Lovely Rita

In my devotion to Rita's Water Ice and keen interest in making homemade ice creams and sorbets, I've always wished I could find a way to make a frozen dessert that had the vibrant fruit flavor and perfectly slushy texture of Rita's at home. I never had much success. Until now.

I'd torn a recipe for Watermelon Sorbet from Patricia Wells out of Runner's World earlier this summer, impressed by its simplicity. All you needed to make it was watermelon, simple syrup and lemon or lime juice. Wells said you didn't even need to an ice cream maker. I knew that with such a straightforward ingredient list, and watermelons being so tasty right now, that the sorbet would be good. I just didn't know it would taste just like Rita's.

The freezers at a typical Rita's store keep the water ice at the perfect firmness, between frozen and slushy. This watermelon sorbet somehow manages to achieve that same consistency, both fresh out of the ice cream maker and after having been in the freezer for a day. Maybe the simple syrup lends it a cohesiveness, rather than icing up into a frozen mass like sugar would. Or maybe it's the watermelon, the texture of which is kind of fibrous compared to other fruits. Whatever it is, it's delicious.--S

Watermelon Sorbet

Cube eight to 10 cups of watermelon (discard seeds). Puree in a blender until you have four cups. Mix with two tablespoons fresh lemon or lime juice and one cup simple syrup (boil equal parts water and sugar until sugar dissolves; then let syrup cool). Chill in an ice-cream maker, or leave in your freezer until slushy.

Recipe courtesy of Runner's World

When You Tire of Plain Old Ice Cream

Ice cream is all well and good, but an ice cream sandwich takes the pleasure up a notch. The nostalgia factor, the portability, and the combination of cookie and ice cream all add up to a refreshing break from a plain ol' bowl of ice cream. (Boooooring!)

My favorite homemade ice cream sandwiches (incidentally, the only ice cream sandwiches I've ever made) combine coconut and vanilla. They're Coconut Cream Sandwiches, and while the original recipe suggests you buy two pints of vanilla ice cream for the filling, would it really kill you to make a batch of homemade ice cream? No French-style, egg-based seriousness needed; a simple Philadelphia-style ice cream fits the bill just fine, especially since the cookie part of the ice cream sandwich is pretty rich, made with sweetened shredded coconut, butter, sugar, flour and salt.

You'll probably find the cookies expand in the oven--it happens to me every time--so shape the unbaked cookie dough into a smaller piece than you'd ideally want for an ice cream sandwich. And when the cookies have cooled and you're ready to make the sandwiches, make sure the ice cream is slightly softened, otherwise you'll break the cookies. And then you'll have to eat them on the spot.

It's August, summer's half over, and you're probably sick of ice cream. Okay, you're not sick of ice cream. I still recommend these ice cream sandwiches!--S

Coconut Cream Sandwiches
Makes 12

1/2 c unsalted butter, room temperature
1/2 c sugar
1/4 t salt
3/4 c all-purpose flour
7 oz sweetened shredded coconut
2 pints vanilla ice cream, slightly softened (recipe below)

1. With an electric mixer, beat butter, sugar and salt until smooth. Mix in flour, then coconut, beating until a dough forms. Transfer to a piece of waxed paper; pat into a rectangular log, about 3" wide and 6" long. Wrap with waxed paper; freeze until firm, about 30 min.
2. Preheat oven to 350, with racks in upper and lower thirds. With a serrated knife, slice log of dough crosswise 1/4" thick (you should have about 24 slices); arrange slices on two baking sheets. [Leave plenty of space between the cookies; as mentioned above, they will spread.]
3. Bake until golden, rotating sheets from top to bottom and front to back halfway through, 20 to 25 minutes (watch closely toward end of cooking time to avoid overbrowning). Cool completely on sheets.
4. Dividing evenly, spread ice cream on flat side of half the cookies; sandwich with remaining cookies, flat side down. Freeze on a baking sheet until firm, about 3 hrs. (To freeze longer, up to 1 week, wrap sandwiches individually in plastic.)

Recipe courtesy of Everyday Food

Three to Cool You

I promise to make other things this summer besides ice cream. But until it cools down, there's going to be a lot of frozen dessert making going on in my kitchen. The latest: Three Fruit Ice Cream, courtesy of none other than the great Aunt Betty.

The three fruits here are orange, banana and lemon. Juice from the citrus fruits and a pureed banana join a sumptuous egg-based custard, and the result is a Creamsicle-esque dessert that is indeed quite cool. As a thunderstorm raged outside, bringing the temperature back to a reasonable range, I dug in to the Three Fruit Ice Cream and cooled down myself.

This ice cream is terrific on its own; thick and creamy thanks to six egg yolks, and subtly fruity. If you're feeling ambitious, it'd pair nicely with some chopped pineapple, or slivered or candied almonds, on top.--S

Three Fruit Ice Cream

2 c half and half
2/3 c sugar
6 egg yolks, beaten
1 c heavy cream
1 banana
3/4 c orange juice
3 T fresh lemon juice
1 T grated orange zest (optional)

1. In a double boiler, heat the half and half over barely simmering water until scalded.
2. Whisk the sugar into the egg yolks.
3. Whisk in some of the hot half and half, and then slowly add the egg/half and half mixture to the remaining half and half.
4. Pour the mixture into a medium saucepan continue to cook, stirring constantly until the custard coats the back of a wooden spoon.
5. Immediately place the pot in a pan of ice water and stir to cool to room temperature.
6. Blend in cream. Cover and refrigerate the mixture for 2-3 hours or until thoroughly chilled.
7. When you are ready to freeze the ice cream mixture, purree the banana, OJ and lemon juice in a food processor until smooth. Stir into the custard base with the orange zest, if using.
8. Freeze in an ice cream machine according to the instructions.

The New Fro Yo

I consider myself pretty good at making ice cream. Homemade frozen yogurt, on the other hand, has thus far eluded me. I tried it a few times last year and it was watery, icy and too sweet, consisting of lowfat plain yogurt, sugar and not much else. Thanks to a great article in June's Food & Wine, I now know better.

The article features recipes from artisanal ice cream maker Jeni Britton, who runs three ice cream parlors in Columbus, Ohio. Refreshingly, Jeni does not view frozen yogurt as a "healthy" alternative to ice cream. Use whole milk yogurt, she says (I went with Fage's "Total Classic" Greek yogurt). Jeni also adds a touch of unflavored gelatin to the yogurt, which gives the finished product an airy, whipped texture. (Although some purists take issue with her use of "unnecessary ingredients.") And a half-cup of heavy cream doesn't hurt things, either.

I made Jeni's Strawberry Frozen Yogurt last week, and it was a hit: sour, tangy, gorgeously pink. We were so anxious to eat it that we didn't even let it freeze completely (hence the lumpy photo). Fork, God love him, said it was "better than Pinkberry." Granted, he is not such a Pinkberry fan, but I get his point: this fro yo is GOOD, yo.--S

Strawberry Frozen Yogurt
MAKES 5 CUPS

2 T fresh lemon juice plus 1 t finely grated lemon zest
One 1/4-ounce package unflavored powdered gelatin
12 ounces strawberries, hulled
3/4 c sugar
1/4 c light corn syrup
2 c plain whole-milk yogurt
1/2 c heavy cream

1. Fill a large bowl with ice water. Pour the lemon juice into a small bowl. Sprinkle the gelatin on top; let stand for 5 minutes.
2. Meanwhile, in a blender, puree the strawberries until smooth; you should have about 1 cup of strawberry puree.
3. In a small saucepan, combine the strawberry puree with the sugar and corn syrup and bring to a boil. Cook over moderately high heat until the sugar dissolves completely, about 1 minute. Remove the strawberry mixture from the heat and stir in the lemon gelatin until it melts.
4. In a medium bowl, mix the yogurt with the lemon zest and the hot strawberry puree. Stir in the heavy cream. Set the bowl in the ice water bath and let stand, stirring occasionally, until the strawberry yogurt is cold, about 20 minutes.
Pour the strawberry yogurt into an ice cream maker and freeze according to the manufacturer’s instructions.
5. Pack the frozen yogurt into a plastic container. Press a sheet of plastic wrap directly onto the surface of the frozen yogurt and close with an airtight lid. Freeze until firm, about 4 hours.

Recipe courtesy of Food & Wine

Melted: The Summer '07 Ice Cream Challenge Rundown

This summer I balanced an ambitious ice cream-making project with marathon training. I think I fared alright in both, though I'm kind of off ice cream for awhile, and I've got two purple toenails.

As I tore through dozens of eggs, countless quarts of heavy cream and more cups of sugar than I care to tally, here is what I learned:

1. Experimentation is good, though the results may not be.
2. Plan ahead; ice cream takes time, unless you want to sip it through a straw.
3. You can't really go wrong on a French-style ice cream. Heavy cream + milk + eggs = deliciousness, no matter the flavor.

Now, a look at the good, the bad and the ugly.

The Good

Mint Chip. I came out of the gate with an iconic flavor that lived up to its reputation, and then flew past that reputation. Real mint chip ice cream is not green. It looks more like vanilla than anything minty. Cool and crunchy, not overly minty, but surely refreshing.

Sour Cream Ice Cream with Brown Sugar Strawberry Swirl. There's a nice tang from the sour cream, and folding the strawberries in by hand produces a very pretty ice cream, with pink swirls throughout. Book club declared it delicious.

Blackberry Sorbet. Made from greenmarket blackberries, this sorbet had that perfect sweet-tart combination that I love in frozen desserts.

Orange Szechuan Peppercorn Ice Cream. One of the most interesting flavors of the summer, this ice cream was creamy and citrus-y, with just a hint of heat that you feel on the roof of your mouth after you've swallowed the ice cream.

Peach Ice Cream. A yummy swirl of peaches and cream. Mom & I used a cookie scoop to serve the ice cream in tiny pastry cups she found at a gourmet store.

The Freaking Awesome

Butterscotch Pecan. A "home run" French-style ice cream that includes a tablespoon of Dewar's and chopped buttered pecans.

Coconut Cornstarch Ice Cream. Despite the unappetizing name, this ice cream is fabulous. Cornstarch prevents crystal formation--which results in that grainy texture--by soaking up water, so there's less water present to make big crystals. The addition of some toasted coconut at the end of the churning added a pleasant crunch.

Toasted Almond Gelato. My one foray into the world of gelato yielded a rich and delicious ice cream that was so good I made a second batch the next day.

The Bad

Blueberry Ice Cream. I diplomatically wrote, "I give this ice cream points for uniqueness" and commended its Violet Beauregard-esque color. I was being nice. I didn't really care for this weird flavor.

Chocolate Gooseberry Ice Cream. At the end of the summer, one container of ice cream remains in my freezer. It's this one. And I plan on giving it the heave-ho tonight. Something about this flavor combo was just wrong. This is an example of experimentation gone badly; the recipe called for raspberry, but the market was out of them, so I stupidly opted for gooseberry, the "it" fruit of the summer. Mistake.

The "Eh"

Chocolate Espresso Sorbet. The folks at my cocktail party lapped this up, but I prefer my sorbets fruity.

People keep reminding me summer's not officially over until September 23, so in that spirit, I agreed to make a last flavor. The results of the survey in which I asked readers to vote for the flavor are in, and the winner is... Ginger, with 45% of the vote. Mint Chip came in second, with 27%, and I'm sorry to say Turd Berry only garnered one vote (gee, who could it be?).

Thank you to all who participated in the grueling challenge of sampling all these homemade ice creams. With a site like this out there, I know you can go elsewhere for your cravings, but I'm glad you stuck it out with me. Much love!--S

Out with a Bang

It seems like only yesterday that I was plotting my ridiculous project of making a different ice cream flavor every week of the summer. And now--after adhering to the plan through June, July and August--I've nearly reached the end. This week I made my final flavor before Labor Day. And it was really, really good.

I went down a new path, calling on a recipe from a forthcoming book I just received, Dolce Italiano: Desserts From the Babbo Kitchen. I also tried a frozen dessert I'd never attempted before: gelato. Call it beginner's luck, but the Toasted Almond Gelato was a mega-hit. Definitely one of the summer's home runs.

I started by toasting almonds until they were nicely golden brown, since, as the recipe says, the toastier they are, the more intensely flavored your gelato will be. Then I put them in a saucepan with cream, milk, sugar and honey. The recipe calls for fancy millifiori honey, which is made from "a thousand flowers" and has subtle floral notes that are apparently sublime with almond. But I didn't have that kind of honey, nor was it for sale at the greenmarket. So I bought a jar of Berkshire Berries Roof-top Magic Honey. The man selling it said it was very flavorful--and it was made right here in NYC. Next, I let the almonds infuse in the liquid for awhile, until it was room temperature. I strained the almonds out and stirred in salt, Disaronno amaretto and almond extract. I put this in the fridge until chilled, and then churned it in the ice cream maker.

How to describe this gelato? It was so good my coworkers nearly wiped it out this afternoon. I had to snatch the container away from them so I could have a scoop left for Fork and I. We ate it on a chocolate cookie cone--so rich and delicious. It was so good I dripped it on my computer but I didn't care. It was so good that I have another batch on the stove right this very moment.--S

Toasted Almond Gelato

Makes 2 cups

1 c sliced blanched almonds
1 c heavy cream
1 1/2 c whole milk
1/4 c plus 1 T granulated sugar
1 heaping T flavorful honey, such as clover or millifiori
Pinch of kosher salt
2 t amaretto
1/4 t pure almond extract

1. Preheat the oven to 375. Spread the almonds in a single layer on a clean baking sheet and toast them for 12 to 14 minutes, or until they are golden brown and aromatic (I only toasted them for 8 or 9 minutes and they were nicely brown).

2. Remove the almonds from the oven and place them in a medium saucepan. Add the heavy cream, milk, sugar and honey and place over medium heat, stirring occasionally.

3. When the mixture comes to a boil, remove the saucepan from the heat and set aside to infuse the liquid with the flavor of the almonds.

4. Allow the mixture to cool to room temperature, then strain it through a chinois or fine-meshed sieve and discard the almonds. stir in the salt, amaretto, and almond extract.

5. Chill the gelato thoroughly in a covered container, at least 3 to 4 hours. Freeze it in an ice cream maker according to the manufacturer's instructions.

Recipe courtesy of Dolce Italiano: Desserts From the Babbo Kitchen

Peachy Keen

The Laura festivities continued into this past weekend, with a cocktail party at Spoon Manor, aka my parents' house, in Franklin Lakes. My mom's ambitious menu included pulled BBQ chicken sandwiches, gazpacho, lime-marinated shrimp kebabs and popovers with onion confit. My contribution? Ice cream, of course.

I decided to go retro and made peach ice cream. It was a simple recipe from Luchetti and did not disappoint. I stewed ripe greenmarket peaches in a pot with a little sugar and lemon juice until they resembled peach jam. Next, I prepared the custard that I've become quite familiar with this summer, as it forms the basis for some of the creamiest ice creams. And finally, I churned it into a delightful, frozen swirl of peaches and cream. We used a cookie scoop to serve the ice cream in tiny pastry cups my mom found at a gourmet store. Considering the mega-dessert display--which included berry shortcake, blueberry pie, coffee cake, marcona almond-dark chocolate-toffee bark, mousse and sweet little sticks of pastry you dipped in a peanut butter-chocolate sauce--the little peach ice cream balls were just perfect. Pictures coming...-S

Icy Hot

With three weeks of summer left, and a number of classic and a little out-there ice cream flavors under my belt, I decided it was time to enter the realm of weird ice cream flavors. You know, like soy sauce ice cream, or foie gras ice cream, or... Orange Szechuan Peppercorn Ice Cream.

I went to Garden of Eden and bought a jar of Szechuan Pepper. The jar read, "THIS IS NOT A PEPPER CORN WE GROWN TO KNOW. IT IS A CHINESE SPICE KNOWN AS RED PEPPER CORN." Hmmm. Once home, I opened it up and took a tentative whiff. It was surprisingly mild, with an almost floral aroma. I tasted a peppercorn. It wasn't terribly hot. It was even a little sweet. Wikipedia confirmed my impressions:

"Sichuan pepper has a unique aroma and flavour that is not hot or pungent like black or white pepper, or chili peppers, but has slight lemony overtones and creates in the mouth a kind of tingly numbness (caused by its 3% of hydroxy-alpha-sanshool) that sets the stage for these hot spices."

Following a recipe from The Perfect Scoop, I crushed three tablespoons of the peppercorns, and let them steep in a pot with warm milk, cream, sugar and the zest of four oranges for an hour. Halfway through the steeping, my curiosity got the better of me, and I peeked in to see how things were going. What a mistake! I was assaulted with the most intense vapor I've ever encountered in my kitchen. I gulped for air. I pictured Fork coming home and finding me passed out on the kitchen floor, clutching the jar bearing the weird description. After a few seconds I was fine, but I definitely do not recommend sniffing this stuff while it's steeping. Unless perhaps you have a severe headcold. But even then...

Anyway, after an hour I drained out the peppercorns, and mixed in six egg yolks. I stirred this over low heat until a custard formed, then combined this with the remaining cream, and set it over an ice bath until it was cold. Finally, I churned it. The result? One of the most interesting, delightful ice creams I've ever tasted. It's creamy and citrus-y, with just a hint of heat that you feel on the roof of your mouth after you've swallowed the ice cream. My office pals swooned over this ice cream, lapping it up despite their initial raised eyebrows when I told them the ingredients.

Szechuan pepper: coming to a Baskin Robbins near you.--S

My Very Own Crackberry

Last week my parents and I went to a great little farmer's market in Ridgewood, NJ. We picked up tomatoes, eggplant, peaches and blackberries; plus some breads and cookies from a baker who was at the market, too. We didn't have the patience to wait on the long line in front of the truck selling fresh mozzarella, but I'll be back in the area next week and might have to return. A whole line of people can't be wrong.

My mom used the tomatoes and eggplant for a marvelous eggplant parmesan. The peaches topped our breakfast cereal the next day. And the blackberries? Blackberry Sorbet, of course. I made the version from A Passion for Ice Cream and it came out wonderfully. It had that perfect sweet-tart combination that I love in frozen desserts. And I am in love with the color, especially against these awesome blue ice cream bowls Kathy gave me. In fact, I'd love to sit here talking to you more about how great this sorbet is, but, um, I think my blackberry's calling.--S

Parachute In for Some Tuna

As I was running laps around a track in Riverside Park tonight, parachute strapped to my waist, sun setting over the Hudson River, I was thinking about tuna.

Sushi-grade ahi tuna. It was pink and fatty. Fork brought it home before I set out on my run, and as I released the parachute for a final lap, feeling its weight disappear as I tore around the track feeling newly lightweight, my stomach started to rumble. TUNA!

I busted into the kitchen, and Fork and I set to frantic work. Within 15 minutes, dinner was on the table and we dug in. The tuna steaks were phenomenal; we lightly coated them in olive oil, salt and pepper, and seared them in a hot frying pan for less than two minutes per side, serving them rare. Fork also picked up more littleneck clams, his latest obsession, which were just as tasty as last week's. And what goes better with tuna than ginger? Instead of masking the tuna's fine flavor, though, we used ginger on the salad, in an emulsified ginger dressing recipe my cousin Kathy gave me years ago.

And for dessert, the ice cream flavor du semaine: Coconut. I prefer this name to the one Mark Bittman gives it in yesterday's Times--Cornstarch Ice Cream. Despite the unappetizing name, this ice cream is one of my favorites yet. It's not as smooth as other ice creams I've made (especially the French-style ones, with eggs), though it lacked the graininess present in many ice creams. Turns out that cornstarch prevents crystal formation--which results in that grainy texture--by soaking up water, so there's less water present to make big crystals. The addition of some toasted coconut at the end of the churning did lend a little texture, though: a pleasant crunch.--S

Strawberry Heaven

As we head into week seven of the summer '07 ice cream challenge, allow me to get nostalgic for a moment. Harken back to the week of July 16. Where were you? What were you doing? I know where I was, and what I was doing: happily holed up in my kitchen, making Sour Cream Ice Cream with Brown Sugar Strawberry Swirl.

A longtime lover of strawberries, I spotted this recipe in the New York Times on July 4 and knew I had to try it. Apparently for author Melissa Clark, strawberry ice cream is surprisingly tricky to make. "I’ve always ended up with something riddled with alarmingly icy chunks of berry that give me a headache when I bite down," she writes in the article accompanying the recipe. So Clark developed a technique that yields a soft serve ice cream with bits of (unfrozen) berries. The crux of this technique is that the ice cream does not go into the freezer after the berries are added at the end--that keeps them from turning into frozen fruit pebbles and also keeps the custard’s texture supple and soft.

In addition to sugar, cream, milk, egg yolks, vanilla and strawberries, this recipe includes sour cream and brown sugar. You add the sour cream to the custard base, and the brown sugar to the berries. You heat the berries and brown sugar just enough to bring out the berries’ juiciness and flavor, and melt the sugar into a molasses-tinged, brandy-spiked syrup. Then you fold it into the ice cream just before serving.

This ice cream is delicious. It is best freshly made, since the dreaded freezer never has a chance to turn the fruit into killer ice chunks. But even after spending a few days in the freezer, this ice cream holds up. There's a nice tang from the sour cream, and folding the strawberries in by hand produces a very pretty ice cream, with pink swirls throughout. It went over well with my book club yesterday; they declared it delicious. We enjoyed it with slices of peach pie, made from peaches I bought at the greenmarket. Summer desserts make for happy memories.--S

Summer Clambake

Boy, I woke up with a big one today. A craving that, is. By the time I had my morning coffee I'd decided I wanted scallops for dinner. I went to the fish store at lunchtime, and i knew i was in businesss when the fishmonger smiled at my order. "These are the best scallops I've had all year," he said. I'll say, they were were lovely. The littlenecks caught my eye too, so I picked up a dozen and a summer clambake was born.

Spoon added a loaf of french bread, some corn from the market and a bottle of Pinot Grigio and hit the kitchen to whip up a quick and glorious feast of grilled sea scallops with steamed little neck clams (clam juice on the side, with a dash of fresh mint, great for the french bread). On the side we had a crisp salad of romaine hearts, red onion, fresh corn and bleu cheese and some leftover quinoa. Quinoa is a grain not unlike coucous. Spoon makes a deicious cold quinoa salad with black beans, tomato, green onion and lime juice. For dessert, homemade ice cream: let me hand it over to Spoon...--F

For this week's ice cream installment, I wanted to make some sort of raspberry chocolate ice cream, but by the time I got to the market this evening, every stand was out of raspberries. One stand was selling gooseberries, and after tasting one, I figured I'd try them, not as a substitute, per se, but as an alternate in the Chocolate-Raspberry Ice Cream recipe from The Perfect Scoop.

I'd noticed gooseberries around the market over the past few weeks; they seem to be this year's it fruit. The ones I bought are red, although gooseberries also come in green. They resemble grapes, with little pinstripes running across each one vertically, and taste sweet and tangy. They have prickly tips, which were a little annoying to remove, but I tried to get into the Zen of the activity, which helped.

This Philadelphia-style ice cream calls for cooking heavy cream, sugar and dutch-process cocoa powder on the stove, and then steeping the berries in that mixture, lid on, for 10 minutes. You then puree the concoction, chill it and churn it. The finished product is a rather elegant frozen dessert. Like the blueberry ice cream, this ice cream is best eaten sparingly--one scoop at a time. Take it easy, and, in the words of the ice cream vendor my mom used to buy ice cream from as a kid, "take your tongue for a sleighride!"--S

Nothing Like a Cold Scotch

According to David Lebovitz--former pastry chef at Chez Panisse and author of my new favorite ice cream cookbook, The Perfect Scoop--there is some argument surrounding the origin of the word "butterscotch." Some say the name comes from "butter-scorched," which makes some sense, since making butterscotch does involve cooking butter. Others say the word derives from the phrase "butter scoring," as in "cutting"--not as in, "Dude, I scored some awesome Butterscotch Pecan Ice Cream!" Lebovitz offers his own theory: buttery butterscotch tastes better with a shot of scotch in it. And who am I to argue with that?

And so it is that Fork and I are currently noshing on the Butterscotch Pecan Ice Cream from Lebovitz's book, and it is a home run. The French-style ice cream includes a whopping six egg yolks, five tablespoons of butter, 3/4 cup brown sugar, and all the other usual suspects: heavy cream, whole milk, vanilla extract. Oh, and a tablespoon of Dewar's.

Tantamount to this delectable concoction is the addition of "mix-ins," as many ice cream recipes call the bits of nuts, candy, cake, cookies or fruit that sometimes punctuate ice cream. In this case, the mix-ins are chopped buttered pecans, which lend a terrific textural counterpoint to the creamy and, well, very buttery ice cream. Yes, this is indeed a decadent frozen dessert. So I'm setting my alarm for 6AM for an 8-mile run tomorrow. Who said you could eat this stuff and get off, uh, scotch-free?--S

Buttered Pecan Ice Cream

5 T butter
3/4 c packed dark brown sugar
1/2 t coarse salt
2 c heavy cream
3/4 c whole milk
6 large egg yolks
1/2 t vanilla extract
1 T scotch whisky
Buttered Pecans (recipe below)

1. Melt the butter in a medium saucepan, then stir in the brown sugar and salt until well moistened. Whisk in 1 cup of the cream and the milk.
2. Warm the brown sugar and cream mixture. Pour the remaining 1 cup cream into a large bowl and set a mesh strainer on top.
3. In a separate medium bowl, whisk together the egg yolks. Slowly pour the warm brown sugar mixture into the egg yolks, whisking constantly, then scrape the warmed egg yolks back into the saucepan.
4. Stir the mixture constantly over medium heat with a heatproof spatula, scraping the bottom as you stir, until the mixture thickens and coats the spatula. Pour the custard through the strainer and stir it into the cream. Add the vanilla and scotch, then stir until cool over an ice bath.
5. Chill the mixture thoroughly in the refrigerator, then freeze it in your ice cream maker according to the manufacturer's instructions. During the last few minutes of churning, add the Buttered Pecans.

Buttered Pecans

1 1/2 T butter
1 1/2 c pecan halves
1/4 t coarse salt

1. Preheat the oven to 350 F.
2. Melt the butter in a skillet. Remove from the heat and toss the pecans with the melted butter until well coated, then sprinkle with the salt.
3. Spread evenly on a baking sheet and toast in the oven for 10 to 12 minutes, stirring once during baking.
4. Remove from the oven and let cool completely.

Recipes courtesy of The Perfect Scoop

I Did Not Find My Thrill on Blueberry Hill

Week two of the summer '07 ice cream challenge found me going the fruit route, with Blueberry Ice Cream from Ice Creams & Sorbets by Lou Seibert Pappas. Unlike last week's Mint Chip recipe, this was an egg-free version, a straightforward blend of berries, lemon, sugar, milk, heavy cream and vanilla extract.

Perhaps now's a good time for me to explain that there are two basic kinds of ice cream: with eggs and without. The former, sometimes called French-style, is made by cooking egg yolks and cream on the stovetop until a custard forms. Then you cool the custard, mix it with the other ingredients (i.e., strawberries, chocolate chips, etc.) and churn it in an ice cream maker. Conversely, the eggless version, known as Philadelphia-style, comes together much more quickly, because you usually just mix up milk, cream, sugar and your other ingredients and churn them in the machine. French-style ice cream is usually creamy and decadent. Philly-style is a tiny bit lighter and fresh tasting.

So this Blueberry Ice Cream was Philly-style, and involved cooking the berries on the stove with a touch of water until they became tender, and then pureeing them in a blender. Then I mashed some lemon zest with a little sugar to release the oils, heated milk and some more sugar in a saucepan, and stirred in the blueberry puree, cream, sugared zest, lemon juice and vanilla. I put this in the fridge to chill for about three hours, had a yummy lunch at Markt with Fork, and then churned the ice cream.

I give this ice cream points for uniqueness. It has a delicate flavor that almost doesn't taste like blueberry, even a little aromatic and perfumy. I can't say I'm thrilled with it, but what does thrill me is its color: very Violet Beauregard.--S

Do Me a Flavor

I've decided to celebrate summer this year by making a different ice cream every week of the season. That means between now and Labor Day, I'll have made 11 varieties. Although I have owned an ice cream maker--the Cuisinart Pure Indulgence Frozen Yogurt-Ice Cream & Sorbet Maker, ICE-30BC Series--for nearly two years and made about 14 flavors (pictured at right, green tea, from last fall), there are many varieties that I have yet to try. I hope a weekly routine will force me to step up and face some neglected classic flavors as well as some wacky experimental ones. It's going to be a grueling challenge, I know, and I'm going to be counting on your support to help me make it through. Support, in this case, will mean eating a different variety of ice cream every week until September. I know this is a lot to ask, but remember, there's no "I" in the phrase "We all scream for ice cream." Or no capital "I," anyway.

Here are the rules:
1. One frozen dessert every week. Acceptable frozen desserts are ice cream, sorbet, sherbet or granita. I'm leaving frozen yogurt out of this, since I made it once and it was awful.
2. When possible, ingredients are to come from the Union Square Greenmarket.
3. Recipes are to come from a variety of recent cookbooks:
Ice Cream and Frozen Desserts by Peggy Fallon (DK, 2007)
Ice Creams & Sorbets by Lou Seibert Pappas (Chronicle Books, 2007)
A Passion for Ice Cream by Emily Luchetti (Chronicle Books, 2006)
The Perfect Scoop by David Lebovitz (Ten Speed Press, 2007)
4. No repeats.

The games began yesterday, when I tackled the iconic Mint Chip Ice Cream, from Luchetti. No fake-green wintergreen here; this ice cream is a lovely cream color, looking more like vanilla than anything minty. But the flavor is definitely there: the recipe calls for steeping 3/4 cup mint leaves in warm custard (made from heavy cream, milk and egg yolks) for 15 minutes. I then strained out the leaves, and chilled the mixture overnight. Then, this morning, I churned the ice cream, folded in chopped bittersweet chocolate and froze it. The ice cream is fabulous. Cool and crunchy, not overly minty but surely refreshing. Happy summer.--S