Field Report: The Wizarding World of Harry Potter

With the opening of Part 7 Part 1 (P7P1), my dear friend Amber tells of her own magical journey:

As the first installment of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows hits theaters, I find it a perfect time to share my thoughts on the culinary (and other) delights of my own visit the Wizarding World this past summer.

If you can ignore the long lines, sweaty tourists, children bobbing and weaving through the crowd, and roller coaster careening in the background, your first steps into the Wizarding World, or “Harry Potter land”, as I took to calling it during my trip, will be truly magical. I had the pleasure of early entry to the park during my stay, and so all the above-mentioned distracters were not a problem at 8am. The shops and scenery are far from fake-looking, and if you are one who can maintain suspension of disbelief at least temporarily, you will be truly amazed.

The first thing you’ll see in your path is a huge barrel with “BUTTERBEER” emblazoned on the side, making it clear that Universal Studios, their Executive Chef Steve Jayson, and all the Wizarding World staffers take great pride in this concoction. “What is it?” you ask yourself. We may never know, as they’ve kept the recipe top-secret, and the only place to access Butterbeer is within the park. Not only that, it’s whipped up on the spot and designed to be consumed immediately, so guests smuggling samples outside the park (what, to study it in their magical laboratory?) will be sorely disappointed. All you need to know is that it is delicious and has been described by many loyal Harry Potter fans as a “religious experience.” What they mean by that, in my opinion, is that it’s a similar experience to reading about and imagining a beautiful exotic location and then stepping into it. Many have likened its flavor primarily to butterscotch, but also to root beer, cream soda, shortbread, Werther’s caramel candy, or some combination of the above. Personally, I’d go with a butterscotch-flavored cream soda with a salty caramel aftertaste.

They’ve made efforts to please all by offering Butterbeer frozen or unfrozen. Both are topped with a rich foamy cream that joyfully clings to your upper lip so you can wear it as a badge of deliciousness. I tried both frozen and unfrozen Butterbeer, and in my personal opinion, frozen is the way to go. For one, it prompts you to drink slower, fully taking in the butterscotch and salty caramel flavors. It’s also not as sweet and the cream sticks around longer. For me, the unfrozen Butterbeer was overwhelmingly sweet. The surest path to a diabetic coma: Drink some unfrozen Butterbeer, and then down a bottle of the Wizarding World’s other beverage prize child, Pumpkin Juice. Both are good in their own right, just do me a favor and pace yourself, won’t you?

Field Report: R&B Never Tasted So Good

Former Chicago resident, Rachel, explains her celebrity ice cream encounter:

I was getting home from a late night shift one warm night a few years back and as I'm walking, I see an ad for Edy's ice cream—buy one get one free—in the CVS window. I was immediately sold: partaking in 2 half gallons of ice cream when I get home could possibly be the best idea ever.

Fast forward to my waiting in line with a bunch of tired people, all of us ready for bed, a half gallon of moose tracks in one hand and a half gallon of vanilla bean in the other, and who walks into CVS, but R. Kelly himself. (During this time, he was going through his trial in Chicago regarding his extracurricular activities.) The body guards that surrounded him and the rest of his entourage all scattered into the various aisles as if they're on a mission. Apparently their mission was to get R. Kelly drunk, because they all start heading up to the front of the store with bottles of Jack Daniels, cases of beer, and I'm pretty sure I saw some tequila and margarita mix thrown in there as well.

R. Kelly, still standing up at the front of the store, announces "Hey y'all, I am getting #%!@ up tonight, and whatever you want, it's on me. Guys, you want condoms? You get condoms. Ladies, whatever you want, I'm buying."

All of us already in line are suddenly wondering if we should be running around, adding more to our carts, but, not sure if this is really happening. I ask the nearest bodyguard "Is he serious?" "Oh yes, ma'am, he's very serious." Some people jump out of line, but really I was perfectly happy just getting my ice cream.

In the confusion the line got readjusted, but all of a sudden, R. Kelly spots me and says "Hey, hey. Let vanilla through. Let her get her ice cream." So they let me up to the front. (I'm not sure if "vanilla" is a special term of endearment for this pale, white girl look I've been rocking for years or if he just happened to see what he was about to buy me, but I realize this might be the only chance in my life to talk to him. Wanting to thank him and let him know that under his circumstances I'd be looking to get #%!@ up as well, all I can come up with is "Thank you very much, Mr. Kelly."

"You're welcome, baby."

"You enjoy getting #%!@ up tonight."

"You know I will."

Field Report: Albino Asparagus Ice Cream!

This Halloween's spooky tale is from my friend Logan about his trip to Germany. Enjoy!

When it comes to ice cream, there really isn't much to be afraid of unless, of course, we all scream for ice cream to cool the burning acid a mysterious killer dumped on us while we were trying to run away. But even in that case the ice cream is a cool, comforting, life saving substance. I have probably only been frightened by ice cream once, but is because of that that experience that Brad and Marisa have asked me to to supplement their regular blogly offerings with this frightening tale of cold, creamy horror.

It all began in Erlangen, Germany, in the early part of the decade when I was visiting a friend of the family with my German grandmother. That person was Dieter, an Engineer for Siemens corporation. So while I was waxing my mustache and buttoning my leiderhosen, Dieter suggested something that made my monocle pop out, “Would you like to go to the most popular Ice Cream Parlor in Erlangen?” Of course I would like to go to an ice cream parlor. Germany is dotted with many little Italian Ice cream places that are either run by Italians or Turks, but either way they are probably going to have some awesome lemon ice cream.

We arrived at Eishaus Erlangen in time to stand in line while Deiter explained that Eishaus is famous for it's constant rotation of interesting flavors. I learned that Eishaus is run by Germans, but they serve Italian-style ice cream. When we got inside I was terrified by but magnetically drawn to one flavor: Spargle. Spargle means asparagus, but it's not the green asparagus that we are familiar with, it's white asparagus. White, anemic, albino asparagus that has been covered in dirt to prevent any exposure to the sun. I shuddered at the thought. Apparently Germany has so many mad scientists that they are going into the ice cream business. I wanted to take refuge in one of the other, more traditional flavors, like Stracciatella or tempting flavors like Chocolate Struessel, but I knew this was my only chance, so I went for the glory.

The asparagus ice cream turned out to be not nearly as bad as I expected. Imagine cream of asparagus soup but sweet, and not quite as vegetab-ly. The flavor was actually very delicate, I even detected some floral notes. I felt a little like a judge on Iron Chef. So the moral of the story is: If you face your fears, you can gain twenty pounds while vacationing in Germany. Next time I'm going to try their Camembert flavor.

Field Report: Carol Lee Donuts in Blacksburg, VA

My brother and blogging mentor Brian reflects on fall, football and fried pastry:

I'm here to spread the good word about Carol Lee Donuts . If you ever have a sweet tooth in Blacksburg, VA, you absolutely must go there to enjoy the best doughnuts in the world.

When I first moved to Blacksburg, Carol Lee Donuts was located near the campus of Virginia Tech. This location made for quick and convenient breakfast detours in between classes. But a few years later, the owners decided to move to their current location at 1414 North Main Street, which is a pretty long walk from downtown. There was only one thing left for me to do: when my lease ran out, I moved into the apartment complex right behind the new location.

Whenever I travel to Blacksburg these days, I always bring a cooler with me so I can take a dozen Carol Lee Donuts back home. I always get four White Delights - these doughnuts are filled with white cream (NOT custard) and topped with chocolate, and though you can't go wrong with any of your choices, I think White Delights are the best. Then I get a mix of Chocolate Icing, Glazed, Powdered Sugar and Cinnamon Sugar. I've never been a fan of fruit-filled doughnuts, but my wife always gets a few of these. After I get my dozen doughnuts, I usually get three or four more to enjoy right away. I generally get another White Delight as well as a Cinnamon Twist, a cinnamon-flavored, glazed-covered, stick-shaped doughnut that does not fit in the dozen donuts box. In recent years, the third doughnut I get is a Maroon & Orange Sprinkled Donut, which Carol Lee Donuts started making for Hokie football weekends to promote game day spirit. And I always get some milk to wash it all down.

I last visited Carol Lee Donuts the first weekend in October before Virginia Tech's Homecoming football game against Western Kentucky. Even though I had already eaten an early breakfast in Harrisonburg, VA (Mr. J's Pumpkin Muffins, which I couldn't pass up after missing out on them last October), my first stop in Blacksburg was still Carol Lee Donuts. I had originally planned on getting a White Delight and a Maroon & Orange Sprinkled Donut, but I called an audible when I walked inside. The Chocolate Iced Donuts had just come out of the oven, and I can't tell you the last time I had a HOT Carol Lee Donut. The Chocolate Iced practically melted in my mouth as I ate it, and might have even been better than the White Delight. It was my second great breakfast of the day, and the Hokie football team didn't seem to mind that my donuts lacked the football spirit - Virginia Tech won easily, 27-13.

So go to Carol Lee Donuts!!! Just one visit will make you a believer, and you'll soon be looking forward to your next trip. And if you really like their doughnuts, well...there are some nice apartments just behind those woods in the back.

Field Report: Tasmania, Australia

My new friend Emma has not only shared chocolate with me but has also written a Field Report. She told me she would happily review Tasmanian ice cream, but that the best homemade ice cream in Tasmania actually comes from her kitchen! Without further ado, the blog’s second international* Field Report, this time from the island of Tasmania:

The best place for ice cream in Hobart (capital of Tasmania) is Mures, though I think this is more because of the location—by the water at the docks—than the ice cream itself! The more adventurous flavours are liquorish and bubblegum but the BEST are bacio gelati (creamy chocolatey hazelnut goodness) and classic Blue Ribbon Vanilla. Blue Ribbon vanilla is made with buttermilk so it has a unique flavour. Vanilla is not always a boring choice!

If you are up for a road trip, Kate's Berry Farm is a must. They pick their own berries and make their own ice cream and there are fields of strawberries to prove it. A sampler of every single flavour shared between two will leave even those with the most insatiable appetites satisfied.

If you are traveling even further, Andy's Gelato in Westbury (population 1,300) is superior to both Mures and Kate's Berry Farm. Their hazelnut and pistachio gelato—I'm a sucker for nuts!—rival even those I've tasted in Venice! I have no idea how the shop keeps running in such a small town. I can only assume every single member of the township is a regular!

*Back in America, a very important election is coming up. If you've decided you’re voting for Obama and want to work for the campaign, Travel for Change (an organization separate from Obama’s campaign) is offering to fly interested parties to swing states to help win the vote. If you can’t go, you can donate your frequent flyer miles.

Field Report: Christina’s Ice Cream

My co-worker Rebecca recently sojourned to the Boston area and happened upon newsworthy ice cream! I, too have been ice creaming in this part of the country. While in Boston I ate at J.P. Lick’s which features a wide variety of flavors. I sampled the accurately named cucumber and Disco Inferno (sweet cream with a hint of Tabasco). I purchased chocolate chip cheesecake and strawberry-rhubarb. Mmm, rhubarb. But enough about my silly life! Here’s the scoop on Rebecca’s findings:

Christina’s Ice Cream in Cambridge, MA has the single largest selection of flavors I’ve ever seen in an ice cream shop, and I’ve been to a lot of ice cream shops. After much deliberation, I narrowed it down to adzuki bean and carrot cake. I tasted both, and while the adzuki was good, it didn’t have the enough of the red bean flavor that I love in those steamed sweet rice Chinese nibbles wrapped in banana leaves that I don’t know the name of. So I opted for the carrot cake with a side of walnuts, and went with the economically sensible pint size. It is more than twice the size of an individual serving but only costs a little bit more, so the ice cream lasted me my whole weekend in Boston. The flecks of carrot in the ice cream went very well with the walnuts, but my one issue with it was the raisins. Because they were mixed into the ice cream, and not provided as an optional topping, the raisins were like hard little pebbles that you had to let sit in your mouth to soften before you could chew them. I would have preferred a side of plump golden raisins to sprinkle on top…but I enjoyed it nevertheless.

Sarah, the resident Cambridgian, got a pint of her favorite flavor, burnt sugar. It was yummy but a bit sweet for me—it really did taste like someone just took a kitchen torch to a pile of table sugar. Patty split her pint between mint chocolate chip and blackberry, which was notable for just how fresh and sorbet-y it was, despite the fact it was a full-fat ice cream. Carly’s pistachio, with chunks of pistachios and a light sage-green color, was the perfect summer flavor (even though our summer weather was thunderstorms).

If you’re ever in Cambridge, I recommend a trip to Christina’s in Inman Square! Their website has a full list of flavors, including the puzzlingly named Nietzsche’s Chocolate Ascension and why-would-you-come-up-with-such-a-combination Wild Turkey & Walnut.


Note from 2012: I had opportunity to visit Christina's and, yes, it is good! In my humble opinion, Toscanini's is better, but try both and decide for yourself.

Field Report: Lobster Ice Cream

Happy Halloween! Our spooky Field Report comes from an anonymous colleague…or maybe it was a written by a creature of the damned! Bwa-ha-ha!

The real Martha’s Vineyard is about the creepiest place in the world. I definitely get creeped out easily and by a lot of things, so I might not be the most impartial judge of this place, but I have to say, it was right up there with the “It’s a Small World” ride at Epcot Center. The ways in which people from Cape Cod push Lobster on you and expect you to just nod and chew is really alarming. The day I went to Martha’s Vineyard, I ate lobster three distinctly different ways. The lobster ice cream wasn’t as good as the lobster roll, but I’m not going to lie, the ice cream definitely beat the boiled-alive lobster.

On the way back from Creepy’s Vineyard, we stopped for lobster ice cream. I’d had nothing else but an only-just-quaffable cappuccino all day. Being from the North West gives me an inflated ego when it comes to my coffee palate.

I took a bite of the lobster ice cream that was tilting on a waffle cone, and thought that if I were to die a terrible boiled-alive death, that I hoped never to be made into a kitschy ice-cream flavor. It tasted like eating regular vanilla in a room where someone was canning fish. I smiled and gave a half-hearted “yum” so that my college-boyfriend didn’t feel like his hometown specialty was sickening me. It wasn’t really disgusting, just a little chewy.

Field Report: Seattle Desserts (Non-Ice Cream)

In this Field Report, my co-worker Joe fills us in on the best bites in Seattle:

As a long time sugar junkie, it has been predestined that I would explore the dessert landscape of Seattle. In fifteen years of dining out, I have had the full range of experiences, from dismal servings that would have made Little Debbie blanch to the heavenly creations I will share with you.

Nothing compares to the experience of donuts at Dahlia Lounge . The airy puffs of pastry are cooked to order and brought to the table piping hot in a paper bag. After shaking them in sugar, the bag is opened and the aroma wafts around the table. They are served with mascarpone and a seasonal jelly for dipping. They are also a great conversation starter. Order them at the bar, and I guarantee you’ll have the attention of the person next to you. And if you are at the Lounge for lunch, pop around the corner to the Dahlia Bakery. Three things to not miss are the pain au chocolat topped with pistachios, the macaroons, and the butter-crème filled cookies. A little bit of heaven to take home.

Szmania at 3321 West McGraw in Magnolia is the crème de la crème of Seattle’s crème brulee. Their trio of mini brulee's are everything you could want, yummy rich eggy goodness in the custard, expertly torched sugar forming a fun-to-crack crust. The flavors change daily, so while the quality is always superb, the experience varies. There are some very unexpected, and unexpectedly good, flavors. I have a vague recollection of a violet flavored crème brulee, but there is a chance I am confusing that experience with the violet martini, which is a very different story.

For those of you looking for a “healthier” version of dessert—denial is a wonderful thing—Le Panier in the Market has a marvelous tarte au pomme. Beautifully presented with a hypnotic whirlpool of apples and an incredibly flakey crust, it fulfills the need for a slightly tart (pun intended) alternative.

Always remember, stressed is desserts spelled backwards.

Field Report: Landliebe, Austrian Yogurt

Following the previous entry's exploration of the difference of chocolate production outside the United States, I feel it more than appropriate to introduce our first Field Report in which Jill Becker will whisk your tastebuds to Austria.
"Liebe ist, wenn es Landliebe ist."*

I’m a romantic at heart. I confess that when I packed my bags in January 2003 to spend a semester studying abroad in Vienna, Austria, I just knew deep down that I would fall in love: with the architecture, the people, the music, the culture…pretty much any aspect of Viennese culture was up for my affection. And not long after arriving, I had indeed fallen head over heels in love. With yoghurt.

I can honestly say I did not expect to find love in yoghurt. My prior experience with the substance had been tainted by too many soupy, room temperature low-fat Yoplaits in Junior High, and by the time I reached fifteen I’d sworn it off, full stop. But yoghurt in Austria is a horse of a different color—a treat so rich in flavor and creamy in texture it is easily at home on a blog dedicated to ice cream. It helps, of course, that it’s made from vollmilch—that is, whole milk (3%) with extra cream added back in. My Austrian yoghurt of choice: Landliebe. It is made, they tell you, from the love of the land and I believe them. The purest ingredients are bottled up in 500g glass jars, ready and waiting to be eaten with your morning muslei, zopf, fruit, or straight from the jar. It comes in 11 flavors and I’ve tried them all.

It all started out very innocently. It was, after all, my duty as a visitor and student to partake in authentic Austrian cuisine. However, my roommate and I became so enamored of Landliebe that we began to consume it in abnormal quantities. Strawberry, blackberry, hazelnut, currant… flavor didn’t matter. Jars of Landliebe became entire meals. Can’t decide what to make for dinner? Have a jar of Landliebe. Running too late for class to pack a lunch? Grab a jar of Landliebe. As our recycling began to pile higher and higher (as our pants became tighter and tighter) we began to wonder if we had crossed the line. So we did the one thing one should never do in this situation: We got out the calculator. In just four months, we had consumed over one hundred and seventy jars of Landliebe. Or, as my roommate and I realized to our horror, we’d eaten the equivalent of her boyfriend’s weight. In yoghurt.

An immediate gross-out phase followed, complete with declarations that we’d never touch the stuff again. But a few days later we were back at the store, Landliebe addicts needing a fix. Our housemates thought us odd, to say the least. But to this day neither of us regret a bite. People do crazy things when they are in love.

*Landliebe’s marketing tagline: “Love is…when it’s Landliebe.” But don't listen to me; listen to the jingle!


Note from 2012: In 2010, I had a roommate who was dating a flight attendant. Thanks to him, I can say that i too have tried Landliebe and, holy cow, is it good!