Peach Ice
3 pints of peeled mellow peaches. 1 pound of sugar. 2 pints of water. 1 large cupful of bright red currant jelly. The kernels of half the peaches. 4 whites of eggs.
The peaches should be choice, yellow or red fleshed and sweet. Half of them are to be cut in pieces as large as cherries, the other half cooked. Put the water, sugar, peach kernels and half the peaches on to stew together for a few minutes, mash the fruit with the back of a spoon, put in the currant jelly and then press all (except the kernels) through a strainer. Freeze as usual, add the whipped while of eggs to to the ice and after beating also mix in the cut peaches.
Line the moulds with the cream and fill the center with the peach ice, or serve the cream in glasses or saucers as a border with the peach piled in the middle.
Some Points on Ice--cream and other Ices.
So I said to Johnny said I, Johnny you're stuck with this miserable little ice--cream saloon, and the little seventy five dollars you've put in is gone skywards, don't you know it? And you owe a month's rent beside. And here at the same time are your dollars that ought to be and your tens and hundreds sitting along on the hotel piazzas and riding by and walking right by your forsaken little den, but they won't come in. Of course they won't. Why should they when you don't know the first rudiments of the business. Johnny, don't you remember when you used to turn the freezers for two mortal hours enough sight slower than the tick of your grandfather's clock, when you ought to have been done in twenty or thirty minutes, wasting ice and salt, spoiling the cream and wearing out me? And now you'll go up for want of knowing something. Now if you was dead for instance and a smart boy had this instead it would not be this way. There are bigger resorts than this, don't you know? and some where the confectioneries and all are made under the same roof, but, let me tell you, even there the extra fine creams and ices are in a side show and are extra charges, and more so at all commoner places unless the pastry cook has uncommon ambition to shine. But you take a hotel that's got two hundred summer people, and there's two pastry cooks, but after they've worked up their barrel of flour a day in all shapes, and other things in proportion, and hot weather at that, they don't feel much like spreading themselves on fancy creams and ices, and it's the same miserable lemon custard and vanilla custard sort of frozen any way to put it through at this hotel and that hotel, and if the people are asked to visit at the other hotel they are sure to be treated to the same old thing again. Well then they go to the cafe and fine restaurant where these things are made specialties, and that's what you ought to be doing now Johnny if you knew how.
But in the first place you don't have ice--cream on hand half the time and people as they pass say "oh its of no use, they hardly ever have any there," so they quit coming because they don't like to be disappointed, you must keep it if you have to make a pint at a time in a quart cup even, as you easily can if you understand it, and it positively must be always good, always tip--top, if you expect to build up a trade, and it can't be if you make it once a day, in the morning, and keep it all day and night; for the goodness of it is its smoothness and creaminess, but that gets away when the cream is kept long Water in freezing will separate from everything else, so that you get clear ice out of muddy rivers, and the water part of vinegar will freeze and leave the acid part by itself in the center of the barrel; just that way your cream first gets grains of clear ice in it like sand, and by night your customers find rough chunks as big as pipe stems. For the very same reasons good cream cannot be made by letting it stand and freeze itself. It wants rapid work.