Rest assured, this will not be the last time I play with fire. The cucumbers are too good right now not to continue. Thank god the scientific community is still conflicted on the merits of food addiction. This buys me some time before I’m hauled off to the Betty Ford Center. Between you and me, let’s just stick to calling it a bad habit.

And what is my strategy for handling bad habits, you say? It helps to have rules.

1. I don’t lick plates on dates. 2. I don’t order eggs from a restaurant if I am in a fragile emotional state. 3. I don’t bring unsanctioned ice cream* into the house; for now, it can only enter as cream and be smuggled out via a little extra padding on my behind. And I am fine with that.

*and ice cream-related paraphernalia

Cucumber Ice Cream

5 cucumbers, peeled and seeded, cut into chunks (save the peel from 1-2 cucumbers)

1 cup heavy cream

1 cup half and half

1 cup plus ~2 tbsp sugar

2 tbsp lime juice

4 tbsp lemon juice

Kosher salt to taste

Purée cucumber and strain out liquid, pressing the pulp with rubber spatula to extract all cucumber liquid. Set liquid aside. Heat cream and half and half with sugar and cucumber peel(s), just long enough to dissolve the sugar. (The cucumber peels will make the ice cream more green.) Add cucumber liquid and lime and lemon juice to cream mixture and strain again. Add salt. Chill, preferably overnight. Freeze in an ice cream maker, according to instructions (it should take about 30 minutes to freeze).

Makes about 5-6 cups (depending on how much you sample, ahem, prior to the freezing)

Notes:

- The ice cream was oddly fantastic with a splash of rose water and a sprinkling of smoked sea salt on top; I'd suggest adding them straight into cream mixture before freezing it.

- Also, I am not ashamed to say some friends and I experimented with topping the ice cream with ground pink peppercorns. This would be another tasty way to feed your addiction.