So I decided it would simply be less of an ordeal to just make Tom an ice cream cake. I felt a bit more confident in this endeavor because my friend Darcey would be around. I've seen her whip up spontaneous and tasty snacks from gluten-free kitchen scraps and like a tennis ball. So I would make an ice cream cake. Done deal.
The main ingredient of ice cream cake is ice cream. I'm very quick like this. So I sped over to Bed Bath and Beyond on 6th Avenue and purchased an ice cream maker. Subsequently, I mentioned this consumer accomplishment to three people and all three immediately asked if I had used a 20% off coupon. The answer is no. I'm not a top decile BB&B shopper, this is totally clear.
I carried the over-priced ice cream maker home, ripped open the styrofoam and immediately attempted to make ice cream happen. This was not meant to be. Because it turns out you have to put the mixing bowl thing in the freezer for 24 hours. Shit. They should put this information in really big type on the box.
24 hours later meant basically making the ice cream during Tom's birthday dinner and then figuring out how to transform raw ice cream into a cake in some sort of lightning round before dessert. Luckily Kent was on the scene and he just kind of made the ice cream while I was outside waving around mosquito incense sticks.
I went into the kitchen, spotted Kent's completed ice cream and told Darcey I was going to pat it into the form of a cake. She insisted this would not work, even after I told her my full plan: I would pat the ice cream into the form of a cake and then stick cookies all over it. The cookies would serve as a sort of exoskeleton, holding things in a secure cake position.
Darcey was not really on board with this plan.
We did it her way.
The final result was really celebratory, I thought:
|Tom's Celebratory Birthday Not-Cake|