It’s hot.  And windy. Very windy.  I’m at Cabo de Gata in Southern Spain and I’m dreaming of the coffee granizado ice I had yesterday in the village bar.  And the melon flavoured one I had the day before.  And the lime flavoured one the day before that.

I’m sheltering from the heat in our old camper van.  We’re on a road trip, the kids and I, in our 27 year old Winnebago, well used and well loved, and known to us as Winne or the Magic Bus.  We have left Ibiza for three weeks of travel along the southern coast of Spain, in search of wind and waves for kite and windsurfing.  We’re loaded up with surf kit and our destination is Tarifa, one of the windiest spots in the world, where the Mediterranean meets the Atlantic and the wind funnels through the tiny gap between Europe and Africa that is the Straits of Gibraltar.

But I’m concerned less about the size of the waves than the state of my vegetables. I’m always nervous leaving the garden at this time of year, when the scorching Ibiza sun bakes the earth relentlessly, turning everything to a crisp if I turn my back for just a minute.

I remind myself that all my carers plans are in place. The chickens will be fed, the eggs collected, the cat cuddled, the vegetables watered and the dog is with me. In the bus.

We pass a lot of happy faces as we travel. Our van has a crazy paint job which makes everyone smile. Despite her age, she’s still a beauty. At least we think so. Built in the States in 1983, at the height of the fuel crisis, it was the only period in the Winnebago history when they made a small camper van, or anything that didn’t resemble a Florida retirement vehicle or rock star’s tour bus.

So back to my ice dreams.  For the last few days we’ve been travelling in the province of Murcia, famous for these “granizados”, a cross between an iced drink and a sorbet.  The Spanish love them.  Summer wouldn’t be summer without them.

Of course these days too many places are selling a ghastly, super sweet, artificially coloured and flavoured version, more like a slush puppy.

But the real thing is something else.  Crystals of twinkling ice, served in a glass, with spoon or straw, depending on consistency, in flavours such as pomegranate, almond, watermelon, moscatel, cherry, fig, or any fruit that is plentifully in season.

Sometimes the granizado is given the sophisticated treatment with a dash of liqueur, either mixed into the ice or served over.  Sometimes it’s pure kids stuff, like fresh strawberry granizado drizzled with condensed milk.  One of the local favourites here is “leche merengada” which is vanilla milk flavoured with cinnamon and lemon.  In a little place near Aguilas we ordered granizados ‘caseros’, meaning ‘homemade’, and I asked the lady owner how it was made.  Of course, it was a family recipe, she said.  Her grandmother used to make it for her when she was little.  Although I  haven’t tried her recipe yet (no freezer or even an ice box on the Magic Bus), she convinced me it was extremely well tested.

I’ve been making a version of these granizados all summer.  My freezer at home has trays of fresh strawberry, nectarine and coffee ices and by the time I get back, the melons and watermelons in the field will be swollen ripe and ready to eat and I’ll be turning those into granizados too.  As a summer desert, they tick all the hot weather boxes; refreshing, light,  kids love them, dead simple to make.  And this trip has given me tons of inspiration for new flavours.

Coffee Granizado

Much as I love all the fruity flavours, I think coffee is still my favourite.  It works as a refreshing pick me up any time of day, or it’s the perfect end to a summer dinner (and saves you making after-dinner coffee). Make it with strong espresso coffee.

1 litre espresso coffee

170g brown sugar

Make the coffee and stir in the sugar while it’s still hot.  Allow to cool, pour into a plastic box with lid and put in freezer.  When ALMOST frozen, (about 4 hours in my freezer) break up with fork or whizz with electric blender. Return to freezer till frozen. When ready to serve, scrape a fork over the surface and spoon the ice shards into glasses.  Serve on its own, or with liqueur poured over, or with drizzle of cream.

Makes 8 glasses

Leche Merengada Granizado

I don’t know if this was ever meant to be a children’s flavour, but I have always thought of it that way since my earliest trips to Spain as a child.  The mix of creamy milkiness with a hint of cinnamon and lemon was a completely new and addictive flavour to me.

1 litre milk full cream, semi or skimmed

zest of 2 lemons

1 teaspoon pure vanilla essence or seeds from 1 vanilla pod

8 desert spoons brown sugar

2 teaspoons ground cinnamon or 3 sticks cinnamon

Pour the milk and sugar into a saucepan, heat and stir until the sugar has dissolved.  Take off the heat and add lemon zest, vanilla essence or vanilla seeds if using and ground cinnamon or cinnamon sticks if using.  Leave to infuse until cool.

If using vanilla seeds and cinnamon sticks, strain the liquid before pouring into a plastic container with lid.   If not, (in which case the granizado will be flecked with the zest and cinnamon), pour directly into container.  Place in freezer until ALMOST frozen, then whizz with electric blender into a thick ice puree. Return to freezer till frozen.  When ready to serve, scrape a fork over the surface and spoon the ice shards into glasses.

Serves 8

Lemon and Lime Granizado

Just really, really refreshing.

Juice of 3 lemons and 4 limes

500ml water

200g sugar

Heat sugar and water together and stir until sugar dissolved.  Add lemon and lime juice and leave to cool.  Pour into a plastic box with lid and place in freezer until ALMOST frozen.  Whizz with electric blender into a thick ice puree.  Return to freezer till frozen.  When ready to serve, scrape a fork over the surface and spoon the ice shards into glasses.

Serves 6

Recipes by Jane Veale