When we lived in Central California, we often weekend-tripped to San Francisco to visit friends. We had a standard list of must-do’s: cable car rides, City Lights Books, dim sum, Burma Superstar restaurant, the California Academy of Sciences, etc… And Bombay Ice Cream.
A tiny, blink-and-you’ll-miss-it storefront, this was where I fell in love with an ice cream suffused with the sharp, earthy scent of cardamom and the intoxicating sweetness of rose petals. This wasn’t your everyday, run-of-the-mill ice cream. It was kulfi. Some argue that kulfi shouldn’t be called “ice cream” because it’s thicker and denser than the Western ice cream ideal. But I suppose the word “kulfi” doesn’t elicit the same wide eyed excitement from everyone so Indian ice cream it is!