Adorable ice cream sandwiches with delicious tea that already has the cream and sugar added. Winning. Continue reading
Swap out your boring vanilla ice cream for this cinnamon sweetie the next time you serve pie. Continue reading
Take your coke float to the next level with rum ice cream. Continue reading
Ice cream that tastes just like a frostie and uses real milk chocolate. Like more than just a single chocolate bar. Which means you have left over chocolate to nibble on also. I look out for you like that. Continue reading
A round up of 5 ice cream recipes and one boozy popsicle treat for good measure. Continue reading
A deliciously creamy lemon ice cream swirled with crispy cinnamony cookies. So good you’ll devour it even with an ice cream headache. Continue reading
I dunno about you, Chitlins, but I lurve me some bourbon. However, being a girl, I have a hard time drinking it straight (or on the rocks, or neat or whatever the proper terminology is), so I like to mix it with things. My favorite mixer of all time is ginger ale. But that can get old pretty quickly. And then I stumbled upon a marvelous discovery that only took me a year to recreate.
So, I hope you’re riding that pistachio gravy train Chitlins because I’m bringing you another recipe. But I promise, it’ll be the last one for awhile (mostly because I can’t think of anything else to make with pistachios, except for pudding. BRB jotting that down). Okay, anyway. I adore pistachio ice cream. I wasn’t always this way, I really didn’t like anything with nuts when I was growing up. My idea of a wild ice cream flavor was “crazy vanilla,” which I only learned was different colored vanillas when I was about, oh…16.
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.
In my last post right before Christmas I had mentioned the severe anxiety I get the week before Christmas actually arrives because I’m concerned I haven’t listened to enough holiday music. Well, right as the start of January rolls around I get a whole new anxiety: the fear of not having consumed enough eggnog before it is off the shelves again for another 11 miserable months.