Go along the main road into the Cornish fishing village of Newlyn (pictured) on any summer day and you’ll see a long queue snaking into an unremarkable shop with a black-and-white sun awning. The people in the queue look worried, whereas those who emerge from the shop are triumphant as they clutch their cornets of Jelberts ice cream. This may seem like a gross exaggeration, but in my opinion – and in the opinion of many of those in the queue that forms from Easter to October every year – there is no better ice cream on the planet than Jelberts; so much so that I have been known to eat three in one day, and I don’t particularly like ice cream.
But I love Jelberts, and as the stuff that others sell has become more and more fake and fluffy, Jelberts has become better and better (while remaining the same). Cream and milk, not a lot else, in one flavour only, made just up the hill from the harbour, a few drums carted down to the shop just over the bridge and when they’re sold, that’s it for the day, which explains the worried looks. Have a couple of scoops in a tub, with Rodda’s clotted cream, preferably with the crust, and a Flake if you’re greedy. And if the greengrocer over the road is open, squash in a few ripe raspberries to add some sharp sweetness to the fudge-like creamy ice.