When My Parents Would Speak German
Sometimes, on Sunday night after dinner, my parents would start speaking German. It was their secret language, learned while my father was stationed in Germany. We kids quickly figured out they were discussing whether or not we had been well behaved enough to deserve a trip out for ice cream. “Please, please, please,” we would chant. Of course, if they were discussing it, it was already decided we’d be making a visit to the Sundae House. The Sundae House was an important part of my childhood. A trip there was always pure, unadulterated joy. It represented everything good, simple, and joyful.
The Sundae House was a family-run ice cream stand and 60 year 60-year-old tradition in Milford, Connecticut. It opened in 1963, when I was one. Originally, it was a fruit and vegetable stand, but it quickly transformed into an ice cream parlor. O.K., calling it an ice cream parlor is a bit of a stretch. It was truly a walk-up window in a shed with a gravel parking lot where you could get some ice cream, then sit on the hood of your car and enjoy your treat. We made a trip there for any celebration. From good report cards to the purchase of a “new” used car. It was something we did as a family unit, all 6 of us together. The available menu was simple. Vanilla or Chocolate soft-serve ice cream. Nothing fancy. Hot fudge sauce (from a can with a pump) or strawberry topping. Chopped nuts if you’re a bit extra. I’m sure there were other things like ice cream cones and milkshakes, but those never entered our orbit.
My earliest memory of those sundaes was the night my brother Peter was born. I was 4. My father arrived home full of joy and 3 sundaes for us to celebrate. We were sound asleep in bed and wanted nothing to do with a new brother or sundaes at that late hour. They got stuffed into the freezer for later. My mother was the editor of the local paper, and once she wrote an article about them. They were so proud, they put the article in their ordering window. As teenagers waiting in line, we like to say loudly so everyone could hear, “Oh look, Mom’s article”. We were certain this would earn us a free sundae, but it never did. It was always worth a try, though.
Later on, as an adult, getting a sundae with my husband and my 2 little children was a powerful full-circle moment. Those sundaes had become part of my own family’s life, and I didn’t even have to learn to speak German.
If you don't have your own Sunday House, this hot fudge is a nice way to create your own celebratory ice cream tradition.
4 (1 ounce) squares unsweetened chocolate
1 tablespoon vanilla extract or Bourbon
In a small saucepan, on very low heat, begin to melt your chocolate squares. When they are about ½ way melted, add the sugar, butter, water, and salt. Turn the heat up to medium and stir constantly. Once the chocolate and butter are both completely melted, increase the heat until the mixture is at a very gentle boil. The sugar should be completely dissolved at this point.
Let boil gently, constantly stirring for 5 minutes. You are stirring so your sauce doesn’t overboil.
Add your cream and vanilla (or bourbon) and stir till well combined and the mixture is homogeneous. It should be hot, but never let it boil again.
This will keep in a jar in the fridge for a week. You can rewarm in a microwave or eat with a spoon while standing in front of the refrigerator. You do you.
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