Brown Sugar Salted Caramel

Before I tell you how I got to this brown sugar salted caramel, I gotta ask:

Don’t you just love New York in the fall?

I can hear Tom Hanks’ voice in my head from the iconic You’ve Got Mail line whenever I walk down Michigan Avenue on my way to and from work, sun shining and tulips abloom, but rather asking:  Don’t you just love Chicago in the spring?

Spring, a loose definition.

While I do fancy myself a fall girl, I do love this time of the year when the city seems to come alive from its winter hibernation.  The excitement never gets old. The same drill, year after year.

A few days ago, one of those “time hop” things showed up on my friend’s Facebook page with a law school graduation picture…”8 years ago today!” and I stopped in my tracks. 8 years. That’s a hella long time.

Time flies. At the speed of light.

I’ve lived in Chicago 8 years this May. I moved here “fresh of the boat,” so to speak, from my semester in London, with a broken foot, without a job and one friend in AC.  While I may still live on the same street on which I signed that first lease (true story), so much has changed.  I’ve been able to maintain most of the friendships that I made that first year and have picked up many more along the way. I passed the bar, and have a grown-up job. I’ve made big girl purchases (car) and taken mind-blowing vacations.  While a few pounds heavier, I still manage to wear the same size from back then and am still without any grey hairs (I got SOME good genes, it seems!).  It’s been a good ride so far.

While an 8-year anniversary seems an odd thing to celebrate, I’m going to do it.  Mostly because, with this week being somewhat cut short by my trip to Denver for Frites’ wedding, I don’t want to dive head first into Bolivia just yet. I suspect I’ll be coming back from Colorado with a recipe or two to share.

So, in an ode to Chicago and my 8 years here, I thought I’d make a very Chicago-inspired dish because Chicago has some pretty iconic foods. The “Chicago dog,” deep dish pizza, Italian beef, Garrett’s popcorn…I can’t say that I’m a fan of most. I’ve never had a Chicago dog, think deep dish pizza is pretty gross and Italian beef is just…meh.  Garrett’s…I’ve give ya that. That is some addictive crack.

So I thought that was what I was making today. With a twist, of course.  It did NOT seem silly to try and turn it into an ice cream. And I’m not silly.

After doing some research, it seemed like a not-bad idea, and I figured I’d use the straightforward approach of infusing the cream with some cheddar popcorn and then swirling in some homemade brown butter caramel. And, because extraneous steps were necessary at the beginning, I’d use a no-churn approach for the rest.

And that’s where things started to get tricky.

Somehow, someway, the infusion of the cream with the popcorn changed its chemistry enough that the cream would not whip. Fifteen minutes later on high speed, I had little more than somewhat frothy cream, but no peaks in sight. Good thing I had already opened my can of sweetened condensed milk…planning fail.  Because I don’t have magical powers that re-seal cans, I had to plow forward as originally planned, but ended up throwing that whole mixture into the churn.  The result, probably from the sweetened condensed milk, left for a very soft serve ice cream. Not a bad thing, but not as expected and not, at the end of the day, worth sharing. 

While the flavor I wanted was still there, I decided to add a brown sugar salted caramel in layers in the freezer container. Because that part was a success, that part is what I share.

The ice cream is a tale for another time.