Donkey Ices

Hello everyone. Here's the first 100% all new Saturday Blog in a month. It's July. The sun is supposed to be blazing down on the jewel of the north. As I write, it's drizzling. No matter, this one is all about  donkey ice creams. 

donkey ices

However, lest you be misled by the fancy graphic, I'm not talking about ice cream for donkeys (though they do enjoy a slurp on the sands on hot days); I mean ice cream that is made out of donkey's milk. 

Don't pull the long face! You think I'm kidding? Not only is it a thing, it's the latest healthy fad - although donkey milk has long been held in high regard around the Mediterranean. The ancient Greeks understood its medicinal properties, Egyptian queens used to bathe in it, the Romans valued it as a healthier option than cow's milk. Their descendants now make very fine ice cream using it, while in Serbia it is turned into Pule, an artisan cheese, and in central Asia fermented donkey milk, Kumys, is a favourite drink. It is also being used increasingly by the cosmetics industry in skin creams and soaps (Cleopatra was right), and during the Covid pandemic sales of pasteurised donkey's milk have rocketed because it is naturally high in vitamins C, D and E.

I was surprised to learn there are nearly 200 different breeds of donkey worldwide; actually that should be 'were', because several well-documented variants have become extinct in the last couple of centuries. Italy stands out  for having both the largest population of donkeys and the greatest number of breeds (16 historically), of which the Ragusano and the Romagnola are the most common, sometimes in herds of up to 800 strong, as it takes 15 donkeys to produce a gallon of milk. For a long time, Italy was the only country producing and consuming donkey milk products in any quantity, but France, Switzerland and the USA are catching up.

milking the donkey

Donkeys require milking three times a day. The raw milk must be pasteurised to make it safe for human consumption. It is low in fats, naturally sweet and kids love it. It is given to children who are allergic to cow's milk. It is also perfect for making ice cream and Italy, home of gelato, is where to find donkey ice cream.

Italians perfected the art of ice cream making and gave it to the rest of the world in a rich variety of forms including gelato, spumoni and tartufo. Gelato is straight-ahead ice cream to be eaten by the scoop in a cone from a street-vendor or a gelateria, and comes in a multitude of different flavours. Tartufo (literally truffle) is a confection of two flavours of ice-cream and a syrup all encased in a chocolate shell. Spumoni is a moulded gelato consisting of three layers of ice cream. It originated in Naples as a red, white and green combination in celebration of the Italian flag (cherry, vanilla and pistachio flavours) but has become most wide-spread in the classic pink, white and brown combination (of strawberry, vanilla and chocolate) known the world over as Neapolitan. Such a one made with donkey's milk is said to be the height of sophisticated taste, though admittedly I've not had a chance to put the claim to the test yet.

a dish of the finest

To round out the blog, here's my latest poetic confection, concerning Naples and the plight of its young people. That city, because of decades long 'issues' over proper civic planning, has a dearth of affordable accommodation, which means that is it common for young people to have little option but to live with their parents through their twenties and into their thirties. That, combined with the conservative, catholic nature of southern Italian society, presents certain challenges to courting couples wishing to lead a happy, healthy love life. 

The poem is still a work in progress, pulling in oblique references to the commedia dell'arte as well as a bit of meteorology, in depicting the plight of young Neapolitans. You'll see I've gone for a triple-layered, colour-coded approach. It's a long way from donkeys, though there is an ice cream reference! Let me know what you think.

Neapolitan

Parked Fiats and Ferraris bounce alike on sloping side streets,

modestly newspapered windows screening the sight, at least,

of eagerly sought passionate Saturday night back seat liaisons 

between each hot harlequin and pliant upholstered columbine.

Catholic convention constrains these courtships, automobility 

seemingly the secret to a successful love life, that plus a copy 

of Il Mattino and a reel of sticky tape.  Still, they're doing OK,

happily shifting through gears to their chequered flag. Sadly,

tonight no aftermath gelatos at some cosy café along the quay,

no close-held promenade despite a lovers' moon;  a fiery wind

cries in from Africa, flegetonte  foreclosing fun, forcing young

zanies and soubrettes home early, to parents and lonely rooms.

Thanks for reading, stay cool, S ;-)