Mineral Rights

Last weekend I made vanilla ice cream to prove that I could. Then I made some pistachio and cardamom ice cream to satisfy my own eclectic tendencies. With the family's arteries clogging and my frighteningly full-fat (but low-lactose!) dairy inventory running low I prepared to take a break from frozen treats for a while - or at least, until I next assaulted my local supermarket's cream and half-and-half supply.

But the boys wouldn't let me pack away my new freezer bowl just yet.

They wanted chocolate ice cream.

And who could blame them? It's pretty fundamental stuff - basic and honest, guaranteed to please just about anybody. Of course, I couldn't just make any chocolate ice cream - it had to rich and velvety; slightly sweet but not - heaven forbid - cloying or sugary. I wanted it to be adult and proudly proclaim, 'Yes! I am home-made ice cream! I can't be found in the shops!'

Also, I wanted to use up my Ghirardelli 60%. I have written before that I dislike having chocolate in the house - it causes too much temptation and competitive unpleasantness. To be fair, the Kid Squid prefers milk chocolate and doesn't generally go for the darker varieties: Lindt 'classic recipe' is his dessert-island choc of choice. Sir, on the other hand, goes for bittersweet every time - unless Dairy Milk is on offer. You know how you should never stand between a hippo and his watering hole in the morning, lest you get yourself stampeded into oblivion? It's the same thing with Sir and Cadbury's signature sweet: the wisest course is to get out of his way when he hears its Siren Song. I myself am not a huge cacao fan (difficult though that might be to believe) although I do like white chocolate on occasion (I know, I know) and praline-filled marbled seashells.

None of us goes for the really challenging single-origin straight-from-the-tree product (you know the stuff: 120% cacao harvested only in Northern Ghana when the moon is full, lovingly pre-digested by wombats and crafted by indigenous peoples into hand-made cassava-leaf-wrapped bars that cost $27 each). Nope, reasonably good supermarket chocolate is fine with us - but most supermarket chocolate ice cream is definitely not. Haagen-Dazs Five isn't bad if you can afford the second mortgage on your house to pay for it - but let's face it, a second mortgage isn't worth what it used to be.

Faced with this new challenge, I hunted around for a likely-looking recipe and found one in the big Yellow Gourmet cookbook. I didn't have the exact ingredients in the house, so I made do with what I had on hand and adapted the procedure accordingly. At the end of the first phase, I had a rich chocolate custard that was as thick as pudding: the Squid licked the beaters and the spatula quite clean and then asked for a bowlful for dessert. Since he was sick and sniffly, poor lamb, I allowed it just this one, admitting in the process that the custard was scrumptious just the way it was. With some whipped cream, booze, and maybe some fresh fruit and sugared nuts scattered round and about it would be good enough for company.

Frozen into ice cream it became thick and unctuous and rich beyond belief. No kidding - it tasted like it came straight out of the ground from a substratal seam of pure burbling dark deliciousness. It was a little too much for the Squid, actually, who preferred it in its chilled semi-liquid state. Sir was having none of it, however, and declared the ice cream intense, toothsome, creamy and triumphant.

And very, very tasty.

Elemental Chocolate Ice Cream (adapted from the big yellow Gourmet cookbook)

• one and one-half cups of sugar
• one cup of unsweetened Dutch-process cocoa powder
• good pinch of salt
• three cups of heavy cream
• two cups of half-and-half
• 6 egg yolks
• eight ounces of bittersweet chocolate, chopped into tiny bits

Whisk together the sugar, cocoa powder, and salt in a saucepan. Slowly whisk in the dairy. Bring the mixture to just short of the boil, stirring often.

Beat the egg yolks until they are pale and creamy. Dribble in the hot cream mixture, beating all the while. When that's done, pour it back into the pan. Heat it up, stirring constantly, until it coats the back of your best wooden spoon (usually around 170-175 deg F).

Remove the pan from the heat and whisk in the chocolate bits until they are all melted.

Strain the mixture into a clean bowl set inside another bowl filled with ice. Cool the custard, stirring occasionally. At this point, it is a delicious thick pudding that may be enjoyed as is.

If you still want ice cream, put the bowl in the fridge, uncovered, for an hour. Then cover it and chill overnight. The next day, freeze it in your ice cream maker and put it in the freezer to harden (several hours or overnight). You'll get about two quarts of a very adult frozen confection.