Word: butterfat
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...minor Italian poet. Actually, the Italian word for ice cream means nothing more lyrical than "frozen." But at its subtle, supercreamy best, it is as different from the standard American variety as Soave is from 7Up. The best gelato, as adapted to American tastes, is much richer in butterfat, the soul of ice cream, than the familiar commercial American brands. Little or no air is pumped into it, making for a deep, intensified taste. And the flavors, natural and innocent of chemicals, can seem, singly or in combination, as impassioned as an aria sung by Pavarotti...
Superpremium makers and feeders might take butterfat for thought from a test of 28 vanillas run a couple of Sundays ago by the Washington Star. Nine food experts, including Weiss, rated his own product fifth but decreed that Häagen-Dazs belonged in second place ("pleasing texture," "natural flavor," insufficient "oomph"). Frusen Glädjé was not tested; Alpen Zauber was far down the list, in the "puffy-fluffy, sweet-misery" category, having been rated "creamy but no taste," "salty." So were several other prestige brands: Sedutto's, Bassetts, Baskin-Robbins, Louis Sherry, Breyers and Schrafft...
Industry conservatives point out that not all natural flavors are vivid enough (Mattus has failed so far to make a peach ice cream that he considers good, and Häagen-Dazs will not sell peach until he succeeds). Raising butterfat much above the 16% or 17% level can produce a greasy mix that for some reason resists flavoring. Staleness kills ice cream, and natural brands, such as Breyers or Häagen-Dazs, to some extent become unnatural when they are shipped across the country and stored for too many weeks. Ice crystals form and texture coarsens when...
Though I am a fool for swirls and toasted nutlings in 16% butterfat, and fresh peach or berry can make me weep with joy, unreformable junk food cravings still linger. As a wantonly spoiled New Yorker, I could enjoy a sublime birthday cake prepared by any of a dozen master patissiers. But for the last three birthdays I have insisted on a Baskin-Robbins Mickey Mouse with blue eyes and an orange necktie cloaking layers of English Toffee, Pralines 'N Cream and Jamoca Almond Fudge. And they have to tear me away at midnight to keep me from devouring...
...grew older, I dared more (chocolate was still best for a broken heart, but Rocky Road-chocolate with nuts and marshmallows-was good too) and I began to make brand distinctions. I didn't go by butterfat, I let my taste buds do the walking. Howard Johnson's got my vote. So did Schrafft...