This isn't the best ice cream photo in the world, but it was perhaps the best ice cream experience I've had in a long, long time. And to think, I was prepared to dislike it. Despite my recent revelations regarding misguided food biases, I still haven't fully learned to open my mind when I open my mouth to taste. And for the past few years I've carried a grudge against olive oil ice cream — the one time "it dish" of the culinary world. Recipe variations clogged the internet. Food writers crafted sonnets about it. Trend spotters trampolined the dish at the top of their Hot Lists. For a while olive oil ice cream was the salted caramel/chocolate bacon/sweet potato fries of frozen desserts. It was embraced by everyone but me. I had tried it at the celebrity restaurant that started the whole craze, and within 10 seconds regretted my $7/bowl purchase. While the initial flavour was pleasing, it left my mouth coated with oil and the lingering aftertaste was of ... well... olive oil. So, as Pimenton's paella class wound down and Chef José Arato delivered bowls of homemade vanilla ice cream drizzled with olive oil and sprinkled with sea salt, I figured I'd take a spoonful and politely claim to be too full to finish. If I'd been alone, I'd have licked the bowl.
29 February, 2012 / 0 Comments