Well, I've only been talking about it for a week. And I finally did it: I made my very first batch of the most incredible...deep...dark...intense...velvety....rich...lovely...
homemade chocolate ice cream.
I've heard it said that once you make your own, you can never go back to the store bought kind. And now, I am a believer, thanks in part to the clear-as-a-bell instructions in the awesome book The Perfect Scoop, by David Lebovitz. He talks about this particular recipe being the one that ended his search for the perfect chocolate ice cream, and now that I've tried it, I can see (and taste!) what he means.
One thing I love about following recipes is that usually, if you follow the directions, you get good results. You get what you expect and hope for. Sometimes what you get exceeds your expectations. I find this so incredibly comforting, not unlike chocolate ice cream.
So much of life is uncertain and comes with no recipe or tour guide. I feel like I spend the great majority of my time trying different approaches and bouncing off the walls, as if my life were taking place inside a pinball machine. Sometimes I hit it just right, and other times, I just bounce around randomly. It's certainly never boring, but I feel frequently bewildered. That's why a single moment of culinary perfection is so utterly satisfying. Sweet success indeed.