From Cows to Cones: Crafting Ice Cream on St. Agnes

When the British Isles utter their final glorious gasp, a suitable ritual is needed to mark this momentous event. Mine is devouring an ice cream that’s vast, ludicrously creamy and delicately perfumed with rose geranium. And as I lick - slowly to make it last - I imbibe the view: a huge Atlantic sea…

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