Craig's Corner - Free-Range Musing

From my friend Craig, up in Oregon...

Free-range musing...

This is not sacrilege.

It is not a crime against humanity.

It’s one of the little treats of being an adult.

So gather your courage and let's get started.

First, you need two scoops of top quality vanilla ice cream. NOT the stuff that comes in multi-gallon tubs—-the good stuff. Don’t get frisky. People have died from replacing vanilla with Neapolitan or spumoni. In a few months you might want to use fudge ripple, but for right now vanilla—plain, French, or Tahitian—is what you want.

This is no time to be cheap. If that means you have to splurge on ice cream from overseas or ice cream made by activists from Vermont, do it. You’re worth it and it’s hot!

Put two scoops in a large oversize glass—not a bowl. A pitcher will also work.

Next you need either a bottle or a can of the blackest, porter-ist beer you can find. BudLite doesn’t make it! Guinness is the hands down best.

Don’t cringe! Don’t wimp out on me now! We’ve gone too far to back out.

Slowly pour the beer into the container with the ice cream.

The beer may show signs of confusion. It may foam up or more likely it won’t at all. Let it rest. Remember, it’s getting in touch with its inner child. BTW don’t create this in front of the kids.

After about 30 seconds, gently stir the mixture.

Sit back, relax, take a sip, and resist the impulse to exclaim, “Where has this been all my life?!?”

After the first sip, there might be a temptation to chug the whole thing in one gulp. I don’t have a problem with that.

There is one thing to be aware of…it is still beer. When the police pull you over, don’t expect them to believe you were just chugging floats all night. 

I don’t anticipate that happening, because after about three of these you may have to leave the patio and waddle back into the house.

Try not to make this a habit. I would hate to think your angry spouse meets you at the door late at night and growls, “Is that vanilla I smell on your breath?”