Strawberries and wood sorrel Credit: Hannah Palmer Egan

In parts of New England, “frappes” and “milkshakes” are more or less synonymous. At Brigham’s, the Boston-based ice cream chain that closed its last parlors in 2013 after 99 years in business, a frappe was a milkshake, plain and simple. But in many homes, it’s a blended, milk-based froth — usually thinner than a milkshake — with some combination of ice, ice cream, fruit or coffee. To me, it’s thin enough to sip and has a head of big bubbles.

How does this relate to strawberries? Well. At the South Burlington farmers market last weekend, I snapped up a couple pints of strawberries from Lewis Creek Farm. Rather than eat them fresh (and immediately) as I usually would, I stuck them in the fridge, pending ambitions of custards and tarts, scones and muffins. Days passed and the strawberries withered from their former glory. Then, this morning — when I woke up to rain for what felt like the 678th day, I recalled the frappe. 

I jazzed it up a bit: Because it was breakfast, I threw in an egg white (this also helps with the froth). I also added a bit of wild sorrel from my back yard, which adds a tangy, lemony flavor, and a scoop of ice cream because why not. The only problem? I didn’t have a straw.

This frappe is an epic milk mustache waiting to happen. Credit: Hannah Palmer Egan

Strawberry-Sorrel Frappe
Makes 2 cups

Ingredients:

  • 1/2 cup sorrel leaves, washed
  • 1 handful strawberries, washed, crowned and halved
  • 1 cup milk
  • 1 egg white
  • 2 tablespoons sugar
  • 1 scoop ice cream

Preparation:
Place all ingredients in a blender and BLEND, BABY, BLEND.

Hannah Palmer Egan was a Seven Days food writer from 2014-2019. She was a 2017 James Beard Journalism Award finalist for her coverage of Vermont's food and agriculture industries, and received food writing awards from the Association of Alternative Newsmedia. She lives in northeast Pennsylvania with her family, where she works in the outdoor lifestyle and adventure tourism industry.