Two of the pissed off moose in the Grand Tetons. It was our first hiking trip as a couple and these two made it even more memorable.
My name is Jason and I’m a Damn Yankee trapped in Marietta, Georgia. I’m married to my beautiful wife Claire and she is the one responsible for me living here and not in Park City, Utah where we met. I still wanted to be a ski bum, she did not. So, here I am in Georgia married to my beautiful wife and now the father of a gorgeous baby girl who already has daddy’s temper.
I blame my wife 100% for why I got into making ice cream. I know, it’s not very masculine for a guy who drives a pickup truck, always has facial hair and spends his free time at the gun range to be making ice cream but hey, at least I make ice cream with beer in it. I’ve always LOVED desserts like it was it’s own food group. As a kid growing up in northern Massachusetts my parents would take me to Kimball’s Ice Cream in Westford, MA. It is the holy land when it comes to ice cream, no room for discussion. It was around when my grandmother was young and my mother grew up going there. It has history.
When Claire and I got engaged we traveled to the local Bed, Bath and Beyond to register for wedding gifts. We felt uncomfortable doing it because we didn’t like the idea of people buying us gifts we told them to get us. But hey, if people insisted on buying us shit, why not splurge on important things like an ice cream maker and a panini press? And that’s when it started, two of Claire’s dear friends from the school she teaches at bought us our ice cream maker and I was hooked.
I should mention that my extended family here in Marietta are a bunch of foodies. My brother in law is a badass chef here in the Atlanta area and I would always try to impress him with my ice cream. I did research, I wanted to know how NOT to suck at making ice cream. How hard could it be? Turns out, once I got good at it and people started finding out I was making ice cream they were sharing stories of failed attempts at making homemade ice cream. And here I am, sharing my favorite recipes, failed creations and the techniques that I have found useful as I try to stay under 200lbs every summer.
You might also be wondering why Angry Moose? I lived in Utah for 10 years and it was awesome. I met my wife there, skied at least 60 days a year and got to mountain bike some of the best trails in the world, every freakin’ day. There’s also lots of moose in Park City. For a few years, on almost every ride I would have an encounter with a moose on the trail. Some of them angry, others not. Claire and I have also had our share of encounters of moose together. In Colorado we almost got our heads smashed in by a bull moose brushing by our tent at full speed. In the Grand Tetons, 2 moose blocked our path for over an hour causing us to hike in 6 miles of rain and lightning to get back to our campsite. Somehow I put moose and ice cream together and came up with Angry Moose Ice Cream. Hey, it works for me.
I hope you enjoy my musings. I’m horrible at grammar, swear like a Bostonian and don’t care about “healthy” ice cream. My day job is building websites but I’m too busy building other people’s stuff that I neglect my own projects. You can find me here.
Thanks for reading!
JC