The BF and I were having one of those late night I-can’t-sleep-so-I’m-going-to-bother-you discussions this week wherein he was complaining about how he feels he’s gotten so out of shape because of his job. If you can audibly roll your eyes, I did. He’s a man. If someone says the word “gym” within a 20 mile radius of him he’ll lose 5 pounds; 10 if he thinks of the gym. It’s a blessing. I, on the other hand, think of the word “cookie” and suddenly my ass doesn’t fit in my jeans any more. I’m pretty sure that’s not a blessing.
So we were chit-chatting about it back and forth, and he was telling me he did a nice leisurely warm-up on the treadmill and then jumped rope until the end of time for his first day back at the gym. I told him that sounded miserable (I constantly get tangled in jump ropes, it’s like my feet are magnets for them or something). He thought I was being sarcastic and making fun of him. “Whatever you say, Ms. Runner.” At that point I may have actually choked on my own laughter; at the very least I snorted.
I absolutely do not consider myself a Runner. Sure I run, and on occasion I run far, but when you look at me the first word that pops into your head is absolutely not Runner. I’m what you’d call, ahem, top heavy. That automatically disqualifies me from “Runner” status. A Runner is someone like my cousin, who makes 6 minute miles look effortless, like a gazelle prancing through a field of wheat with the sun shining down and not a lion in sight. I’m more akin to the fat hyena from Lion King hysterically running in every direction; puffy, red, sweaty, with snot dripping down my face. Hawt. Also totally acceptable conversation for a food blog.
When I was kid my parents forced me into physical activity. I wouldn’t say sports, because that would be a lie. I did ballet for awhile, and that was pretty miserable. I have all the grace of a camel running (you should look up camel race videos, they’re hilarious). Then, when we moved to Connecticut, where soccer was all the rage, I was forced into a soccer camp for the summer. I played in the town leagues until 8th grade, at which point all the girls became significantly larger than me, and I was no longer effective as a defender. In high school I tried one practice with the cross country team. It took me less than five seconds to realize that was absolutely not the place for me.
So I joined the golf team. Yeah, that sentence right there? That pretty much sums up my athletic abilities. I was forced to participate in a “sport” so I joined golf, ‘cus it’s totally a sport you guys. Luckily for me I was good enough to be on Varsity all four years, and even Co-Captain my senior year, though to be fair we were all scraping the bottom of the barrel. And it’s nice to think that if I ever do enter the corporate world I could, sort of, hold my own on a golf course. At least I know which clubs to use.
So, even if you don’t run like a crazy person I think you should make this ice cream. Oreo is celebrating its 100th birthday, which holy crap is really mind boggling. In celebration of this they came out with cake batter flavored Oreos. Can I be totally honest with you guys? I kinda want to write Nabisco a letter screaming at them for not having made these sooner. OHMAHLAWD Heaven! You open the bag and it’s like a giant bowl of cake batter slapped you across the face, it’s super potent. But surprisingly the cookies aren’t so overpowering. They’re pretty much the same Oreos you remember, with a slightly different flavor that’s a little hard to place, a little more vanilla I think, and SPRINKLES! So, yeah, they’re awesome. And obviously they needed cake batter flavored ice cream to go with them. I know that’s exactly what you were thinking too. You’re welcome.
*Just a Note: If you like a really creamy ice cream, check out Annie’s original recipe, it has more heavy cream in it than mine. I prefer a slightly less creamy ice cream, otherwise I get really thirsty. It’s bizarre, I know, just roll with it. Also remember all those egg yolks you had leftover from that bourbon vanilla cake? This is a perfect way to use them. Or for the pudding from the Bushwhacker trifle. Just a thought.
Oreo Cake Batter Ice Cream
Recipe adapted slightly from Annie’s Eats
2 1/2 cups whole milk, divided
1/2 cup yellow cake mix (I used Pillsbury Funfetti because I had a box on hand)
1/2 cup sugar
Pinch of salt
3 egg yolks
2 tsp vanilla
1/2 cup heavy cream
2 rows of cake batter flavored Oreos, roughly chopped
Keep whisking until the mixture has thickened and an instant read thermometer reads 170-175°F. I found that as I was whisking the cake batter was making my mixture clumpy. Don’t worry, this won’t effect your base, it just makes it kind of difficult to whisk. Once the the base reaches the 170-175°F, pour through the sieve into the milk and cream mixture. Whisk gently to combine. Cover with plastic wrap and refrigerate for 3 hours or overnight.
After the base has chilled thoroughly freeze according to your ice cream maker’s instructions. About 10 minutes before the cycle is over, add in your chopped Oreos. Pour into a large container and freeze until hard.
Ice cream will last about three weeks to a month in an airtight container, though I’ve been known to savor mine for several months, even if it is a bit frost bitten.