The Dairy Godmother

I'm not from Wisconsin and have never set foot in the Badger State. The closest connection I have is my high school's fight song that is sung to the tune of "On Wisconsin!" However, now that The Dairy Godmother has introduced me to frozen custard, I'm a big Wisconsin fan.

According to The Dairy Godmother, genuine Wisconsin-style frozen custard has at least 1.4% egg yolk (pasteurized), at least 10% milkfat, and is made in a special machine created only for making frozen custard. The result is creamy concoction that draws droves of people to the adorable Del Ray neighborhood (near Alexandria, VA).

Even President Obama got in on the frozen custard game when he brought Sasha and Malia to The Dairy Godmother for treats in 2009.

The long line moved quickly and about 10 minutes after arriving we were sitting at a picnic table digging in to our sundaes. The Dairy Godmother always has chocolate and vanilla frozen custard with a rotating special flavor. On our visit, the special flavor was white chocolate raspberry which paired perfectly with the sour cherries on B's sundae. If you're looking for something lighter, they have interesting sorbets and popsicles in rotating flavors such as lemon ginger and strawberry balsamico.

I'm eagerly watching the flavor calendar to see when to visit next. I think I'll need an excuse to be in the neighborhood on May 22nd for a taste of Cinnamon Toast.

Second Thoughts from B

I'm far from the frozen treat connoisseur that J is. Frankly, I'd rather have a bag of chips as my guilty pleasure. So while my friends to the north and at The Dairy Godmother might disown me for saying this, frozen custard is just ice cream to me.

But if it is "just ice cream," I would like to qualify that by saying it is really, really, creamy and delicious ice cream. None of that low fat, artificial color garbage. We're talking about the stuff that would make your wooden-salt-bucket-cranking grandmother proud. And on this warm night along a quaint street, nothing could be better than ... whatever you call it (except maybe a bag of Doritos).