Yes, that means (gasp!) unpasteurized.
That also means that it was as un-skim as you could get it.
It was normal to get the Tupperware gallon jug from the refrigerator and have to shake it before pouring because all the thick rich cream had risen to the top. Now really, that makes no sense. The thick heavy cream rising to the top?? Leo, my ruggedly handsome dairy farmer, informs me that the water content in the milk is heavier than the cream and therefore the cream is lighter. But has more fat. A lot more fat. Hmmm, interesting. Anyhow, to get back to shaking the jug...Even now, buying milk from the store, I shake the jug to mix it before pouring, and I don't have to. Old habits and all that.
My sisters and I didn't always leave the cream in the jug with the rest of the milk; sometimes we would let it rise to the top on purpose so that we could skim it off (hence, why skim milk is called skim milk) and save it. Then when we had enough, Mom would mix together a batch of homemade vanilla ice-cream. One of us would stand by the stove stirring the concoction of milk, sugar, flour and salt. You had to stir for forever it seemed, and you couldn't stop because it would burn or all of a sudden be very hot, rise to the top and overflow onto the burner. Not that that ever happened to me of course; I am sure it was always to Kimmy or Roxie.
When the custard was just the right thickness, you would add beaten eggs and vanilla. Then it had to cool. When it was again just right, the cream was added and the whole batch was put into the ice-cream freezer and the process of freezing would begin. And no, it was not a hand-crank freezer, it was electric. How old do you think I am?
I can still hear the sound of that freezer as it worked, turning the canister filled with yummy (although technically not good-for-you) goodness, in the middle. That whirring, loud motor as it rotated caused the ice and rock-salt mixture to flow around that canister in such a way that, as if by magic, the runny custard turned into ice-cream. And it did really seem like magic. When the motor would make a whiny, slow groan like it just couldn't turn any more, you knew it was ready. Mom would quickly unplug it, and then....
...she would take the lid off and pull the dasher out of the middle. This she would always hold over a plate and then one of us girls would take it to Dad. Remember how, when you were a kid, you would always like to lick the beaters when making cake or cookies? (Okay, I still do that!) This was like that, but it was ice-cream, and it was Dad's job to clean off the dasher. I don't think he minded.
The first scoops of vanilla ice-cream, to me, where always the best. Frozen, but soft and creamy. Really, it was like a Wendy's Frosty. Mom would let everyone have some, but then would put the lid back on and let it ripen while sitting in the salt and ice brine. Later, when getting a spoonful, the ice-cream was now more frozen, harder. Still delicious.
Vanilla Ice Cream (cooked)
2 3/4 cups sugar 6 eggs, beaten
6 T. flour 4 cups heavy cream (yeah baby)
1/4 tsp. salt 4 1/2 tsp. vanilla
5 cups milk, scalded
Scald milk. Combine sugar, flour, and salt. Add 1/2 cup milk to make a smooth paste. Add paste slowly to hot milk, stirring constantly (and I mean constantly!). When custard thickens, add a little to beaten eggs, stirring, to temper the eggs (no, you are not trying to make them angry, you are trying to prevent them from turning into scrambled eggs when you pour them into the custard). Then add egg mixture to the custard, stirring quickly (you almost need two people) and cook 1 min. longer. Remove from heat and put through blender (no one wants lumps in their ice-cream, unless it is cookies or chocolate!). Add vanilla. Cool. Add cream and pour into gallon ice-cream freezer and freeze according to your freezer directions.
