I first tried my hand at ice cream sandwiches last summer. Mainly through my own impatience, it was a recipe that never ended up over here. The premise was good – coconut ice cream scooped between my favourite chocolate chip cookies, then half coated in melted dark chocolate. Unfortunately, the ice cream wasn’t quite set enough when I set about trying to photograph. All too quickly there was ice cream melting all over the table and dripping down onto the deck, with dark chocolate splattered over haphazard pieces of baking paper. The chocolate refused to set, and I didn’t have enough time to put them back in the freezer as it was late afternoon and #naturallight was in short supply. Giving up, I tried to take a bite, but the half-melted inner squished right out the other end of the sandwich. Sticky fingers, sticky camera, sticky shirt, sticky table. It still tasted good – no matter how messy ice cream and chocolate chip cookies get, it is difficult to make them taste bad – but it was so not what I had envisaged.
Fast forward 8 months and half way across the world to Williamsburg, NYC. Thalia & I stood on the shore of Brooklyn, mesmerised by the view of Manhattan. We were at Smorgasburg, an outdoor weekend street food market. I’d just eaten my first poke bowl (SO GOOD) and tried a brisket burger with a sadly plasticky, orange-tinged bun because I figured that was pretty american, right? With the sun beating down, queuing up for ice cream sandwiches seemed like the obvious course of action. And these weren’t the melty kind. Espresso ice cream & caramel between brown butter cookies, they were rock-solid and sturdy, with no ice cream threatening to drip anywhere. Perfect for photos, non-sticky fingers and non-ice cream coated clothing.