When my Grandfather passed away, we moved my Grandmother to a location that would be easier for her to get around without help in. The next several weeks were spent helping pack her belongings and sharing in millions of memories had in their home that was hand-built by my Grandfather when my Mother was just a baby.
During my childhood we would spend our weekends going to Grandma and Grandpa's to partake in a few games of Parcheesi and eventually eating a bowl of ice cream with Grandpa. I used to watch his strong hands wield the scoop with what seemed like magic. Even the hardest of ice cream was no match for his strength.
Later on down the line when this ice cream scoop came into my possession, I learned that although my Grandfather was in fact strong, he wasn't as strong as I had once thought. The ice cream scoop that he had made so many years ago, before I was born even, literally cuts through ice cream like it was softened butter. With every twist of the wrist it slices through even the hardest of frozen desserts like it was made of fire, melting as it sliced.
Since owning it, I've discarded all other ice cream scoops as nothing quite compares to the uncanning physics built into this scoop. Although my Grandfather taught thousands of children over his lifetime skills that would allow them to provide for a family, I know he would have made a fortune selling this small scoop to the masses as nothing available to retail even comes close to it's level of perfection. Now each bowl served up in my kitchen is done with a little extra love. I hope you all someday have a piece like this in your kitchen as it brings new meaning to the food you serve to family and friends!
(Image: Sarah Rae Trover)