Growing up gave me the best memories of homemade ice cream. Every once in a while, my dad would let me help make a batch of homemade ice cream. We would combine all of the ingredients – real eggs, milk, sugar, and vanilla – and pour the mixture into some kind of frozen metal bucket contraption with a small churning paddle. I never really understood how the thing worked; I just knew it took way, way too long. But the end result was always more than worth the wait. Creamy, sugar-y, pure vanilla heaven.