All language subtitles for Inside.the.Factory.S07E08.Ice.Cream.1080p.iP.WEB-DL.AAC2.0.H.264_track3_[eng]

Thank you very much.

Whether it's in a cone... Mm!

In a tub...

..or even with
your favourite pudding,

we can't get enough of ice cream,

eating almost 444 million
litres every year!

So I've come to find out how it's
made at a family-run factory

that produces over 11 million litres
of dairy ice cream every year!

I'm Gregg Wallace...

I am so happy! Oh, brilliant!

..and I'm following
ice cream, from cows...

Whoa, what do you want?

..to volcanic cooking...

Dangerous, that's red-hot.

You've got to be careful.

..and finally, freezing.

Wow! How cold is it in here?!

It's as cold as
the Arctic in winter.

I'm Cherry Healey...

..and I've come to this
sweltering greenhouse

to find out why this
lolly just won't melt.

And I'm discovering
why ice-cold treats

can quickly turn
from pleasure to pain.

You are an animal.

Why haven't you got brain freeze?
WHISTLE BLOWS

And historian Ruth Goodman...

Whoa, my first ride in
an ice cream van.

..is revving up to explore what
drives our love of ice cream vans.

Ah! Whoa, whoa, whoa!

They make 50,000 tubs of
dairy ice cream a day here,

and I'm going to reveal
just how they do it.

Welcome to Inside the Factory.

I've come to the heart
of rural Aberdeenshire,

to the Mackie's ice cream factory.

This family business
churns out more than 49 tonnes

of dairy ice cream every day.

And I'm going to learn how they
make one of their best-sellers -

the one-litre tub of
honeycomb ice cream.

So to get the scoop
on how it all begins,

I'm heading to the factory's
very own milking parlour,

where this lot of lovely ladies

are producing the fresh milk
I need for my ice cream.

HE CHUCKLES

There's been a dairy farm on site
since the 1920s.

In charge today is farm
manager, Dave Smurthwaite.

Dave. Gregg. How are you?

Do you know, I really
didn't expect to see this

at the edge of a factory.
Yeah, it's great, isn't it?

How many cows have you got here?

About 300.

In this 9,000 square metre barn,

Dave runs a state-of-the-art
set-up.

So tell me about the operation.

Well, it's a fully automated system.

The cows voluntarily go and get
milked up to five times a day.

Hang on, hang on. Voluntarily?
Voluntarily, yes.

The cows just go, wander up, when
they feel like getting milked,

will go and get milked.
It's an amazing system.

Right, this one's going in.
Tell me what's happening.

You see on this side of its
neck, there's a responder,

that responder reads
the reader up there.

You'll see the red light on the cow.
Oh, yeah, yeah! That's a laser.

And it's picking up the coordinates
of the cow's teats now.

Those flashing
lights are like a milk cow disco.

DISCO MUSIC PLAYS

There are five of these
robots dotted through the barn.

Each uses infrared light to
attach itself to the cows teats...

It's properly lining it up. Wow!

..and it adjusts automatically
if the cow MOOVES during milking.

Isn't that extraordinary?
Amazing, technology, what it does.

Go ahead. Bull's-eye.

The cows have been trained
with tasty barley treats

as an incentive.

She's thinking, "This is great."
She's getting some sweeties there.

So when their udders feel full,
they know what to do.

So as soon as that
cow goes in there,

the computer picks up
the chip in her collar...

Yes. ..and knows who it is. Yes.

Effectively, like your fitness
watch,

it's recording how
many steps it's doing,

how many minutes it's spent eating,

it's telling us how much
milk it's projected to give

every time it goes to the robot.

It takes around seven minutes,

and each cow can be milked
up to five times a day.

Oh, the teats are falling off.

That's done, right?

And off she goes.

With each cow
producing around 39 litres,

the herd of Holsteins has a total
yield of some 11,000 litres

every day,

all of which goes to
the ice cream factory.

So how many cows are
you going to need to milk

to give me my proper
batch of ice cream?

Well, we would need to milk 40
cows to get your batch made.

That's easy for you, isn't it?
No problem.

We'll have that in half an hour.

Whoa! What do you want?

Do I look like a milking robot?!

For my 5,000-litre batch,

I need 1,500 litres of milk.

And as the robots whir into action,

the countdown from
cows to ice cream begins.

Have you always been this tall?
Cos you make me look really little.

Yeah, well, it's all the ice
cream I've eaten, you know?

We all love to tuck into
an ice cream on a hot day,

but eating it too quickly can
give you a terrible headache.

Well, Cherry may have an answer
to this perplexing problem.

There's one kind of ache
that even an ice hockey helmet

can't protect you against.

Brain freeze.

Every time you take a sip of an
ice-cold treat, you run the risk.

Very quickly,
pleasure turns to pain.

WHISTLE BLOWS

Before the coronavirus pandemic,
I visited the University of Hull

to meet headache
guru Dr Fayyaz Ahmed.

Ever since I was small,
I've wondered what is going

on with brain freeze,
why do we get it?

It's a protective, normal mechanism.

So when the ice cream comes,
it touches the top of the mouth

and the back of the throat,
and that's the sensitive areas.

Because of the rush of the blood,

the pain receptors,
which are in the blood vessels,

perceive it as a pain. Yes.

They communicate with a
nerve called trigeminal nerve.

Here you can see the trigeminal
nerve, which is shown in white,

goes to your forehead...
Yeah. ..and the eyes.

So therefore, you feel the pain
mainly in your forehead. Right!

So the actual sensation is
happening here in the mouth,

but because it goes
up the trigeminal nerve,

it feels like it's happening
in your head, but it's not.

There's nothing actually
going on in your brain.

Nothing. The brain is
just saying, "Stop it."

Stop eating the ice cream.

This is like a panic button.

But once the brain's
panic button is pressed,

is there a way to stop the horrible
headache in its tracks?

Break time!

Who wants a slushie?!

Ooh!

To find out, we've enlisted the
help of a local ice hockey team

who have volunteered to scoff some
slushies in the name of science.

I'm afraid you today are
our brain-freeze guinea pigs.

Do you mind having a
bit of brain freeze?

For you. Thank you so much.

In the name of science!

Dr Ahmed has suggested
three techniques

to get rid of brain freeze.

Each one warms the blood
vessels in the mouth.

But which is most effective?

One for you...

We've split the
players into three groups,

and we'll time which
technique is the fastest.

Method number one...

When you get the brain freeze,
you put your fingers up,

and then put your tongue under,
touching your roof of the mouth,

but keeping your mouth closed.

Three, two, one.
Drink those slushies!

Don't forget to put your finger
up when you get brain freeze.

You got it. We've got one.
One down, one down.

She's got it. She's got it!
That's another one.

Are you putting your tongue
at the roof of your mouth?

Yes, you are too. Good.

You are an animal.

Why haven't you got brain
freeze? Yours is gone? Gone.

Can you please describe
what just happened?

It went straight away.
It went. It cleared.

Ahmed, what is method number two?

As soon as you feel the brain
freeze coming,

close your nose or
your mouth, like that,

and breathe and re-breathe into it.

Here you go. Little pot of pain.

Three, two, one.

It's brain freeze o' clock!

Oh, yeah.

It's gone.

I think it was almost quicker
than the tongue on the palate.

For the last test,

our players will drink warm
water when the pain strikes.

Anyone?

Yeah, there it is.

Still got brain freeze?

Is it gone? It's gone.

Tests complete,
and the timings are in.

Thank you very much,
you can have that.

First, we tried the tongue on
the roof of your mouth technique.

On an average, it took about 13
seconds to end the brain freeze.

Next was blowing into your hands.

3.5 seconds.

And finally, how was
warm water as a cure?

About ten seconds.

So putting your hands
over your mouth and blowing

was a clear winner by
about six-and-a-half seconds.

And I can hypothesise that because
when you're re-breathing,

it's your own warm air
going back quickly.

That's why you get it
a bit more quicker.

So your blood vessels get
a nice, warm breathe

and stop contracting.
Central heating.

THEY CHUCKLE

We've given you knowledge for life.

Now get back on the ice!

There we have it, the world finally
has a cure for brain freeze!

So when you feel
the pain setting in,

cup your hands to your
mouth and blow hot air,

warming up your soft palate,

and hey presto.

I think I might have had
enough slushie for one day.

COW MOOS

Back in Aberdeenshire,

I'm 30 minutes into
production of my ice cream.

The cows have been robo-milked
and 1,500 litres are pumped

from the shed into
the mixing area...

..where the milk is combined
with 500 litres of cream.

And I'm meeting Kirsten Mackie,
whose family runs the business.

You must be Kirsten. Kirsten, hello!

Oh, hey, Gregg! Can I come up?
Nice to meet you.

Yeah, come on up.

Today, we're going
to make honeycomb.

Oh! Yeah, that is our
second best seller.

I am so happy!

Oh, brilliant! I am so happy.

Well, I'm delighted!

But before we get to the honeycomb,
we need the ice cream,

so it's time to start
adding ingredients.

Ah-haha!

This is the skimmed
milk powder going in.

What happens if we didn't put it in?

If we didn't put it in,
your ice cream is more prone

to go rough texture,
sandy, gritty, icy.

And we don't want that.

Next, 300 kilos of sugar
from British sugar beet

arrives by pipe from a silo outside.

Kind of want to lick it.

Not allowed, are we?
None of that in the factory.

You can't dip your finger...?
You can taste it later, OK?

This is torture for someone
with a sweet tooth like me.

What are you doing?
This is the emulsifying stabiliser.

Would you like to put it in? Yeah.

The emulsifiers find
the fat from the cream

and the water from the milk.

Sure, things that would normally
sit one on top of the other,

you have to blend, emulsify. Yep.

We have to make it
all come together.

If we didn't, it would separate out.

I gotcha!

You'll see a lot of the other
things that we do to the ice cream

make it really, really smooth and
rich and creamy.

Smooth and rich, that's what
I've always dreamed of being.

Let's go.

SHE LAUGHS

Moving smoothly along to
the other side of the vessel,

we add two more
important ingredients.

First, glycerine, which
makes up 1% of the mix.

You see that yellow pump there?

If you just twist that...

Isn't glycerine sugar?

Glycerine is actually
derived from rapeseed,

and it's not as sweet as sugar.

What do you use it for?

Glycerine freezes at -36,

and most people's domestic
freezers are, what, -18, -20?

So it won't be frozen,
and it'll just help it

with that little bit
of scoop-ability.

And finally, five
kilos of whole egg.

It's a very small amount of egg
that we add to the whole batch.

Yeah, isn't it? However,
it does add to the taste.

In there? Yes, please,
pop it in there.

Kirsten and the team make around
ten batches of ice cream a day,

a tantalising 50,000 litres.

So here we're heating it up
to a very special temperature.

What temperature?

Well, that's a secret,
but it's really special

because that's where the
Maillard reaction starts.

I've heard of this.
What's a Maillard reaction?

Maillard reaction is when
the proteins from the milk

reacts with the sugars,

and it gives this really
subtle caramelised note.

It's a bit like when you're toasting
marshmallows, you know,

you get that lovely
caramelised extra.

And that's called
the Maillard reaction?

It's this reaction between
amino acids and sugars

that gives cooked food, whether it's
a marshmallow or a roast potato,

it's distinct flavour and aroma.

You're clever.

Thank you.

I'll put the jug down.

It's a complex business,
this ice cream making.

After 20 minutes, the
mixture is pasteurised,

where it's heated
to around 80 degrees

to kill off any harmful bacteria.

And then it's pumped to this
machine called a homogenizer.

Breaking down the fat
globules into millions

of tiny little, small fat globules.

Do you think you might be able
to do that to my beer belly?

Why do they need to be tiny?

This is one that
we just did yesterday,

and we didn't homogenise it.

You can see it's
begun to separate out.

Oh, yeah.

In the olden days, when
you got your milk bottles,

do you remember how the
cream would rise to the top?

So that's what's happening here.

I get it. You need your fat broken
up and spread through your mix.

Absolutely.

With my mix thoroughly blended,

it's pumped to the ageing tanks,

where it's held in a
10,000-litre vessel,

the equivalent of 125 delicious
bathfuls of liquid ice cream.

So this is where we
age the ice cream.

Hang on a minute.
We age cheese, we age wine,

you don't age ice cream, do you?

Ageing is very, very
important for ice cream.

It's probably one of the most
important things for ice cream.

And if you didn't age it?

Basically your ice cream
mix would separate out.

The mix is aged for a
minimum of four hours

and kept at a cool
five degrees Celsius,

the perfect temperature for
the emulsifiers to get working.

So that is just chilling out and
coming together in a huge amount?

Absolutely. Yeah, it's chilling out.

It may be chilling out,

but I'm excited to
have my first taste.

You can taste, like, the fresh milk.

Yeah. And actually,
it's really creamy.

There's a toasty, sweet finish
on that, not unlike vanilla.

Yeah, that will be
the Maillard reaction.

How long are you going
to keep my mix in there, then?

Your mix is going to be in
there for a minimum of four hours.

Come on, then, we'll go and
put our feet up, shall we?

Here in the UK, we
love ice cream in a cone,

so it's not surprising
that we have a soft spot

for the funny little
vans that sell them.

Ruth is in search of their story.

YANKEE DOODLE PLAYS

Oh, listen to that sound!

There is only one thing that
noise can mean - ice cream!

Fantastic!

But what has driven
our long love affair

with the mobile ice cream seller?

I'm hoping that Ed Whitby...

Ed! Good morning.
How are you? Hello!

..can give me the scoop.

Oh, wow!

What a blast from the past.

Lots and lots of memories.

Ed's family has been manufacturing
and collecting ice cream vans

for three generations.

Their earliest models date
back to the Victorian era.

There's everything from the
early 1900s through to... Oh!

..near enough the modern day.

Starts off with, like,
the penny licks.

Penny licks were ice cream sold
from carts in reusable glasses,

but it was with the invention
of the edible cone in the 1920s

that our taste for mobile
ice cream really took off.

So when does it start to become what
we know of as the ice cream van?

It wasn't really until post
Second World War,

where we'd move to things
such as the Morris vehicles,

and this is a great-looking
van, typical of the 1950s.

The vans were evolving,
and so was the ice cream.

STAR SPANGLED BANNER PLAYS

In America, aerated soft serve
ice cream was highly desired.

Air was pumped into the mix
by heavy-duty generators.

But they were too bulky to fit
into the smaller British vans.

So a van like this Bedford
CA of the '60s, very popular,

lots of them made,

but nowhere near the space
to accommodate the generator.

We're trying to take this huge,
great American technology

and then sort of jam it
into much smaller British vans?

Yes. Time for a new system.

It was Ed's grandfather
who came up with a solution.

He realised he could get
power to the soft serve machine

direct from the engine.

He called it a direct drive system.

Power from the engine is transferred
across, very simply, through and up.

You've got your van, you drive up,

you flick a switch. Yep.

And then your engine,
instead of making you move,

now it's busily working all of this.

Through the simple
pressing of a button.

You know, I mean, it's not a
tiny thing, but nonetheless,

in comparison to a generator, it's
pretty small and light, isn't it?

It's almost too simple.

Throughout the 1960s, the soft serve
vans took British roads by storm.

And Ed's
grandfather's legacy lives on.

His system is still fitted on all
new vehicles leaving the factory

to this day,

and I'm taking one for a test drive.

Whoa!

My first ride in an ice cream van.

Showing me the ropes
is Antonio Coronato,

who began working on
the vans 35 years ago.

And he is letting me try the
direct drive system for myself.

Cone in your left hand. Left hand.

And what we're trying
to do, obviously, is

build the circles up
with a little bit of a peak

to make it a nice presentation.

What customer wouldn't be happy with
that? Exactly. That is gorgeous.

Right. So we're going to
get you to do one now.

This is not going to be gorgeous.

Oh... Oh! Whoa, whoa, whoa!

Shall we start that
one again, Ruth?

Well, that didn't
go quite so well.

This is like an
accelerator on a car.

So the further down it comes, the
faster... OK, the faster it comes.

Don't let the ice cream
flow control you.

My throttle control is...improving?

There you go. Better.

But am I ready to
serve a real customer?

Ah! Oh, that's fabulous.
It's, uh, large.

Very generous! That was great.
Thank you so much.

I think my portions
could bankrupt the business.

Really sorry. That's
all right. Thank you.

SHE LAUGHS Thank you very much.

It's amazing to think
that in their heyday,

there were thousands of these
vans roaming our streets,

and still today, it brings out
the big kid in all of us.

Back on the factory floor,

I'm five hours and 20
minutes into production.

The creamy mix has aged...

Yeah, I know the feeling!

..and it's pumped to
the freezing area.

So this is our freezing machine,

this is where we
freeze the ice cream mix.

That's proper ice.

I thought you just decorated
it to make it look icy.

That is very cold.

The mix is sent into one
of six freezing machines.

Got a refrigerant gas in here,

it's ammonia, it's about -20.

Why do you use ammonia
to cool the ice cream?

It's a very, very
green refrigerant gas.

There's no emissions whatsoever.

The ice cream mix
comes in at +5

and it comes out at -5.

So is that as cold as it gets?

No, it can get much colder,
but at -5 degrees,

basically 50% is still
free water, 50% is frozen.

But if we get it even colder,

it would be too thick, too viscous,

and you wouldn't be able
to flow it around the pipes,

and you wouldn't be able
to get it into the tubs.

You don't freeze it
until its final amount

cos you wouldn't be able to get it
through the pipes of your machines?

Exactly. That's brilliant!

Everything is so practical.
I love stuff like that.

It is, well...
This might sound basic to you,

I've never been in
an ice cream factory.

It takes just 60 minutes
to turn my liquid mix

into a 50% frozen ice cream mix.

It's so important to freeze
it down as quickly as possible.

The quicker you freeze it down, the
better quality it's going to make.

This is the only part in the process
where we produce ice crystals,

so we want millions
of tiny, tiny ones,

and that's really important
for later on in the process.

Why do you want little tiny ones?

If they're tiny, you will
not detect them in the mouth,

and it'll just be like this lovely,
really smooth ice cream.

Inside this ingenious machine,
set to -20 degrees,

my ice cream cools rapidly as
it's churned against the walls,

forming millions of
tiny ice crystals.

The motion of the stainless steel
blades also adds air,

creating a light and creamy foam.

So much of what you do is
about maintaining texture.

Texture is so
important in ice cream.

The other really important
thing here is the fact that

we're adding in a certain amount
of air into the ice cream.

Pump up the volume

When it comes to texture,

the most surprising
ingredient in my ice cream

is actually all around us.

It's air.

So Kirsten is taking me to the
research and development kitchen

to show me how much we need
to make the perfect ice cream.

It's vitally important to
put some air into ice cream.

Here's a sample that
we made up earlier.

This one has got no air in it.

Crikey!

This is like a block of ice.

Not the texture you're after,
is it, in ice cream?

No, we want it as
smooth as possible.

There's no structure to ice
cream there whatsoever,

there's nothing.

The next batch has 160% air.

That's too light. And it's going
to disappear in your mouth,

and you're not going to get
the full taste of the ice cream.

The final tub has one part ice cream
to one part air, known as 100% air.

See how that compares
to the solid block.

Oh, wow, that's the stuff.

That is light and not
just creamy, but fluffy.

I bet if you ask
people what ingredients

are important to ice cream,
I bet air wouldn't come up.

If we went, "Our survey said..."
HE IMITATES BUZZER

The air has bonded with the
all-important fat globules,

and the end result is a tasty one.

So I'm learning, without air,
you won't get proper ice cream,

you'll get a solid lump. Exactly.

It's interesting, when you learn
subjects you're interested in,

how much better at it you are.

You're a good teacher.

Thank you. Thank you
very much, indeed.

And I'm definitely
interested in ice cream!

Do you have a meltdown every
time an ice cream or a lolly

drips down the
front of your T-shirt?

Well, you can chill out
because Cherry has the answer.

Summer in my house
means more washing,

and often the culprit is
the dreaded drippy ice lolly.

But what if you could make
a lolly that doesn't drip?

Cutting-edge food designers

Bompas & Parr think
they've done just that.

So I'm meeting Sam Bompas
at their South London studio.

Hi, Sam, lovely to meet you.
Hello, so good to meet you.

Their new secret ice lolly formula

was inspired by an eccentric
British inventor in World War II.

What is it?
This is the Pykrete Project.

What on earth is Pykrete?

So, in 1943, British shipping
is being hammered by the U-boats

who are torpedoing it.

So Jeffrey Pike realised that
if he mixed ice and sawdust

at the right ratios, he
could make an ice that took

way, way longer to melt, and
if you've got enough of it,

you can make aircraft
carriers out of it.

With steel in short supply,

the extraordinary idea of building
aircraft carriers out of wood pulp

and ice was seriously
considered by the military.

It was dropped after events
turned in the Allies' favour,

but the concept remained.

What you're doing is you're stopping
the rate at which the ice melts

through all that
natural fibre inside.

So when you heard that,
did a light bulb go off,

did you think, "Hang on, ice
that takes longer to melt"?

So we thought, well, what if
you weren't doing sawdust?

No-one wants sawdust in their ice.

That's not what I want,
honestly, on a hot day.

But we found natural fruit fibres,
and different fibres,

put them into the ice lolly,

and we could make the world's
first non-melting ice lolly.

To test the theory for myself,

I'm working with development
chef Danny Cheatham.

Hi, nice to meet you.
I'm very excited.

No-one's ever made a
non-melting ice lolly.

It's like the unicorn of desserts.

Where do we begin?

For the lolly mixture, we start
with an everyday ingredient.

This is off-the-shelf,
only from the supermarket,

concentrated apple juice.

Then natural fruit
colouring is added,

and the juice is
heated to 60 degrees.

That's a lovely,
fresh green apple colour.

Exactly.

Next are the special ingredients
to stop our lollies melting.

Can you tell me what is
in this magical substance?

It's mostly products that are
made from vegetables and fruit.

Dehydrated plant fibres,
called konjac and gellan gum,

are added in powder form.

What is gellan gum?

It's from a lily pad.

What?! That's amazing. Yeah. THEY CHUCKLE

Oh, it's getting a bit more
viscous, isn't it? Yeah.

So each of those little fibres
in there is like a teeny, tiny

little sponge that's soaking
up the apple juice? Yep.

The molecules are all going
to start joining together,

and then that's going
to create the gel.

Along with the natural fibres,
stabilisers called carrageenans

are mixed in to give the
lollies a creamy texture.

And the last ingredient
is malic acid,

which is naturally found in apples

and gives them their
distinct sour taste.

It's heated to 95 degrees,
and then it's ready.

And it has a really lovely,
tangy apple smell.

As it cools and hits the moulds,
my lolly mix starts to thicken.

So they are going to
go off to the freezer.

They just need to get to at
least -18 degrees centigrade.

After eight hours in the freezer,
it's time to taste the lollies.

I feel like I'm about to take
a step into the future.

Cheers. Cheers.

Flavour's really lovely, appley.

The texture is a bit strange.
HE CHUCKLES

A bit rubbery.

So the high fruit fibre
content does affect the texture,

but will it stop it melting?

To find out, Danny and I have
relocated to a hot house,

where we'll pit our future
lolly against a traditional one.

It is a very balmy
32 degrees. It's hot.

We're going to time to
see which lolly drips first.

As we release them
from their freezer bags

filled with liquid nitrogen,

I'm backing the traditional lolly,

while Dan is rooting for
his apple-green future lolly.

Right. Three, two, one - melt!

Which will drip first?

This could take a while.

Oh, my God. Quick,
quick, quick, quick! Oh!

Eight minutes and 18 seconds.

And the drips keep coming, until...

Here we go!

Ah! Oh, what a splat!

It takes 15 minutes
and seven seconds

for my lolly to hit the deck.

But Dan's future lolly
is still going strong.

I think that makes you the winner.

I think it definitely does.

Well, look, on behalf of all the
parents who do all the laundry,

congratulations and thank you.

My absolute pleasure.

So it's been an
hour and 40 minutes,

and Dan's lolly
is still going strong,

so maybe the days of a
drippy lolly might be over,

but, personally,
catching the drips is the best bit.

VARIOUS WHIRRING

In rural Scotland, we're
six hours and 20 minutes

into making 5,000 tubs of ice cream.

I started with milk.

My mixture has been 50%
frozen and pumped with air.

But there's still an
important ingredient missing...

..honeycomb.

To create this sweet delight,

I'm meeting the factory's very
own Willy Wonka, Louise Hunter.

Oh, I like the smell of it in here!

What is this place?

This is called the Sweetie Kitchen.

This is where we make
the honeycomb. Ooh!

Listen, honeycomb is what I want.

Can I help you make it?

Yes, of course you can.
If you grab that jug of water...

Water first?

Yes, you put it into here.

Louise makes all the
honeycomb from scratch

in this 25kg copper cauldron.

Right. Now what?

Grab the two tubs of sugar.

So there is no honey
in our honeycomb? No.

Is there a comb? No.

Just pour it in. OK.

Hmm. Well, that's me told.

Whoa!

Super sticky, right?

Yeah.

Next, we add seven
kilos of glucose syrup,

which helps sweeten
and thicken the mixture.

Just leave it sitting.

Oh!

The big cooker. That's
like an electric hob. Yeah.

We heat it to a scorching
158 degrees centigrade,

so the sugar breaks
down and caramelises.

How much honeycomb are we
going to make in this bowl?

About 25 kilos.

Do you know how much honeycomb
you make in the course of a year?

Yes, about 66 tonnes
a year. Of honeycomb?!

Yeah! But your teeth haven't rotted.

SHE CHUCKLES No.

After cooking for 40 minutes,

it's taken off the heat,
and things start to get dangerous.

Whoa!

The mixture is about twice
as hot as a cup of tea,

and the copper helps
to retain the heat.

So what's going in there?
This is your bicarbonate of soda.

Bicarb contains sodium,
carbon, oxygen and hydrogen,

and the heat of the caramel is
crucial to what happens next.

The bicarb is actually what
fizz up now, right? Yeah.

Is that all you put in there?

Yes, that's all it is. Really?!

And you just stir it up.

A mere 150g of bicarb is
enough to trigger the release

of carbon dioxide...

Whoa, that is
seriously hot in there.

..which is trapped within the
sugar and causes it to expand,

forming a lovely, bubbly structure.

You've made a caramel mix
with the sugar and the water.

Right. When you put the bicarb in,
that's putting CO2 in the mix

and it's bubbling up,
but, dangerous.

That's red-hot! It can be.
You've got to be careful.

You wouldn't want to
dip your foot in it. No.

SHE CHUCKLES

You're like one of
Macbeth's witches. Exactly.

SHE LAUGHS

Stirring your cauldron!

You've got to work quick with that
now, right? Yes, we do, yes.

It rises very quickly.

After three minutes of toil
and trouble, we need some backup.

Who's this? Who's your friend?

This is Deirdre. She comes
to help to spread it.

All right, Dierdre? I'm fine, you?

Whoa!

I've never seen so much
honeycomb in my life.

What will we do now, spread
it out across the table? Yeah.

It is hot like the sun.

It won't be hot for long
because this metal cooling table

has pipes of cold water
running underneath.

But we need to work fast,

otherwise the honeycomb
hardens into, um...

..a sticky mess.

How am I doing? What do you reckon?

SHE GIGGLES

Can I see?

I'm not very good, am I?

THEY LAUGH

The honeycomb is left to harden
at room temperature for 15 minutes,

but I don't think
it's ready for my pot.

You can't get big lumps of this into
a pot of ice cream, can you? No.

Just lift it up and break it.

Wait!

Oh, I like that! Oh!

I just throw one up in
the air, let it break?

Yeah!

HE LAUGHS

Oh, brilliant!

What a job!

I feel like I've been
to 100 Greek weddings.

Next, it's over to Deirdre's domain.

Deirdre, what's happening here?

I'm chopping the honeycomb
into smaller pieces.

The chopper machine breaks
down my honeycomb shards.

That's not a bad job, is it?

No, it's pretty good.

Then the chunks are sorted
into different sizes.

So what is it sieving
out, the big bits?

There's two sieves in here.

The big bits go to the factory
for the one-litre tub ice cream.

The small bit goes
for the small pots.

I've had a go at making it,
I've spread out the hot mix,

nearly burnt my fingers,
I've helped break it up,

I've shovelled it into the sieve.

Is it all right if
I taste a little bit?

Yes, you can.

It almost fizzes, doesn't it?

Nice sugary crunch with a slightly
bitter caramel finish.

Very, very nice indeed.

Before I eat any more, we sort
the big bits into 10kg boxes.

Back of the net. You're good.

Yep. Yeah, we've got ten kilos.

How much of this am I
going to need for my batch?

How many boxes? 22.

So I'll take this one over.
Yes, please.

Deirdre, Louise,
thank you very much.

I like it here. Thank you. Bye.

I just need another 21
boxes of this lovely stuff

to finish off my ice cream.

There are lots of flavours
of ice creams these days.

Honeycomb, pistachio, choc chip.

But why stop there, when you can
also add something special on top?

Cherry's finding out how
one of these best-loved

embellishments is made.

One of life's great pleasures
is ice cream with a topping.

And everyone has their favourite.

For me, my heart will always belong
to the most colourful of them,

the sprinkle.

And today I'm going to find out
the magic of how to make them.

Sprinkles were
invented by confectioners

in 18th-century France.

Today, the UK's biggest
producer is Cake Decor in Glasgow.

And Robert Simpson is their top man.

Am I about to learn
the secret of sprinkles?

You are, yes.

Each vibrant colour is
made in separate batches...

All right, let's get cracking.

..starting with the main
ingredient, icing sugar...

That's a lot of sugar.

..175 kilos of it.

First, we haul it
into a massive mixer.

It smells really nice,
because it's all so fine,

and the air is full of sugar.

Next, we add gum acacia,
a natural thickening agent

made from hardened tree sap,

to give my sprinkles
strength and rigidity...

There's no elegant way to do this.

..followed by a mix of
coconut and shea oil

to bind the fine icing
sugar into a paste.

And finally, food colouring.

We're making orange.

My favourite.

This reminds me of my fake tan.

I think I'd probably get a little
bit too orange if I used this.

Ready? Go on.

The orange colouring comes from
unscented paprika concentrate.

It's diluted at a ratio
of three-to-one with water,

before we
carefully add it to the mix.

Oop, don't spill it.

After a 15-minute spin, it's ready.

Oh, my goodness me,
that is beautiful.

It's crumbly and pasty.

180 kilos of orange sprinkle mix
is then lifted onto a conveyor.

Ah!

In she goes.

And it's slowly forced through a
giant strainer.

That...is so weird.

It's like a furry alien is
trying to get through the sieve.

The sweet strands are just
1.3 millimetres in diameter.

So what do you call this machine?

So that's a vermicelli
extruder, we call that.

Are you sure it's not
called a "sprinklator"?

We could call it that.
I'm pretty sure it is.

After leaving the "sprinklator",

my orange strands are sent
through an eight-metre-long tunnel,

which blows room-temperature dry air
onto them until they're touch-dry.

Then they're left in a drying
room for a further 24 hours

before they arrive here.

What is this amazing machine?

So this is a coating pan that we
use to break the product down.

So what's the perfect length?

We're looking for
between three mils and 12.

Yeah, that one's about right.

Back you go, you're
not ready, sprinkle.

It's a bit like a fairground ride.

CAROUSEL MUSIC PLAYS

Hold tight.

MUSIC CONTINUES

That is mesmerising.

I can't take my eyes off it.

A shiny coating of sugar syrup is
added to stop the colour running.

It crystallises into a hard shell
as it's dried for three minutes.

It's like a hairdryer.
Exactly, yeah.

That's great!

Not very portable, not good
for holidays, but fine at home.

So, last thing is beeswax.

The edible beeswax
seals the sprinkles

and stops them from
sticking together.

So, have we finished the sprinkles?

The orange ones are
now 100% ready to go,

but we don't want just orange,

so we've got another four
colours to go in this one.

Lift off!

The moment I've been waiting for.

Oh! Oh, ho, ho!

Wow, that is beautiful.

That is even cooler than I thought
it would be.

Incredible. You almost get every
colour of the rainbow happening.

It's beginning to look
a lot like sprinkles.

They make 50,000 pots of these
gloriously coloured sprinkles

every single day.

Dipping an ice cream into
a big bowl of sprinkles

is just one of life's
great and simple pleasures.

Next time I get to do that,
I love that I will know

how much work and precision
has gone into making them.

Over in Aberdeenshire, I'm nearing
the end of my ice cream production.

I've made some smashing honeycomb,

and the creamy mix
has been half frozen,

so it's flowing through the
pipes to the filling area,

ready for production manager Morag
Haggerty to bring it all together.

Morag! Hi, Gregg.
Can I put these down? Yeah.

Right down there.

Where are we?

We're in the filling room.
Filling? Yeah.

What, like when you go to the
dentist? Yeah.

SHE LAUGHS

This is where the ice cream
actually goes into the tubs.

So what happens to my honeycomb?

So, we put it in here.

Straight in? Yep.

I love this stuff. The smell
is incredible, isn't it?

Yeah. All in.

And then what happens to it?

So, the honeycomb
goes into the hopper,

it mixes with the ice cream.

So you must have to keep
filling this thing all day!

Yes, every five to seven minutes.

You must be built
like a weightlifter.

How much honeycomb
goes into every pot?

This much, Gregg.

That's quite a bit. Yep.

So as the ice cream flows, what,
it's just a pinch each time? Yes.

Enough honeycomb is added to ensure
there's a crunch in every spoonful.

And then the 50% frozen ice
cream is ready for the tubs.

So what's the first job here,
make sure you've got enough pots?

Can you put in some tubs,
please? Straight in? Yep.

You actually go through those
really quickly, don't you? Yeah.

How quickly? How fast is
ice cream coming down here?

We're doing 58 tubs per minute.

58 tubs a minute. Ooh, crikey!

Good job someone's
watching, isn't it?

How do you know for
sure that the honeycomb

hasn't gone all the way
down to the bottom?

We can tell by eye.

It's the ripple and
nipple effect, Gregg.

What do you call it?!

It really is called
ripple and nipple.

Go on, what is that?

We have a ripple across the top,

and then the nipple in the middle.

It shows us that we've got the
right amount of air in the ice cream

to give us the correct viscosity.

And that ensures that the honeycomb
is mixed throughout the pot.

Ripple and nipple.

I love that.

And now my ice cream
is fully flavoured,

I can't resist another taste.

That is lovely!

Cos it hasn't dissolved,
it hasn't dissolved,

it's still got crunchy bits.

I kind of like it half frozen.

I'm so happy!

You seem at home here.
How long have you been here?

20 years.

No way! Yeah.

Is it fun? Sometimes. SHE CHUCKLES

Is it stressful? Sometimes.

Mm!

This is dangerous.

Yeah. Are these ready to go now?

No, we still have another
freezing process to go through.

I'll put this down,
before I eat the whole pot.

With the perfect ripple
and nipple on my ice cream,

vacuum suckers add lids to my pots,

before they're sent through the wall
into an ominous-looking chamber.

To follow them,
I need to dress the part.

Morag, how come you haven't got a
balaclava or woolly hat and gloves?

I'm a good bit heartier
than you are, Gregg.

Wow! Any penguins? SHE LAUGHS

How cold is it in here?

It's as cold as
the Arctic in winter.

No wonder polar bears don't smile!

SHE LAUGHS

As tall as a house, this freezer
is -35 degrees Celsius,

nearly twice as cold as the
one you or I have at home.

That is seriously, seriously cold.
What is happening?

We need to get the ice cream down
from -5, remember, to -18.

Why do you want it at -18?

That's the temperature we
need for it to be 80% frozen.

This is the final freezing process.

At 80% frozen, the ice
cream is still scoopable,

but the ice crystals remain tiny,

ensuring a creamy and
smooth final texture.

But it's not just a funfair
for ice cream pots, is it?

No.

The journey along the spiral
takes an hour and a half,

and every hour an incredible
7,000 litres spin by.

Where do they go when they've got to
the end of this spiral, then where?

Into final pack.

Is final pack warmer than this?

Yes, it is. Let's go.

You have to go through that
to enjoy a pint of ice cream.

My ice cream exits the freezer
for the final leg of its journey.

Now, ice cream has been around for a
lot longer than high-tech freezers.

So how did we keep it frozen
before the days of electricity?

Ruth has been finding out.

In the 1800s,
Park Crescent in London

was home to the Georgian elite,

who had indulged in
extravagant dinners,

including the delights of ice cream.

But to enjoy ice cream,
they needed...ice.

Only the very
wealthy could afford ice.

You had to pay handsomely
for it in the first place,

and then you had to work
out how to store it.

How on earth did they do that?

The modern-day
Park Crescent holds the answer.

During recent redevelopment,

the build team came across an
intriguing underground structure.

Hidden deep beneath the site was
an historic ice house.

SHE GASPS

Oh, my goodness, that
is enormous! Huge, isn't it?

Danny Harrison from the
Museum of London Archaeology

is in charge of the excavation.

This would hold several
hundred tonnes of ice.

It will stay frozen in the
ice hole for a whole year.

This vast, hand-dug cavern is
nine-and-a-half metres deep.

Built in the 1780s,

it stored ice collected
from local canals and lakes.

Unsurprisingly, the ice was
dirty from the polluted water,

and the supply depended
on cold British winters.

They needed to start bringing in a
reliable source of ice into London.

So, when does that happen?

Our first records
of that is the 1820s

with a man called William Leftwich,

who brought it from Norway.

And that initial speculative
venture turned into a real business.

Leftwich was a confectioner
and entrepreneur.

He quickly recognised
the soaring demand for ice,

and in 1822

shipped 300 tonnes of pristine
ice from the fjords of Norway

direct to London.

This is from the 1826 morning post,

and Leftwich frequently advertised,
throughout the 1820s,

his wonderfully
clean ice from Norway.

He said it was so clean you could
actually drop it into drinks.

So this is something a
little bit more reliable.

Absolutely, and by the end of the
19th century, we're talking hundreds

of thousands of tonnes
of Norwegian ice coming in.

And it starts to
become very affordable.

And suddenly you wouldn't
have a world without ice. Yeah!

This is it. Ice is here to stay.

The supply of imported ice rocketed,

and suddenly ice
cream became available

to a whole new Victorian market.

At the London Canal Museum,

I'm meeting food
historian Polly Russell

to learn about a pioneering woman
who became known as the Ice Queen.

Hi! Hello!

There was a woman
called Agnes Marshall.

This is a very smart,
savvy entrepreneur,

and she produced this
most beautiful book in 1894

called Fancy Ices. Fancy Ices.

She also patented the first
ice cream maker for the home.

Marshall's patent freezer.

This ice cream maker
was revolutionary,

claiming the dessert could be made
at home in a matter of minutes.

Using a replica, we're
going to give it a go.

There's no, sort of,
like, mechanical freezing.

I mean, it's not like... No, no,
we're going to create ice cream

with salt, and ice, and
a custard and some fruit.

It is sort of miraculous, isn't it?
SHE CHUCKLES

Using Marshall's recipe
for cherry ice cream,

first we make a custard base,

heating double cream,
sugar and egg yolks.

We leave it to cool and move
on to the all-important flavour.

We've stoned the cherries, and we're
going to put them in a pan.

The cherries are heated,
then lemon juice and carmine,

a natural food colouring, are added.

And after they've cooled,
all the ingredients are combined.

That's our mix. Yeah.

Now we need to add salt and ice.

Surprisingly, it's salt
that's the key element here.

Now something magic happens.

That is the technical term - magic.

SHE LAUGHS

You'd be right in thinking
that salt melts ice.

But here, as it dissolves
in the water droplets,

it changes its freezing point.

The melting ice absorbs energy,
so it gets even colder.

When we pour in our mix,

its temperature drops
to -6 degrees.

Lid on.

Locking bar.

We're in business.

Churning adds air
and folds the mixture,

encouraging it to freeze evenly.

Ugh!

Is that hard work? I'm glad I've got
a partner in crime to hand over to.

And after a final churn,
it's the moment of truth.

Oh, my goodness.

Look. Ooh.

It's a soft scoop.
It's a soft scoop.

That's so good. That is so good!

And imagine this in a
19th-century house.

Long before electricity.

Yeah! This would be magic.

No longer the preserve
of aristocratic houses

or professional confectioners,

Agnes Marshall made home ice cream
making accessible to anyone

who could afford the eggs and cream.

Back at the factory, my ice cream
has been frozen to a perfect 80%.

And it's time for
a few final checks.

Oh, it's getting colder.

You got it.

-18.5.

Brilliant. Right. Now you know
you've got the right temperature,

now what do you do?

Now I want to cut it up to
make sure that honeycomb

is right through
the tub of ice cream.

What are you doing?

You'll never get that out there.

Well, hey!

There we go.

Whoa!

There is plenty of crunch in that.

Yep. Can I taste it now?

Yep!

I've tasted it every step
of the way here, haven't I?

All the creamy flavour's there and
the sugary flavour of the honeycomb.

I can't leave the stuff alone.

Now we're ready to pack.

Oh! I love packing.

I really do. Right,
what's happening here?

So they're coming out
of the spiral freezer,

along the conveyor,
into the shrink-wrapper,

where they're getting wrapped into
sixes, and then onto the pallet.

A heated tunnel is hot
enough to melt plastic. Yep.

Hang on a minute,
ice cream in a heater?

This thing is 186 degrees!

How long are the tubs of
ice cream inside the tunnel

that's melting the plastic?

Just seconds, Gregg.

Not enough to melt -18?
No. Right, got you. No.

And you're sure of that, obviously.
Yes, yes, definitely.

And how fast do we pack it?

Nine packs a minute.

Nine packs of six? Yeah.

How many tubs are
we going through here?

156 cases of six on a pallet.

Ah!

My maths can't do that.

936.

From here, the tubs
head to a cold store,

where they're kept at -25 degrees,

and after 30 hours,
my honeycomb ice cream

is arriving at dispatch.

That's my batch that fella's
loading on the truck, is it?

Yeah, it is.

That is a pretty sight. Yep.

How much have we got on here?

There's 26 pallets with
156 cases on each pallet.

So it's about 24,000 tubs of ice
cream here.

HE CHUCKLES

Not even I could eat
that much ice cream!

I'm taking it for granted,
this is a chilled lorry.

Yes, of course, it's -18, so
it'll keep our ice cream perfect.

Right, OK, and how often does
a truck leave your factory?

Anything from three
to five trucks a day.

Seriously, that much? Mm-hm.

Why is it that we
love ice cream so much?

Just makes you feel good.
Yeah, I agree.

Should we let your guy
finish loading the truck?

Yeah, let's go.

OK, Graham!

Thank you, Morag.

Us Brits love ice cream,

and apart from me,
it's Scotland that eats the most.

And the creamy delight travels
as far as Taiwan and South Korea

and is enjoyed throughout China.

They make a lot of ice cream here,

and I've been savouring
it every step of the way.

That is lovely.

I've had a smashing time...

Yeah!

That is brilliant!

..with moments that
have given me chills.

Whoa! Any penguins?

SHE LAUGHS

But what I think is really
impressive is all the milk

for the ice cream comes from
their own herd of cows,

who milk themselves
whenever they want!

Now, that's incredible!