A counter of steel tubs of ice cream in pink, white, green and chocolate, each with a scoop standing in it.

Twelve tubs · churned this morning · shut when they're empty

Twelve tubs of ice cream, made this morning, and we shut when they are empty

One machine, one farm's milk, and six till ten every morning at the churn. We open at noon. On a hot Saturday we are closed by four, and nobody has ever talked us into making a thirteenth tub.

See what's left today

Six of the twelve

These six are always on. The other six change with whatever the farm, the orchard and the greengrocer have too much of that week.

Two scoops of pale ice cream in a waffle cone held up against a dark background.

Milk, just milk£3.20

The one we taste every other flavour against. Farm milk, cream, sugar, a pinch of salt, and nothing else at all.

A hand holding a cone stacked with strawberry, vanilla and chocolate scoops.

Three in a cone£5.60

Any three, stacked. We will tell you honestly if your three are going to fight each other.

A metal scoop holding a round ball of ice cream with crushed biscuit on it.

Brown butter and biscuit£3.40

The first to go every day, usually by half past two. Butter browned until it smells of toffee, and biscuits we bake ourselves.

Three scoops of chocolate ice cream with dark chips in a round paper tub on a yellow background.

Dark chocolate£3.40

Made with cocoa, not chocolate, which is why it is darker than you expect and why children look at it suspiciously.

A tall pink and white scoop of ice cream on a cone, a sunny promenade blurred behind.

Strawberry, while it lasts£3.40

June to September, from the pick-your-own two miles inland. In October it simply stops being on the board.

A hand with red nails holding a double scoop of coffee ice cream in a waffle cone.

Coffee from next door£3.40

The café two doors up gives us yesterday's beans; we steep them in cream overnight. They get a tub a week in return.

Today's board, and when each ran out yesterday

Milk, just milklasted till close

Brown butter and biscuitgone 14:25

Dark chocolategone 16:10

Strawberrygone 15:40

Coffee from next doorlasted till close

Lemon sorbetgone 17:05

Plum and almondnew today

Honey and oatgone 15:15

Blackberry ripplegone 16:30

Salted peanutlasted till close

Mint, the real kindgone 17:20

Rhubarb and custardlast day this year

The board is chalked at noon and wiped as each tub empties. If you're coming for one flavour in particular, ring the counter; whoever answers will look.

Looking down into a counter of ice cream tubs, pistachio, chocolate, caramel and stracciatella, each with a paddle.

When the tubs are empty

We shut

Even at three on a Saturday in August. The sign goes on the door and the machine gets cleaned for tomorrow.

No holding

We can't put a scoop aside for someone who's parking. Whoever is at the counter gets it, including you, eventually.

No tasting spoons

Ask what anything tastes like and we'll describe it properly. Twelve tubs don't survive forty spoons each.

Five small bowls in a row, each with one scoop: vanilla, chocolate, blue, cookie and red berry.

A tub to take home

Order by ten in the morning and a litre of anything on the board is packed for you before we open. Bring the tub back and the next one is a pound cheaper.

Half a litre£7

A litre£12

Four litres, for a party£40

Tub brought back£1 off

Ring before ten

Six till ten, every morning

One batch machine that makes five litres at a time, which is why there are twelve tubs and not twenty. The milk arrives at half past five, still cold from the farm; the first tub is always milk, because it tells us if anything is off.

No powders, no bases from a catalogue, no colouring. If the pistachio is brown-green, that is what pistachios are.

A metal scoop drawing a curl of vanilla ice cream from a freshly churned tub.