The Great Ice Cream Caper

Is there anyone—even amid the winter doldrums—who doesn’t love ice cream? On an eighth-grade statistics chart, I filled in “ice cream” under FAVORITE FOOD. Today I’d probably write “pizza”—but both point east over the Andes to Argentina’s population of Italian immigrants. Little did I know back in junior high days.

My husband and I have been privileged every year or two for the past 25 to make a road (or plane) trip across those rugged mountains. Yes, Argentine beef rates superb. Their homemade pastas rank second to none—stuffed cannellones or lasagna floating in a lake of Bolognese sauce, sigh. And while it may not boast American toppings, you have never tasted pizza until you’ve had it piping and dripping from an outdoor clay oven in one of South America’s Italian enclaves.

“Never say ‘no’ to adventures. Always say ‘yes’; otherwise you’ll lead a very dull life.” –Ian Fleming

But I digress. Ice cream is still my all-time favorite dessert. My search for the world’s best gelato—ice cream—began innocently enough, on a boring New Year’s Eve in Licán Ray, Chile. After most of our missionary colleagues headed for bed at camp, we skipped into the village with a couple of friends to find what we could for excitement. The best we came up with that night was a glorified ice cream bar on a stick at the single open shop. Happy New Year.

From Licán…

However, our (somewhat clandestine) capers into Licán for ice cream became a nightly tradition during conference week. As the summer season—and even the decades—advanced, the sleepy village transitioned to a booming resort town. It crackled to life in the late evening: Restaurants and amusements lined the entire strand of volcanic sand. An outstanding artisans’ fair, stalls interspersed with vivid blue hydrangeas, did thriving business in the plaza.

“Ice cream is a treat that never gets old.” –Unknown

We transitioned too. While the Savory or Bresler-brand bars actually were good quality, we moved on to triple scoops and iced coffee floats at sidewalk cafés. Our children grew up as well—we’d often bump into the youth crowd while on an ice cream run. Their night life consisted of queuing for fries and churros and getting their hair braided with colored cord and charms.

…To Linares

In the early years before our family moved to Santiago, we lived in the small city of Linares in Chile’s golden central valley. Neighbors there introduced us to Danubio, a popular local heladería that made water-based artisanal ice cream. I confess I failed to perceive the encanto, as people say here, but the area techniques must have some merit since two regional ice cream makers recently starred among the seven best in South America. A place called La Obra in Curicó, just north up the highway, garnered top honors with the flavor “Fruicion.” No doubt some blend of fresh fruit.

“I like my ice cream like I like my summers—endless.” –Unknown

In Chile, you see, a majority of ice cream flavors are made of fruit or spices. The array astonishes: lúcuma (a caramel-like desert fruit), blackberry (and every other berry), chirimoya alegre (a bland cactus fruit cheered up with orange), cinnamon, rum-raisin. The country’s most popular flavor is pineapple, which goes into everything at the year-end holidays. It’s the only kind you’re ever likely to find in a gallon container.

You will also encounter flavors featuring vegetables and herbs, drinks and desserts. Pumpkin biscuit, tomato-basil with Carmenere wine. Pisco sour (clear brandy with lime), arrope (grape syrup), yerba mate. Tiramisú and torta amor (love cake). They might also be named for family members (Grandma Ana and Aunt Juanita) or hometowns (Puerto Varas, Limarí Sunshine).

The other winning ice cream, called “My Home in Rari,” comes from Rocciato, another Linares heladería. I know the quaint hamlet of Rari, in the countryside outside the city, and cannot even imagine what that tastes like… Dust, adobe, leather, horses? 😊

Argentina, Here We Come

Aside from a few chains like Coppelia and Emporio La Rosa, I’m unfamiliar with true ice cream excellence in the capital. (Proving that Santiago isn’t Chile, in this domain at least.) Argentina, on the other hand, has so many fantastic ice cream shops that the few I’ve been blessed to sample don’t even figure on the list.

When we first made those cross-border trips, we escaped to the Uruguayan heladerías to catch an air-conditioned respite from the scorching 40 C. heat. But in Argentina…it was an adventure.

Our friends of the original Licán getaways lived there and used to order a quarter-kilo of ice cream (apiece, mind you!) from Trápani every Sunday night after church. Oh, the happy choices! I learned about Ferrero Rocher (chocolate-hazelnut), mantecol (chocolate-peanut butter), tramontana (dulce de leche with chocolate-dipped cookies), sambayón (sweet wine custard), and mint chocolate hail (my husband’s favorite). And I’d die for Russian cream, which comes as close to maple walnut as you’ll get in South America.

“There are no shortcuts to any place worth going.” –Beverly Sills

So this summer (January) when we traveled over to our annual conference in Buenos Aires province, it became another ice cream caper. A pilgrimage of endless gelato to discover the best along the road.

Italian Delights

We started in Mendoza, two hours’ drive past the hairpin curves of the Liberators’ Pass and the Christ of the Andes. A warm evening walk of eight or ten blocks from our hotel brought us to the highly recommended Famiglia Perin, a traditional family-run business that’s made Italian gelato for close to a century. And sí, señor, it lived up to the hype. Of course we had two or three flavors in a quarter-kilo cup—that’s the way they do it there.

On previous occasions, we’ve frequented a place called Grido. If you’re ever in Buenos Aires (affectionately? known as B.A. to us gringos), check out RapaNui, Freddo, or Cadore—the 7^th best in the world! But once we reached the old stomping grounds of Chivilcoy, naturally we hightailed it to Trápani.

“There were some problems only coffee and ice cream could fix.” –Amal El-Mohtar

Then our friends introduced us to another Italian shop recommended by their friends, local Argentines. Asti, like Trápani, replicates the experience of hitting a high-end coffee shop. Starbucks with gelato.

Both highlight several menu boards. The plain-er creams, the fruit sherbets, the chocolates, and the dulce de leches—all have their separate lists. No such things as simple chocolate or vanilla. Oreo, banana split, mascarpone, maraschino, and stracciatella (a sort of chocolate whirl). Almond chocolate, bitter chocolate, double chocolate, Nutella.

Except Asti didn’t serve Russian cream—but that forced me to experiment. Whatever the flavor or venue, it’s dense, silky, and almost always artisanal. The perfect accompaniment to an afternoon spent in good conversation. An affogato (coffee or tea with scoops of ice cream) stretches out the joy of that time too.

Around the World…

We love to try the ice cream wherever we go. In the process of sharing today, I’ve also checked out at least a dozen websites on the topic. For a fun sample, you can visit the travel blog The Adventure Beckons to read a guest post by Joel Finbloom on Ice Creams of the World.

As he notes, “Italy arguably has the best ice cream in the world, in the form of gelato.” He places Bologna first, another lists Rome, yet another swears by Milan. It’s understandably impossible to choose as amazing gelaterías abound on every street corner. Be sure to try several flavors at once—it’s the only way!

“Life is uncertain. Eat dessert first.” –Ernestine Ulmer

After Italy and her goddaughter, Argentina, the “best in show” is up for grabs. I read so many conflicting opinions that I can’t even attempt to order or organize them. One thing remains clear: every country and culinary culture has its own distinctive interpretation of the world’s favorite chilly treat. These may not be creamy, but they’ll always be icy cold and—usually—sweet.

Here’s the short list:

No particular rank of superiority here. I gave up.

• That said, one list places Une Glace à Paris in Paris, France, in the world’s top spot. Rich French crème glace makes a harmonious marriage between American frozen custard and Italian gelato. Salted caramel is the most iconic flavor. Nice’s Fenocchio Glacier offers more unusual varieties: olive, chewing gum, and vanilla with pink pepper. (And I thought Chile served some wacko stuff.) Can we squeeze Monaco in here too? It’s close to Nice, isn’t it?
• England. London has a highly rated shop called Milk Train. And Cornwall, home of scones and clotted cream, makes a clotted-cream ice cream. (I confess I cringe at the sound of that.)
• New England. Apparently, Boston is the city in the US for delicious ice cream. Who knew? Of course, the most famous New England ice creamery, Ben & Jerry’s, was born in Vermont, so perhaps it shouldn’t come as a surprise. Wonderful roadside ice cream stands dot the entire New England countryside.
• East Coast USA. Honorable mention goes to the Franklin Fountain in Philadelphia. They also tell me Maryland’s Eastern Shore serves a killer “dip cone” (soft-serve ice cream dipped in chocolate). Basically, a yummier version of our classic ice cream bar, but equally messy.

East to West

• Midwestern USA. You may be amazed to learn that St. Louis is home to the world’s best custard shop, Ted Drewes, and further, that soft-serve frozen custard is the quintessential American ice cream. Ted Drewes invented the super dense custard shake called Concrete, which Dairy Queen and McDonald’s have imitated as…you know. Milwaukee also boasts great frozen custard.
• Skip to Mexico, where their signature cold treat is a raspado (“scraped,” referring to its shaved ice). Sold at the ubiquitous street carts and open-air markets, these are Mexican snow cones, only so much better. Instead of sickly-sweet syrup, they use real fruit and fresh juice—including the typical plus the exotic like tamarind, mango, or rompope (similar to eggnog). Or order an Eskimo, a blend of raspado and condensed-milk milkshake.
• West Coast USA. Portland and San Francisco’s large international population has led to some innovative ice cream shops selling fancy-but-tasty flavors. Salt and Straw combines ingredients such as lavender, honey, and olive oil with locally sourced cream and chocolate. The Bay Area style in general intrigues with its culinary creativity. Among the many Asian ice cream shops, Uji Time stands out with its many tea flavors, served with red bean paste at the bottom of Japanese taiyaki cones.

West to East

• New Zealand uniquely blends ice cream with fresh fruit to make a soft-serve concoction they call “real fruit ice cream.” Best enjoyed with their Hokey Pokey ice cream—vanilla with honey and honeycomb pieces.
• Japan. Kakigori, the Japanese version of ice cream, is made from finely shaved ice as creamy as…well, ice cream. Usually served in a bowl, it may have toppings such as condensed or evaporated milk, fresh fruit, or red bean paste. A conventional snow cone, it’s not!

“There’s always room for ice cream—it just melts and runs in the cracks.” –my father-in-law

• India. Kulfi, India’s traditional ice cream, just may rate as one of the richest frozen desserts in the world due to its main ingredient, sweetened evaporated milk. After boiling and caramelizing, Indians flavor the milk with saffron threads and crushed almonds or pistachios to make a luscious treat that’s usually pre-molded into a popsicle-like shape or cone. It’s very sweet, almost like honey! Kulfi stands along Mumbai’s Chowpatty Beach might add seasonal fruit to the mix.
• Israel. Tel Aviv has wonderful walking beaches and a great ice cream shop called Café Yotvata, named for the dairy kibbutz where their products come from. What a marvelous combination.
• Turkey. Dondurma, Turkish ice cream, doesn’t melt! Locals refer to it as Maras dondurma, after a Mediterranean city. Its elastic texture—almost like pulled candy—derives from its curious ingredient list—goat’s milk, salap (the pulp of a purple orchid), and mastic (a pine-flavored tree resin). Men in traditional Turkish costume make dondurma at street carts or bazaars. Be prepared for a long lineup, but you can watch their performance while you wait.

…And Back Again

I planned to take us on a worldwide quest for the best. But really there’s no place like home.

A few months ago, for our anniversary we sought out Cow’s in Charlottetown, Prince Edward Island. Canada’s #1 ice cream comes in playfully named flavors—Cownadian Maple, Fluff ’N Udder, Cookie Moonster, Nanaimo Bar, Royal Canadian Mint—and it’s sooo good.

Across the border, forget Baskin-Robbins. Let’s caper even closer to home: Gifford’s, a Maine tradition. Besides the to-die-for classic combos—s’mores, cookie dough, moose tracks, sea salt caramel truffle, cannoli (how did that get to Maine?)—we have the imaginative capitalized flavors. Maine Deer Tracks, Maine Black Bear, Maine Wild Blueberry. Mississippi Mud Pie. Blue Monstah.

If I were visiting my mom, we could pick up a cone with jimmies (Mainespeak for sprinkles) at Jimmy’s in Brewer before we head over.

Or I’d settle for butter pecan at Sawyer’s in Newport. Take a break from your winter routine and dream about a long weekend caper in May. They say you can’t buy happiness…

“…But you can buy ice cream. And that’s kind of the same thing.” –Unknown

What’s your favorite?