My family had a long-standing Christmas/New Year tradition of having supper with our dear friends, Betty and Benny. She was a superb cook, and they loved to entertain. Going to their house was a special treat. They kept a guest book, replacing it as the old one's filled up with the people they had entertained. It was fun to read the comments about the delicious food and congenial company.
They also observed their upbringing by praying before meals. At an earlier dinner party when several couples were present for a celebration, Benny returned thanks as usual. Everyone respectfully bowed their heads, expecting him to thank God for His many blessings. Instead, to our surprise, he said, "Bless this bunch while we crunch our lunch."
Betty jerked her head up. "For shame, Benny!"
He was unmoved by her scolding. "What? I asked God to bless us, didn't I?"
So, you can see he was fun loving and occasionally a little irreverent. He and my dad got along great. Amen.
At the holiday get-together in question, my mother took a freezer of homemade ice cream as her contribution to the feast. It had blizzarded a few days earlier. There were huge snow drifts at Benny's back door.
Instead of asking Betty to find space in her deep freeze for the ice cream, Mom just shoved the container into the snow, knowing it wouldn't melt. A couple of hours after the meal everyone decided they might have room for dessert. Mom and Betty slipped out the back door and discovered the lid was off. Uh oh.
Benny's dog, a German Shepherd, had found the ice cream and hadn't waited until someone offered him a bite. He had nosed the lid off and lapped up the unexpected treat as deep in the container as his nose would reach. From there he licked as far as his tongue would stretch. In two hours he had eaten about half of it.
Wait. What if it wasn't the dog? Perhaps a wild animal smelled the ice cream. Maybe it had rabies, or, I don't know, rabies or something. No worries. The dog's tongue could reach way down inside an ice cream container, but it couldn't erase the telltale stickiness from its muzzle and brow. In fact, he wagged his tail and begged for more.
To this day, I have trouble reconciling what happened next with the character of these ladies. But really, how could two thrifty wives waste perfectly good homemade ice cream?
Making certain their unsuspecting husbands remained out of sight and hearing in the dining room, they wiped off tell-tale dog hair and scraped another half inch from the surface of the remaining concoction. That was washed down the drain. Although the dog had licked the inside of the container until it sparkled, they cleaned it with a damp washcloth. Whispered promises not to tell, smirks and sign language accompanied the covert operation.
Not a wink, sidelong glance or snigger indicated anything was amiss as they served dessert.
That was years ago. I was there. I saw it. My husband and I dipped our own ice cream last and made sure it came from the very bottom of the container.
My mom is capable of taking a secret to her grave. Apparently, so could Betty. Benny and my dad never learned that the dog got first dibs on the ice cream.
You shouldn't be surprised. Rule 10: Mom has been practicing pranks for decades, even though she didn't plan this one. Maybe Betty had a few pranks under her belt as well.
White Mountain website
Here is a cool link with directions and recipes for homemade ice cream.
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