I'VE GOT THE BLUES

Summer in all its fury has arrived and though I hail from tropical climes I have no tolerance for high temperatures. Try as I might to ignore it, I feel the moist heat insidiously making its way into my skin through every tiny pore, till I am overcome by it, enshrouded as if by giant moth wings. Usually, when people are gadding about frolicking in the sun, I prefer to draw the blinds and hide in the cool comfort of air-conditioning.

Summer does have its positive points of course, one of them being ice cream. Though perfectly acceptable during cooler seasons, ice cream is a treat best enjoyed when the mercury rises tall. This past weekend O and I walked down the street to J.P. Licks for a scoop and were met with a long line of eager customers. A mound of cappuccino crunch was just what we needed to bring the temperature down.

This horrid 95˚F-plus weather has been here for a few days now, and just as foodstuffs are dried, salted, pickled, and canned for the barren winter months, so must the fridge be stocked with cold, refreshing foods like crisp greens, bright fruit punches, and obviously, ice cream in anticipation of days hot and humid.

Rather than setting out daily under the unrelenting blaze of the sun for a cup or a cone, it is better to have a pint – or a quart – of something iced and creamy in the freezer. I’d come across this recipe for Blueberry Sour Cream Ice Cream in Dorie Greenspan’s “Baking” tome a few months ago, but was waiting for the appropriate weather forecast and ripe berries to come along, and finally, they did – hand-in-hand, too.

BLUEBERRY SOUR CREAM ICE CREAM
Adapted from “Baking: From My Home to Yours” Dorie Greenspan
Yields approx. 1 pint

Special equipment: ice cream maker & container in which to store the finished product – unless you plan on eating it all in one sitting, straight out of the bowl.

1 C. blueberries (you are free to use thawed and drained frozen berries)
1/3 C. sugar
Pinch of salt
Grated zest and juice of ¼ lemon
¾ C. heavy cream
¾ C. sour cream

-Put blueberries + sugar + salt + zest + juice in a medium, non-reactive saucepan and cook over medium heat, stirring, till mix boils and berries pop, about 3 minutes.

-Purée the mix in a blender till fairy homogenous, about 1 minute.

-Add heavy and sour creams and pulse just to blend.

-Taste and adjust flavor by squirting in a bit more juice, adding a pinch more salt, and/or a teaspoon of sugar.

-Refrigerate mix till completely cooled and process according to your ice cream maker’s instructions.

I SCREAM, YOU SCREAM

I’ve been cooking at home these past few days, but am itching to venture out to see what there is to see and naturally, eat what there is to eat, here in Boston. A friend who used to live here was kind enough to email me a list of suggestions, and I went on my first outing yesterday. The destination: Toscanini’s. There I met the gracious owner, Gus, whose joviality and eagerness to share restaurant recommendations brightened what had begun as a lousy day. Although Gus had to rush out on some deliveries, I was left with a cup of the most delectable ice cream I’ve had this side of the Atlantic. I will no longer have to yearn for my Roman gelati because Toscanini’s cool confections are sheer bliss.

Toscanini's, 899 Main Street, Cambridge, MA

I eyed the chalkboard menu greedily, reading through flavors like cake batter, lemon vanilla, orange chocolate, khulfee (cardamom and nuts), sweet cream, ginger snap molasses, malted vanilla, and maple walnut. Ultimately I settled on cocoa pudding and cherries and chips.


Cocoa pudding was ultra-thick and chewy, not like freezer section ice cream that melts in your mouth without resistance. If you stuck your spoon in and pulled it out you’d feel it tugging back, like quicksand. I always fantasize of chocolate cake like the one Harriet the Spy used to have after school every day, dense and substantial, but I have yet to find the nonfiction version. However, this cocoa pudding is the closest thing I’ve had to it. Despite its being ice cream, the texture is very nearly cake.


I ate through the gooey chocolate and arrived at cherries and chips. This is ice cream you want to drip out the bottom of your cone, down your arm and elbow, just so you can lick it off. And, as if the gobs of pink, creamy goodness aren’t enough, there were real cherries, dark maroon and fleshy – you could even see where the stem and pit had once been. Delightful, delightful, delightful.

ICE ICE BABY

I made vanilla ice cream with brownie bits in it this weekend. I am ashamed to admit that I was talking on the phone while making the crème anglaise base for the ice cream, and as a result, it curdled a bit. A lot, actually. There were enough scrambled eggs at the bottom to make a McMuffin, and while I was tempted to toss the whole thing out, I also had a fresh batch of brownies waiting to be enveloped by creamy ice cream, so I tossed out the lumps and carried on. It turned out really well, despite the earlier trouble. Looks good, no?



There are several varieties of ice cream: standard or Philadelphia-style, which is your basic milk and/or cream plus sugar plus flavorings; French, which is what I made this weekend – it’s basically a fluid egg-based custard that you can eat as desssert with cake, fruit, etc., or pop in the ice cream maker; gelato, the Italian confection with is a richer, more dense version of the previous examples; and the ever-expanding froyos, Tasti Delites, and Pinkberrys of the world, whose compositions I can’t actually claim to know a thing about. All of these desserts are prepared by pouring the flavored liquid into a machine that churns it in a cold bowl until the mix freezes, and voilà! Icecreamgelatofroyoetcetcetc.

Usually this process takes about half an hour, which is fine, but in today’s instant-gratification culture, who has time to wait 30 minutes? Wouldn’t it be magical if there were a potion that could turn your chocolate milk into chocolate ice cream in under five minutes? Science? Fiction? Infomercial? FACT, my friends. All you need is liquid nitrogen! I won’t disclose how or where I came by it, but I will say that it was super cool – no pun intended. Milk + sugar + vanilla + liquid nitrogen = lots of billowing clouds and ice cream in three minutes flat. Eat your heart out, Bill Nye.