Iced Coffee

While taking History of the British Empire under Dean Abadie at Ole Miss, I read Freedom at Midnight, a breezy, somewhat gossipy account of Indian independence.

The book includes a scene in Buckingham Palace in early 1947. Those present included Labor PM Clemet Attlee, Lord Louis Mountbatten, then Viceroy of India, and his cousin, King George VI, then Emperor of India. They were discussing the impending end of the British rule in India.

The King commented that he would have to drop the “I” from his signature—he would now be George R (“Rex”) rather than George RI (“Rex et Imperator”)—and that the iced coffee being served was rather weak. What struck me most wasn’t King George’s superficiality—he was not a noted intellectual—but the iced coffee. Of course I grew up drinking iced tea, but this was the first time I’d ever heard of iced coffee, and it was absolutely mind-boggling.

My provinciality aside, iced coffee isn’t that much of a jump from iced tea, since it’s just brewed coffee chilled and served over ice. You can use your favorite coffee from the supermarket, just make it twice as strong. Cool the brew before pouring over ice.

A Proper Fool

Some people make a fool with yogurt or (Lord help us) instant pudding, but to make a proper fool, you must make custard.

For six servings, scald two cups milk. Cool and add a blend of two well-beaten eggs with a half cup sugar and a teaspoon vanilla. Pour into a double boiler. As it begins to thicken, add a tablespoon of corn starch blended very well in a tablespoon of milk. Once very thick, refrigerate until firm.

To two cups sliced fruit, add a quarter cup sugar and macerate for at least a half hour. Stir if you can think about doing so. Layer fruit and custard, top with stiff cream. Chill and garnish–a dust of nutmeg is a nice touch–before serving.