Flavor of the Week: Fuzzy Wuzzy

As promised last week, I am posting, each week, a new flavor, intrinsically unique--a quest for gourmet ice cream.

Fuzzy Wuzzy - honey-peach ice cream with honey-caramelized peach chunks.

I must begin by addressing the name: Fuzzy Wuzzy. This might have gathered smirks or quirks, but its origin is rooted deep in the bowels of childhood fun: a simple, short rhyme that has puzzled children for decades (I still don't know, for the life of me, what color Fuzzy was). I chose the name because it embodied all that is and was my ice cream flavor. Fuzzy Wuzzy was a bear, right? At least that's what I hear. Well, bears love honey, and peaches are fuzzy. There you have it. Honey-peach. Simple.

My quest for ultimate gourmet ice cream journeyed me into foreign lands this week, for I have never attempted a peach ice cream. It proved a difficult task. Fruit flavors tend to be icy because of the copious amount of liquid (juice and water) they house 'neath their permeable skins. These peaches were no different. But war was waged, and fires forged in the attempt to battle back the ubiquitous foe: Isie ('icy'). I wanted to replicate a real peach flavor: an ice cream that tasted like the origin it was derived from. So, I set foot to ground in the local farmer's market in search of true, homegrown peaches fostered by real, working, sweating Alabamians. And did I ever? One stand was teeming with peaches: large, ripe, and globular like the harvest sun as it sets in all its golden furry. Once I disclosed that I was making ice cream, the owner of the 'peach tent' showed me around back. There he offered me a bushel of peaches that were 'over-ripe', and discounted because he couldn't sell them. So, I took him up on the offer, and lugged the fifty-pound box homeward. The creation began.

(all the luscious peaches might have drawn me in, but this sign at the peach stand is really what caught my eye)

For the peach base, I used milk, cream, eggs, sugar (my standard base), and those peaches. To replicate that unequivocal peach taste, I first had to remove their fuzzy clothes. This is a simple procedure: take a knife, and cut an "X" into the base of the peach, (I must confess I got carried away, and began pretending to be a masked hero like Zoro when he wields his keen blade, and carves a "z" into the necks of countless foes. But I was Xzoro...) then just drop them gently into a pot of boiling water for ten minutes. Remove them with a slotted spoon, or by pouring them into a colander, then surprise them with a blast of cold water. This scares them, allowing for their belts to loosen a bit. Let them cool, and they will do whatever you want; their clothes will slip right off...Now, back to the issue at hand. Once peeled, I cut the peaches into irregularly sized chunks, and put them into a pot with organic honey. I brought it to a boil for a minute, reduced the heat, covered the pot, and cooked for ten more minutes until they were very soft. The flavor was, to quote my uncle, "out of this world". The honey brought a natural sweetness to the sweet/tart taste of the peach. The honey-peaches in the pot I then put into a food processor and whirled until they were a smooth burnt orange sludge. But don't let the word 'sludge' out you off. I like to think that this is how food would taste on the sun, where everything is molten and orange and crazy good. The puree was then added to my sweet cream base, and allowed to cool overnight to let the flavors fuse and congeal.

For the honey-caramelized peach chunks I repeated the skin-removing process, then chopped them up, drizzled with honey and sugar, and popped 'em in the oven to broil for ten minutes. 'Elementary, my dear Watson.' Then I put them in the fridge to cool.

I took the peach-base out of the fridge the next day, and congeal it did. It was the consistency of pudding. This is always good, the thicker the better, I say. And it made for a rich, creamy ice cream. While churning, I threw the caramelized peaches in to let their flavor seep into the freezing ice cream, and also to harden.

Alas, the battle was over. The result was magnifatory, though war never comes without a price: after freezing for a few hours, some of the ice cream became slightly icy (such a fowl word in my line of work). The peach chunks, due to their juice, were the most icy of the experiment. The ice cream itself was creamy, and I was pleased with that. Nevertheless, the peaches did provide a texture difference from the creamy ice cream, and a bite into one brought forth Summer on a tidal wave of flavor like a new dawn rising, spreading its arms over the field of battle (my kitchen). And that was my goal: to embody Summer and capture it in an ice cream flavor; and I think peaches did this perfectly.

To all those who tried it, I hope you enjoyed it. The quest is on-going here at Shireshack, and I must venture on to realms unknown, seeking new and exciting ice creams, and always pursuing to defeat my greatest enemy: Isie. Until then see you next week.

-Reese O'Shirey Esq.