Vanilla

Vanilla flavored ice cream

Vanilla

Date Tried - April 18, 2023

Location - Seated at the side of the table, leaning forward

Format - Half Gallon

Milkshake It? - Yes

Buy Again? - Yes

“It’s SO… VANILLA. And that’s why we love it. Packed with rich creamy flavor and made with quality vanilla beans from Madagascar.”

I have taken great effort to expound upon the virtues of vanilla ice cream in this newsletter—I hope that this has not gone in vain.

However, if you are still in need of convincing, take it from this guy.

You’re probably reading this in July. We have a ways to go yet, but this challenge is closer to the finish line than the start line and, as we wind things down here, we subtly close the loop on many of the subplots that have driven my highly unscientific research. To name a few: the contentious caramel swirl; the various plays on coffee ice cream; the slow revelation that I do, in fact, love chocolate ice cream.

And now, here, we close the lid on the Vanilla trio.

Technically, I have already tried Vanilla—just Vanilla (not to be confused with Philly Vanilla or French Vanilla)—since it is included in their lazily named Vanilla/Chocolate/Strawberry. But I had not yet tried it on its own. You, who have dedicated your hard earned time to reading these weekly reviews, deserve that level of thoroughness from me.

And so, frankly, does Vanilla.

We had Vanilla in the best manner possible: after a delicious meal (roast chicken, turnips, asparagus, potatoes, onions & gravy.) It was scooped liberally out of a half gallon container and plopped next to slices of mixed berry pie. Of course, as I have stressed in the past, Vanilla does not need to exist as merely an accent to a rich flavor palate. But it can.

And, whenever possible, it should.

Here’s a question: the online description of Vanilla states that it is “…made with quality vanilla beans from Madagascar.” Great. But then…what is the difference between plain old Vanilla and Philly Vanilla? Well, for one, Philly Vanilla has visible flecks of vanilla bean mixed into the base—a nice touch. Though, without a side by side comparison I can’t say for certain that it means Philly Vanilla has a stronger vanilla flavor. But the nutritional info on the packing indicates that there is slightly more fat and sugar in Philly Vanilla.

So, I feel we can say with certainty that it is slightly more delicious.

Another key difference is that Vanilla has a mixture of vanilla (vanilla extract, to be precise) and vanillin, an artificially composed vanilla flavoring that is not present in Philly Vanilla.

This chemical compound has a peculiar history; it was discovered—or, rather, isolated—in 1858 by Theodore Nicolas Gobley when he evaporated vanilla extract to a dry state and recrystallized the resulting solids with hot water. Later, other scientists discovered a way to synthesize vanillin from coniferin, a substance found in pine bark. This synthetic form was quickly replaced by one derived from clove oil.

But in the 1930s, scientists made the oddball discovery that paper industry waste that was the result of prepping wood pulp was filled with lignin, a type of polymer that is an important structural building block in wood and bark. This lignin-filled waste was a far more efficient way to synthesize vanillin and, by 1981, a single paper mill in Thorold, Ontario (located along the Niagara Escarpment) was producing 60% of the world’s supply of vanillin.

Today, these paper mill waste products are only responsible for about 15% of vanillin production, which feels more right to me. I’ve driven by paper mills—they stink. I don’t love the idea that, if I’m eating something with artificial vanilla flavoring, it might have come from one of these foul smelling strongholds.

Today’s take away should be this: if you’re going to eat a vanilla ice cream from Stewart’s, choose Philly Vanilla or French Vanilla. Both of these flavors allegedly have nothing but real vanilla throughout, not a mixture of vanilla and vanillin. But don’t sleep on Vanilla, either—it is lush and deserving of your praise.

And never forget that vanilla—an institutional delicacy that has been wrongfully equated with averageisms in our modern lexicon—is a modern miracle and should be celebrated regularly.

Just like paper.