We visited Yallingup’s Ngilgi caves after brekky. The caves were absolutely fascinating, humid, and they took my breath away. The concentrated CO2 levels within the caves, the tour guide advised us wannabe cave-dwellers, was two-hundred times that of above-ground air.
Our enthusiastic guide told us about the cave’s spiritual and cultural value. The magical properties our guide alluded to were at work as I explored the cave. I know not how this magic worked. Only that when I emerged from the cave, my love of stalactites and stalagmites was stronger than ever before; peaking, if I may say. I observed also, on emergence from the cave, that I was gifted with a genuine and new found appreciation of life without claustrophobia.
It was ice-cream time after the caves.
Late in the afternoon, Simmos Ice-creamery was busy. Kids and adults were all sitting around a picnic area in their own worlds, licking their ice-creams. They have the concept right: a bunch of fancy-pants flavours brings everyone comes to the yard.
I caved and went for two scoops: mascapone fig and a top scoop of the whiskey prune.
And here we have the lip-smackingly gorgeous full-flavoured duo in a before shot—before things took a turn for the worst. Well, a small turn for the worst.
Seconds after this was taken, the ice-cream decided it didn’t like me and tried to escape. Thankfully I executed a just-in-time-spider-man save off the table. I had been lucky, but my perfect duo was tainted. Its potential enjoyment bruised.
I decided consuming the ice-cream as fast as possible was the best way to move forward without further a mishap.
My thoughts were of the softness of the ice-cream. Not in a Maccas softserve cone kind of way, more like a Bulla Frozen Custard kind of way—if you haven’t tried Bulla’s Frozen Custard, get to it, because it’s so, so soft; the texture is smoother than a baby’s bottom and for what it’s worth Coles frequently has specials, 40-50% off.
The whiskey prune was wonderfully strong. The flavour overtook my mascarpone fig dollop. Visible bits of prune throughout had been crushed into sizeable chunks adding texture and another layer of complexity to the ice-cream. The whiskey and prune were well married.
The second serve, of the mascarpone fig ice-cream, mirrored a tennis service game. Serve two was a weaker and safer option that struggled to wow. As a flavour, it was drowned out and overly plain. The light flavour would work best quenelled against something sweet. A slice or a richer cake, perhaps, an accompaniment to achieve the ‘balance’ so crucial to every dessert. All that said, it was a nice ice-cream—just a little too vanilla for my liking.
Next time I’ll hopefully pick another flavour to find something that’s interesting in its own right, something that knocks things out of the park.
There were heaps of flavours that looked great: licorice, salted caramel, orange. I’d have been up for trying them all.
Overall, yummy stuff. There’s a reason they don’t do ice-cream samples!
Taste verdict Quality ice-cream. Texture is divine and the range of flavours could make for a fun, calorie-heavy ice-cream only day.