Apr 7

Apr 7 Lessons Unlearned

A hot day in old Corfu Town.

Traipsing through the little streets and alleyways stuffed to the brim with tourist-trash shops, although every now and then a shop that really takes you by surprise by its reasonable prices and authenticity.

The weather is turning. The sunshine is hot. The shade when you can find it is a little too cold.

What to do?

Stand in the sun and have an ice cream - purely for temperature regulation, of course.

Looking at all the little troughs of usual suspects - the Rum and Raisins, the Pistachios, Vanillas and Chocolate … there’s one I don’t recognise.

Ekmek Kataifi Ice Cream.

A little plastic spoon tipped with a dollop is handed over, approved and then scooped into a dish.

I suppose … as it’s based on a dessert … it’s akin to Bread and Butter Pudding Ice Cream, or Bara Brith Ice Cream. Ekmek Kataifi being a kind of vermicelli pastry … to me it had the texture of Shredded Wheat dipped in honey, and scented with lemon. For the dessert, this is augmented by a creamy thick custard - the kind you can cut with a knife, and then topped by whipped cream, pistachios and cinnamon.

All of this sound familiar.

For the little tub of ice cream … all that custard and cream was replaced with vanilla ice cream … but then what is ice cream if not custard and cream, frozen. Drizzled with honey.

Oh dear … another sugar overload.

Oh and … my thumb may look dirty or bruised. That’s because not only was I painting the gate a particularly fetching Buckingham Green, but also I managed to jam my thumb in the door.

All the more reason for a sugar overload.