Fried Ice Cream Dessert Bars

Second week of the Puerto Rico trip. Shorter than my usual February trip because Eduardo cannot be gone as long and because Mami has been waiting for us. We fly home Wednesday.

Tuesday morning I took Eduardo to Hato Tejas — my childhood neighborhood — and walked him past the lot where the concrete block house used to be before María destroyed it. A newer two-story stands there now. The neighbors are different. But the light is the same. The hills are the same. The coquís are the same. Eduardo stood at the corner and said nothing for maybe five minutes. Then he said, "You lived here." I said, "For eighteen years." He said, "I keep forgetting that. You feel like you have always been Hartford." I said, "I have always been here. I am both. I am the both."

Tuesday afternoon I made alcapurrias with Marisol at her apartment. Green banana and yautía shells, picadillo filling, fried in hot oil. Twenty of them. We ate six. We froze the rest. I am packing frozen alcapurrias into my checked bag for the flight home tomorrow. They will survive the flight. They have survived worse.

Wednesday morning Marisol drove us to the airport. She hugged Eduardo for a long time. She whispered something to him in Spanish that I did not hear. Eduardo kissed her cheek. He said, "Cuídate, hermana." She cried a little. Then she hugged me. She said, "Come back in summer." I said, "Maybe, maybe." I meant no. She knew.

We flew home. Hartford was twenty-four degrees. I had not taken off the cardigan that was in my carry-on because I knew I would need it immediately. Eduardo had also packed a coat in his carry-on. Puerto Rican travelers learn to pack for two climates because we fly between them.

Mami came over Thursday. She ate one alcapurria, just one, and she ate it slowly, and she closed her eyes. She said, "This is the island." I said, "I know, Mami." She said, "Eduardo went with you." I said, "Yes, Mami." She said, "Good. He needed to go too. He had been missing it. I could see it in him." I had not said this to her. I had not said anything about Eduardo missing the island. But she saw it anyway. The mother knows.

Friday I unpacked the rest of my suitcase. Two bottles of vanilla. Six pounds of culantro and ají dulce, vacuum-sealed by me at Marisol's. Three pounds of coffee. Sazón (the quantity Mami had ordered). A small carved pilón for Sofía, because she has her own apartment now and needs her own tools. I labeled it. I wrapped it. I will give it to her at her graduation dinner in May. Wepa.

The alcapurrias came home in my checked bag and went straight to Mami’s hands, and that was the savory part of the reunion handled — the island accounted for, the smell of hot oil and green banana carrying its weight the way it always does. But Thursday night, after Mami left and Eduardo and I sat at the kitchen table still feeling the time difference in our bones, I wanted something sweet and cold and completely uncomplicated, something that asked nothing of me. These Fried Ice Cream Dessert Bars are what I make when the cooking is already done but the celebration isn’t over yet — all the crunch and festivity of the real thing, built in a pan, no thermometer required. Sofía came over Friday and we finished half the pan before I even remembered to wrap the pilón I had brought her.

Prep Time: 20 min | Cook Time: 5 min | Total Time: 4 hrs 25 min (includes freezing) | Servings: 12

Ingredients

1/2 gallon vanilla ice cream, slightly softened
3 cups corn flakes cereal, coarsely crushed
1/4 cup unsalted butter, melted
2 tablespoons granulated sugar
1 1/2 teaspoons ground cinnamon
2 tablespoons honey, for drizzling
Whipped cream, for serving (optional)
Maraschino cherries, for garnish (optional)

Instructions

Toast the coating. In a large skillet over medium heat, melt the butter. Add the crushed corn flakes, sugar, and cinnamon. Stir constantly for 4—5 minutes until the mixture is golden and fragrant. Remove from heat and let cool completely.
Press the base layer. Spread half of the cooled corn flake mixture evenly across the bottom of a lightly greased 9x13-inch baking dish, pressing gently to form a uniform crust.
Add the ice cream. Working quickly, spread the softened vanilla ice cream in an even layer over the crust. Smooth the top with a spatula.
Add the top layer. Sprinkle the remaining corn flake mixture evenly over the ice cream, pressing lightly so it adheres.
Freeze. Cover the dish tightly with plastic wrap and freeze for at least 4 hours, or overnight, until fully firm.
Slice and serve. Remove from freezer 5 minutes before serving to make cutting easier. Slice into 12 bars. Drizzle each bar with honey and top with whipped cream and a cherry if desired. Serve immediately.

Nutrition (per serving)

Fried Ice Cream Dessert Bars — A Little Sweet for the Homecoming Table