Southern Otter Chronicles™️. A relaxing snow wallow vs the delights of snow cream? Snow cream wins, paws down, y’all! 🍨 🦦 ❄️
#HealingMorning™️ #SouthernOtterChronicles™️ #SnowCreamSeason
Healing Morning is a space to discuss those indefinable moments, topics, thoughts, that allow us to grow on a spiritual, personal and, I hope, global level. I hope to remark upon holistic healing, spiritual concepts, and stumble upon topics that inspire, intrigue and push us all to regard life in a different manner from having read what is posted.
Showing posts with label snow cream. Show all posts
Showing posts with label snow cream. Show all posts
Wednesday, January 12, 2022
Otter Chronicles™️ At Healing Morning™️ - Snow Cream vs Snow Wallow
Southern Otter Chronicles™️. A relaxing snow wallow vs the delights of snow cream? Snow cream wins, paws down, y’all! 🍨 🦦 ❄️
Sunday, December 6, 2009
Snow cream
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| Photo: www.atbmedia.com |
So, what is snow cream? It is a simple dessert, very similar to soft serve ice cream, made with snow as the base rather than mixing up wet ingredients and putting them into a machine to spin and freeze. At the end of this blog, I will include my Mom's very basic, easy recipe for everyone to give it a whirl.
We had a very light dusting of snow in my hometown of Knoxville the other day, which is obviously what prompted this blog entry. I also have a few friends who requested more info on the snow cream phenomenon, so here we are.
Snow cream is a very easy thing to create, but there are a couple of logical rules to abide by. Most peoples' first thought is going to be that snow isn't safe to eat with all the air pollution we experience. Not true. As long as you wait approximately two hours into the snow fall, then snow is safe to consume. That two hour time span allows the falling snow to clean the air of impurities, leaving the snow at the surface remarkably clean and pure. Beyond that, to anyone who is concerned about snow cream containing pollutants from the air, consider that we breathe that same air daily without the benefit of the snow falling and filtering. In that regard, I think that eating snow cream once a year, if you're lucky enough to live in an area that gets sufficient snow, isn't that big a hazard to our health. The happy benefits much outweigh any risks. Obviously, collect your snow from areas that have not been disturbed by man or animal, scooping from the first few inches of the surface deposit.
You're going to need two to three times as much snow as you would first imagine to create a good amount of snow cream - think of two or three large sized bowls such as you would use for big batches of popcorn, mounded up and packed firmly. Snow melts upon contact with wet ingredients of the snow cream base, so you'll have to sort of eyeball the process until you reach a good consistency. Once you've created your first batch of snow cream, I can predict with a fairly accurate degree of confidence that you'll be hooked!
I have the most fond childhood memories of collecting snow with my Mom, brother and sister for snow cream and then eating bowls and bowls of it in the warmth of the house. It has a clean flavor from the snow that is unlike any premium, gourmet ice cream that you'll ever taste. Beyond that, it is such a simple joy to share with family and friends, bringing everyone together in fellowship and shared laughter. Eating a sweet winter treat is guaranteed to promote laughter and happy memories.
Another Facebook friend mentioned a childhood tradition of pouring hot maple syrup or hot blackstrap molasses into snow to make a chewy sweet treat. We did this one as well. My Mom used her large cast iron skillet, packed with snow and would drizzle hot maple syrup or molasses into swirls in the snow. The hot, sugary liquid meeting the cold snow would transform the syrup into a slightly crystalized, chewy consistency that we would scoop and twirl around popsicle sticks or forks and consume. Something about snow just encourages those simple pleasures, it seems!
Here is my Mom's recipe to make enough for approximately 5-6 cups of snow cream:
Ingredients:
4 eggs
2 cups canned/evaporated milk
3/4 to 1 cup sugar
1 tsp of Vanilla
1 very large bowl of mounded, packed snow
Directions: mix sugar and eggs until sugar is well blended, then add milk and vanilla, stir to combine. Add large bowl of snow, stirring and mixing until you have a fluffy, creamy consistency.
The type of snow that you get in your area will also dictate how much snow you will need per batch. I.e., dry, light snow will dissolve more rapidly than heavy, wet snow. You'll be able to quickly see if you need to add more snow to thicken the end product. Just tailor it to your needs; each batch will vary slightly in the amount of snow required.
The above sugar amount may seem like a lot for a yield of only 5-6 cups of snow cream, but remember that snow is watery and will dilute the cream base, requiring that extra sugar for flavor. You can double or triple the cream base to make a larger batch of snow cream. For those concerned about consuming raw eggs, it is up to you to decide if you and your family and friends fall into any health risk groups and omit that ingredient. I imagine you could use egg substitute products in place of the raw eggs, or just leave the eggs out entirely. I have pulled up snow cream recipes online that don't include eggs at all in the cream base; this is just the method my Mom has always used and the one that I prefer.
This is the most basic recipe. If you Google the words "snow cream" you will find a plethora of variations, using sweetened, condensed milk, various flavors, add-ins such as cookies, candy bits, chocolate, etc. You are only limited by your imagination. Another helpful suggestion is that snow cream, like any ice cream, freezes well. We used to make triple batches when a big snow would hit the area and freeze it. It freezes a bit harder than regular ice cream, so zapping it in the microwave to soften or letting sit out for about 15 minutes helps to make it more easily scoopable. Another fun suggestion is to make snow cream popsicles by scooping the mixture into popsicle molds and freezing. They're delicious and have a wonderful creamy consistency similar to a Dreamsicle.
If you do try snow cream for the first time, or if you're experiencing it after many years, please take a moment to post a comment below. I love hearing input and feedback from my readers. This particular blog is another joyful memory to share and I'm sure it will give many of you a new happy tradition to create each year for your family and friends. Enjoy this new approach to snow and enjoy making snow cream!
Friday, December 4, 2009
Benediction
I saw on the news last night that East Tennessee might experience snow this weekend. Most adults in this area view such information with trepidation. I, however, am the exact opposite and I get quite excited when snow is heading our way. When I was a child, the weather patterns seemed to produce snow in our area much more frequently than we currently experience. Whether that is due to global warming, or whether it can be attributed to normal cycles of nature doesn't matter. That is not the focus of this blog.
I want to talk about the whole experience of snow. I once watched a science program of some type that explained in minute detail what has to occur in order for snow to fall. While I cannot repeat those intricate steps here for you, what I can tell you is that the scientist being interviewed offered his opinion that as conditions for snow to exist are so exacting, specific and random, snow could come close to being called miraculous in scientific terms. I liked that! To those who enjoy snow, it is always a delight to the senses and a miraculous thing to behold.
For me, specifically, I grew up out in the country with my family's land way up towards the top of a ridge. It is always quiet that far out in the country, very isolated from the noise of the city. We hear the trains running in the distance, but that's about it. When a snow would come, my favorite thing to do was wrap up, grab my camera and go for a walk. Our property spans a fairly large area, with woods and open fields to explore year round. As we all are aware, snow makes any landscape translate into a veritable fairytale for the eyes. Trees become majestic sculptures of ice and snow, branches dusted delicately, or heavily, depending upon the type of snow. Shrubs and bushes transform into belled out antebellum skirts that capture the mind and evoke thoughts of winter balls and romantic waltzes. Drifting mists of smoke from neighboring chimneys sting the eyes, and errant snowflakes dance lazily on errant breezes, sparkling in the dim light.
Beyond all of this is the absolute stillness. This is what always lured me from a warm house to tramp through the woods and fields with my camera....the urge to be in the midst of that very loud sense of quiet. Yes, those words are contradictory, but silence can, indeed, be very loud and profound. Snow brings a hush to the world, where even during the day, the birds tend not to sing or chirp. Thoughts would come to diamond bright moments of clarity for me when walking in a snow covered world. Only the distant sound of train whistles could be detected, as though from a distant land, while I walked, cocooned in a miniature paradise. Upon my eventual return to the house, there would be large pans set out on the back porch with which to gather snow and make snow cream. (The subject of snow cream, my friends, deserves its own blog and I promise to write one in the coming days.)
The stillness, the cold air, the soft crunch of my shoes sinking through the snow, the velvet gray clouds hovering and nearly touching the treetops would shrink my world to a snow cloaked domain. I reveled in the absolute sense of peace I always felt in those moments and would stay outside for hours, snapping photographs, walking, thinking and feeling what I call the most immediate and tangible expression of God's presence. Many seek, and find, that presence in church. For me, it comes in different ways, with the most touching and lasting being those moments outside on a snow dusted ridgetop. I always returned to my Mother's house, transformed inside from those walks in the snow. It isn't something that can truly be put into words, that moment of being held, cupped, in the hand of God. That's how walking in the snow always makes me feel.
I no longer live at home, up on the side of the ridge and my current home isn't surrounded by fields and woods to tramp through when it does snow. I miss the freedom of those days, but nothing keeps me from walking outside during or after a snow hits our area, even if that means all I can do is stand out on my back patio and absorb the sensations. Opening my office window to glance outside, indeed, snow is in the air - I can smell it. And I smile in anticipation of a chance to experience that awesome, gentle quiet once again.....the benediction of snow.
I want to talk about the whole experience of snow. I once watched a science program of some type that explained in minute detail what has to occur in order for snow to fall. While I cannot repeat those intricate steps here for you, what I can tell you is that the scientist being interviewed offered his opinion that as conditions for snow to exist are so exacting, specific and random, snow could come close to being called miraculous in scientific terms. I liked that! To those who enjoy snow, it is always a delight to the senses and a miraculous thing to behold.
For me, specifically, I grew up out in the country with my family's land way up towards the top of a ridge. It is always quiet that far out in the country, very isolated from the noise of the city. We hear the trains running in the distance, but that's about it. When a snow would come, my favorite thing to do was wrap up, grab my camera and go for a walk. Our property spans a fairly large area, with woods and open fields to explore year round. As we all are aware, snow makes any landscape translate into a veritable fairytale for the eyes. Trees become majestic sculptures of ice and snow, branches dusted delicately, or heavily, depending upon the type of snow. Shrubs and bushes transform into belled out antebellum skirts that capture the mind and evoke thoughts of winter balls and romantic waltzes. Drifting mists of smoke from neighboring chimneys sting the eyes, and errant snowflakes dance lazily on errant breezes, sparkling in the dim light.
Beyond all of this is the absolute stillness. This is what always lured me from a warm house to tramp through the woods and fields with my camera....the urge to be in the midst of that very loud sense of quiet. Yes, those words are contradictory, but silence can, indeed, be very loud and profound. Snow brings a hush to the world, where even during the day, the birds tend not to sing or chirp. Thoughts would come to diamond bright moments of clarity for me when walking in a snow covered world. Only the distant sound of train whistles could be detected, as though from a distant land, while I walked, cocooned in a miniature paradise. Upon my eventual return to the house, there would be large pans set out on the back porch with which to gather snow and make snow cream. (The subject of snow cream, my friends, deserves its own blog and I promise to write one in the coming days.)
The stillness, the cold air, the soft crunch of my shoes sinking through the snow, the velvet gray clouds hovering and nearly touching the treetops would shrink my world to a snow cloaked domain. I reveled in the absolute sense of peace I always felt in those moments and would stay outside for hours, snapping photographs, walking, thinking and feeling what I call the most immediate and tangible expression of God's presence. Many seek, and find, that presence in church. For me, it comes in different ways, with the most touching and lasting being those moments outside on a snow dusted ridgetop. I always returned to my Mother's house, transformed inside from those walks in the snow. It isn't something that can truly be put into words, that moment of being held, cupped, in the hand of God. That's how walking in the snow always makes me feel.
I no longer live at home, up on the side of the ridge and my current home isn't surrounded by fields and woods to tramp through when it does snow. I miss the freedom of those days, but nothing keeps me from walking outside during or after a snow hits our area, even if that means all I can do is stand out on my back patio and absorb the sensations. Opening my office window to glance outside, indeed, snow is in the air - I can smell it. And I smile in anticipation of a chance to experience that awesome, gentle quiet once again.....the benediction of snow.
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