There are some things in life you just assume are true. The sun rises in the east, water is wet, and if you see something with an udder, you’re looking at a cow. That last one? Turns out, not always the case.
This all started with a trip to a local farm because I had some half-baked idea about sourcing fresh cream for homemade ice cream. You see, when you run a business like Guy’s Nuts, you start thinking about expanding into other markets. And what better way to pair roasted, sugar-coated nuts than with rich, farm-fresh, homemade ice cream? It was a genius idea—until I met the cow.
Walking onto this picturesque farm, I expected to see milkmaids, rolling green fields, and maybe a butter churn or two. Instead, I got a wiry old farmer with a cigarette hanging from his lip and a stare that made me question whether or not I owed him money. He didn’t say much—just pointed me toward the pasture where the cows were lazily chewing cud, oblivious to the entrepreneurial genius standing before them.
I scanned the herd, looking for the best of the bunch. That’s when I saw it. A big, beautiful, golden-brown beast standing just off to the side, tail flicking at flies. What caught my attention, though, was the oddity dangling from beneath its belly.
“One teet?” I muttered to myself. “That poor bastard got shortchanged.”
I stepped closer, my curiosity getting the better of me. Now, let me just say, I’m not a farm guy. I know my way around a kitchen, a hardware store, and the military, but dairy operations? Not exactly my field of expertise. Still, I knew enough to figure something was off. Cows have multiple teets, plural. Not just the lonely, lonesome one swaying in the breeze.
Determined to get some answers, I waved over the old farmer. “Hey, what’s the story with this one?” I asked, pointing at the bovine oddity.
He took one long drag from his cigarette, exhaled like he’d been waiting his whole life for this moment, and said, “Son… that ain’t a cow.”
There’s a moment in every man’s life when he realizes he’s made a mistake. This was mine.
As my brain caught up with reality, the farmer slapped me on the back, laughing so hard I thought he might actually cough up a lung. “You city folk,” he wheezed. “That there’s a bull.”
Yep. A bull. A bull.
That “one teet” I was so concerned about? Well, let’s just say it wasn’t meant for milking.
I stood there, processing my choices in life that had led me to this moment. I’d proudly walked onto a farm, identified the most majestic, virile creature in the field, and mistaken it for a defective dairy cow. If there were an award for making a complete ass of yourself in under five minutes, I’d just earned it.
To his credit, the farmer let me stew in my shame for a bit before finally slapping me on the back again. “Come on,” he said. “Let’s go meet some real milk cows before you try making ice cream out of a beefsteak.”
I followed, my dignity left behind somewhere near the bull that was now eyeing me with the kind of smoldering judgment I’ll never recover from.
Redemption Through Ice Cream
After regaining some shred of self-respect, I was finally introduced to actual milk cows and got a proper education on what fresh dairy really means. The farmer, still chuckling at my expense, gave me a bucket of fresh cream to take home. I figured I’d put it to good use by making a batch of homemade ice cream, not just to drown my embarrassment but to test out my business idea.
If you’ve never made homemade ice cream before, let me tell you—it’s worth the effort. Store-bought stuff doesn’t even come close. So, here’s a simple yet damn good Old-Fashioned Vanilla Ice Cream recipe, perfect for pairing with Guy’s Nuts (or just eating straight out of the container while reevaluating your life choices).
Guy’s Redemption Ice Cream (Old-Fashioned Vanilla)
Ingredients:
- 2 cups heavy cream (preferably from a cow, not a bull)
- 2 cups whole milk
- ¾ cup granulated sugar
- 1 tablespoon pure vanilla extract
- 4 large egg yolks
- ¼ teaspoon salt
Instructions:
- In a medium saucepan, heat the milk, cream, and half the sugar over medium heat until steaming, but not boiling. Stir occasionally so you don’t end up with scalded milk.
- In a separate bowl, whisk together the egg yolks, remaining sugar, and salt until the mixture is pale yellow and slightly thickened.
- Slowly pour about a cup of the hot milk mixture into the eggs, whisking constantly. This is called tempering—otherwise, you’ll have scrambled eggs instead of ice cream.
- Pour the tempered egg mixture back into the saucepan and cook over low heat, stirring constantly, until the mixture thickens slightly and coats the back of a spoon. If you can draw a line through it with your finger, it’s done.
- Remove from heat and stir in the vanilla extract. Strain the mixture through a fine-mesh sieve to catch any cooked egg bits because nobody wants chunky ice cream.
- Let the mixture cool to room temperature, then refrigerate for at least 4 hours (overnight is better).
- Pour into an ice cream maker and churn according to the manufacturer’s instructions.
- Transfer to a container and freeze for a few hours to firm up. Or just grab a spoon and eat it straight out of the machine. I won’t judge.
Final Thoughts
Did I make an idiot out of myself at the farm? Absolutely. But did I walk away with fresh dairy, a killer ice cream recipe, and an even stronger reason to never assume gender in livestock? Also yes.
So, next time you want to impress someone with homemade ice cream, do yourself a favor—make sure you get the cream from the right source.
As for me, I’ll be double-checking before pointing out any other “cows” in the future. I think I’ve met my embarrassment quota for the year.
Enjoy the ice cream. And if you see a bull, don’t ask where the rest of its teats went.