I didn’t finish The Ice-Cream Makers by Ernest Van der Kwast.
I read about half of the book but gave it up because the story wasn’t holding my interest. The story seemed familiar and eventually I realised I had started reading the book a few years ago but didn’t finish it then, either. I’m reviewing the book this time so that I won’t forget and attempt it for a third time.
The story began with the narrator’s 80 year-old father falling in love with an athlete he is watching on television as she competed in the women’s hammer-throw final at the London Olympic Games. I could go along with that. I felt similar emotions when I watched a certain someone play Mr Darcy on the BBC’s version of Pride and Prejudice.
The narrator was a poet who was at a crossroads in his life, wondering whether to go home and help his brother in the family ice-cream business, or continue to travel the world, making and celebrating poetry. His life, family stories and his dilemma weren’t anywhere near as fascinating as that last sentence sounded, although I definitely enjoyed reading about how the narrator’s grandfather learned to make ice-cream using snow he harvested from mountain tops.
I thought I would like the story because I like ice-cream, gelato, icy-poles and slushies. I particularly like pistachio, chocolate, strawberry, lemon, caramel, fig, English Toffee, ginger and Christmas pudding flavoured ice-creams. However, I have sensitive teeth and I usually only eat a tiny amount then give the rest to He Who Eats All of Our Leftovers to finish for me. I probably should have known this book wouldn’t be for me…