Why Of Course There’s a Recipe for Dr Pepper Ice Cream

A great Texas friend (thanks, Lorri) who shares my unfortunate crack-like addiction to Dr Pepper recently sent me a recipe for Dr Pepper ice cream.

Because, well, hell yes, I want some! What could be better than ice-cold Dr Pepper but ice-cold Dr Pepper surrounded by smooth, ice-cold cream?

I haven’t tried it yet, but wanted to share the recipe with others, so that the joy will be spread around the world. Or at least WordPress.

Here you go:

Dr Pepper Ice Cream
(Recipe is for a one-gallon ice cream freezer)  
   
     1 can sweetened condensed milk (Eagle Brand or similar)
     1 pint half and half
     3 regular cans Dr Pepper
     1 cup sugar
      4 eggs
      2 tsp vanilla extract
      1 T. flour
 
Vintage Dr Pepper ad from the 1960s, via Vintage Ad Browser

Vintage Dr Pepper ad from the 1960s, via Vintage Ad Browser


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Update on My Crack Addition (Dr Pepper)

It’s been three weeks now, and I’ve had only one Dr Pepper in a moment of weakness. And here’s the thing. It’s not getting easier! I still crave it like crack. When will this end? I need a patch. (And it’s a helluva good thing I never got addicted to Virginia Slims.)

Current Problems of Life Without Dr Pepper (not an exhaustive list):

Eating a burger today without Dr Pepper was like eating warm, freshly baked bread without real butter. It just shouldn’t be done.

Dr Pepper is a connection to home; it’s the national drink of Texas (unofficial). Without it, I’m a tad bit unanchored. And trust me, no one wants to be around me when I’m unanchored.

Coke is not a substitute. Neither is Root Beer. And don’t get me started on juice.

Water tastes like … nothing. Adding lemon makes it takes like lemon-nothing.

Coffee makes me speak really fast in meetings and pee too often. And I can’t drink it past 5 p.m. or I’m up all night craving Dr Pepper (and peeing).

Tea tastes like grass. Not the good kind.

I’m having to go to bed early just to keep myself from going to the SitNBull Saloon down the street to get a take-out Dr Pepper from the mean biker-bartender. Note: I don’t even think they have takeout cups, but I could bring my own. The biker-bartender would love that, I’m sure. I can see the look on his face right now.

Drinking vodka and wine at the same levels as I was drinking Dr Pepper is not advised by the American Medical Association.

My old stand-by comfort foods just aren’t the same without my refreshing, fizzy DP. Now, when someone asks, you want to go to Noodles? How about a bowl of chili? I say, eh.

The real kicker? My husband has quit Dr Pepper, too. And weight is dropping off him like <insert good metaphor I can’t think of right now>. Me? I’m gaining weight. Because in my sick little head, if I can’t have DP, then I’m damn sure gonna have pie and peanut butter.


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How to Stop Drinking Dr Pepper in Five Days

Dr Pepper

Day 1

Announce to your six-year-old child and husband that you are finally going to kick your crack habit. Ask for their loving, non-enabling support. Tell them, with their help, your body will be pure once again! Tell them this isn’t like those 12 other times you’ve tried to quit. And tell them you are way stronger now — and not to think of that unfortunate time back in 2010. Post to Facebook and graciously accept sincere congratulations from friends across the nation. Post to Twitter and get several replies from high fructose corn syrup fanatics.

Day 2 – A.M.

Order a grande, double-shot mocha at Starbucks because you deserve it after not drinking Dr Pepper all day yesterday. And you need the caffeine to ward off the withdrawal headache. This is going to be a good day!

Day 2 – P.M.

Drink a glass of wine (health benefits) for dinner instead of your usual Dr Pepper on ice. Drink another glass of wine to congratulate yourself on being so health-focused. Drink another and decide the evening walk can wait; you’d rather watch HGTV.

Day 3 – A.M.

Try to convince yourself that Honey Green Tea really is just fine. It’s great! Really great. Sip it in gratitude.

Day 3 – P.M.

Beg husband to drive to a neighborhood café and get you a Coke. Not a Dr Pepper because that would be wrong. But just a Coke. You know, to get you through the crisis. Even heroin addicts get help coming off, right? Offer unmentionable favors in return. When he refuses, search the Internet for cheap divorce lawyers.

Day 4 – A.M.

Stop for gas at a convenience store on your way to work. Figure it won’t hurt to have one very small fountain drink of Dr Pepper to ease the developing headache and quiet the shakes. Make plans to hide all evidence of the purchase from husband and son by carefully disposing of receipt and cup. Learn the Dr Pepper dispenser is out of order. Say a curse word so loud people in the store look at you. Take a deep breath. Consider it a sign from the Universe, put down the cup, and walk away. Exhibit pride for your determination to beat high fructose corn syrup at its own evil game. Go through a drive-thru and get a bacon-egg burrito because it is now justified.

Day 4 – Noonish

Experience withdrawal irritation at maximum levels. When a man bumps into you while talking on his cell phone in the kitchen at work and does not even acknowledge the invasion of your personal space, resist the urge to yank the phone from his hand and toss it in the trashbin. Instead, give him a nasty look and walk away. Stare longingly at the Cold Drinks! vending machine on your way back to your desk.

Day 4 – 2 P.M.

Drink a lot of water and announce to your coworkers that you are on Day 5 of the New You. Then realize it is only sadly Day 4. Decide to take a break to get more fancy coffee, which likely has more high fructose corn syrup in it than a Dr Pepper. Argue vehemently with people on Twitter for no good reason about the People’s Choice Awards. Envision them drinking Dr Pepper and hate them even more. Tell them so in 140 characters or less.

Day 4 – 3 P.M.

Sext husband in hopes he will change his mind about buying Dr Pepper at the store. Get no response.

Day 4 – 5 P.M.

Repeat “I will not stop at Sonic. I will not stop at Sonic.” to yourself 20 times while driving home. Fight back road rage during worse-than-usual traffic. Listen to meditation music to soothe your soul, which is going through withdrawal, too. Flip out when there is no wine in the house for dinner. Read “If You Give a Dog a Donut,” to your son at bedtime and begin to think of writing your own book called, “If You Give Me a Dr Pepper, I’ll Lick Your Face for Free.” Hope your mom isn’t reading any blog posts you write about this.

Day 5 – A.M.

Post to Twitter that the first person to bring you a Dr Pepper over Sonic ice wins a million dollars. (Void where prohibited.) Ignore snarky responses. Lie to spouse about the reason you need to run down to the neighborhood café. When he doesn’t fall for it, have a really positive discussion about how you can fight this together. Cross your fingers behind your back when he’s not looking.

Day 5 – Noon

Throw bottled water at spouse when he suggests it for lunch. Then sit down, drink the water, write a post for your blog, and know, for sure, that you’ve really kicked it for good this time. After all, five days is a long time. Eat Bottlecaps candy while writing blog post. Make plans to buy a 12-pack tonight.

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