Tag Archives: ice cream

Gelato vs. Ice Cream, the Battle in Which There Are No Losers

20 Aug

As a quick side note concerning last month’s annual trek to San Francisco, it bears sharing that we engaged in a voracious debate concerning which icy treat was more favorable: ice cream or gelato.

St. James Whiskey gelato, topped with a scoop of apricot sorbetto, from Naia in North Beach

In reality, there are very few properties that separate gelato from ice cream.  Both are icy treats made from milk and cream, both are churned while freezing, and both can be served via cone or cup.  The main differences between gelato and ice cream lie in three areas: the ratio of milk to cream contained in each (gelato contains less cream, more milk, resulting in a marginally lower fat product with a less heavy taste), the amount of air contained within each (gelato is churned more slowly than ice cream, which allows less air to be incorporated into the mix and makes for a denser end product), and the temperature at which each item is served (gelato is served at a temperature slightly above freezing, ice cream is served frozen).

Chocolate ice cream from Bi-Rite Creamery in the Misson

Facts sorted and items sampled, we considered our tastings.  Bi-Rite Creamery, by making its ice cream in very small batches, maintains a virtue similar to that of most gelato makers (okay, so I recant my above statement about there being three main differences between gelato and ice cream–there are actually four main differences, that being that gelato is meant to be made in very small batches, and ice cream, unless made at home or at an artisanal ice cream shop like Bi-Rite Creamery, is generally not).  Both Naia and Bi-Rite Creamery offer a selection of sorbets, and both places excel at making delicious, unique flavors of their product (I would have taken a picture of the balsamic strawberry ice cream, salted caramel ice cream, and brown sugar ice cream with a ginger caramel swirl that were consumed during this sampling of icy treats,  but I was, delightfully, too busy tasting them to even think about my camera).

In the end, ice cream and gelato were declared dual winners in the unofficial competition.  Not only were we unable to choose a winner between the two frozen delights, but we were unwilling.  To declare one better over the other seemed an almost ridiculous task, especially when, as evidenced below, we found it virtually impossible to register a single complaint about either.

Six Threes Ice Cream

3 Jun

Dear Summer,

Did we do something to anger you?  I only ask because it seems as though you have been avoiding us.  Here we are, the first week of June, and you are nowhere in sight.  I can’t help but think that maybe you are feeling a bit hesitant about joining us this year.  Maybe you had a great time hibernating during the months you were not with us, making you decide that you’d rather stay asleep a few more weeks instead of prodding your good friend The Sun in the ribs and making a good argument for spending some time with us.  We’re pretty fun, you know.  We like going in the pool and hitting baseballs in the backyard while our skin warms in the heat of the afternoon, and the hammock is all cleaned off and good to go.  Basically, we’re ready whenever you are.

Look, I even made a little something to celebrate your arrival.  My husband’s family has this great ice cream recipe that I had been dying to make.  I first tasted it at a family reunion last summer—remember that?  You were sort of there, Summer, but mostly in name rather than in feel (it was extremely cold and wet last August, as you may recall, but I promise I am in no way holding that against you).  Anyhow, my husband’s family made a huge batch of this ice cream.  They took turns hand churning it, and when it was done they called to all of the children to come and have an inaugural taste of the ice cream straight from the dasher.  All of the children were feeling uncharacteristically shy, so I swiped my finger against the dasher and demonstrated how non-poisonous and definitely delicious the ice cream was.

As you may also recall, the children had a rather difficult time getting to the ice cream covered dasher after that, such was my devotion to gobbling that thing clean before anyone else could snitch a taste.  I wouldn’t say I went so far as to push any children aside while protecting my ice cream sample, but that was only because I happened to be taller than all the children, allowing me to conveniently hold the dasher up much higher than they could reach, rendering unnecessary any sort of pushing or jostling on my part.

So, I decided that, in anticipation of your arrival, I would make some of this ice cream.  It is dead simple to assemble, and it tastes supremely fresh and cooling.  The ice cream is egg-free, but it has the smooth, soft, creamy texture of a custard-based ice cream. Do you know what the secret is, Summer?  It’s the banana.  The banana makes the ice cream so rich and luscious, you’d never know it was devoid of eggs.  I tell you, this is the perfect ice cream to start with if you’re feeling hesitant about making homemade ice cream.  It really is foolproof.  Plus, the taste bears a strong resemblance to that of a Creamsicle, which not only gives it points for childhood nostalgia, but also for maximum enjoyability.

I hope we see you soon, Summer.  Rumor has it you’re going to be making an appearance this weekend, but, quite honestly, I can’t really bring myself to believe that prediction, what with how little we’ve seen or sensed of you thus far.  Don’t get me wrong, I want to see you, but I don’t know if I can handle any more stilted anticipation.  If you do happen to show up, believe me, I’ll be more than happy to eat my words—right along, in fact, with a nice bowl of this delicious ice cream.

All the best,

EM from Savory Salty Sweet

Six Threes Ice Cream

The original recipe, which uses three of each measure of ingredients, makes enough ice cream to fill a very large hand cranked machine.  Since the ice cream machine I own only holds 1.5 quarts of finished product, I had to scale the recipe down by two thirds.  This, technically, does not make the ice cream I made a combination of six threes, but rather six ones.  However, since that name does not have nearly the clever ring to it as the original name, I have decided to just stick with calling it six threes ice cream.  Still delicious, just not as abundant.  If you have a larger ice cream maker, you should, by all means, scale the recipe up to make as much ice cream as you can.

Note: Be sure to follow the directions and keep the dairy and citrus ingredients separate until the dairy has been partially frozen in your ice cream machine.  If you add the citrus to the dairy beforehand, the acid in the citrus will cause your dairy to curdle.

1 ripe banana

1 lemon

1 orange, the zest finely grated or chopped

1 cup milk

1 cup cream

1 cup sugar

In a medium bowl, blend or mash the banana.  To this, add the finely grated or chopped zest of the orange.  Squeeze juice from lemon and orange, and combine with the mashed banana and orange zest.  Set aside.

In a large bowl, combine milk, cream, and sugar.  Whisk steadily until sugar is completely dissolved.

Add cream mixture to your ice cream maker, and allow to churn until it reaches the slush stage.

Add the fruit mixture to the slushy cream mixture, then churn according to manufacturer’s instructions (until, that is to say, you have ice cream).

Makes about 1.5 quarts of ice cream.

Fresh Ginger Ice Cream

2 Mar

When working in the kitchen, it is not unwise to have a certain number of expectations in mind.  You know what you want to accomplish, you have at least a vague prediction of how your accomplishment should turn out, and you hope that, should your kitchen excursion produce something slightly outside the realm of what you anticipated, you’ll be able to fix whatever went awry.  What is sometimes most difficult to overcome, however, is not a dish that can’t be fixed, but rather a dish that should not be fixed, no matter how much you want to.

This point was well illustrated two weekends ago in my own kitchen, when I set out to make a batch of ginger ice cream.  Using as my guide the best ice cream manual in all the land, David Lebovitz’s The Prefect Scoop, a cookbook that has yet to produce a disappointing result (I truly believe that the deliciousness of his lemon speculoos ice cream is quite capable of sending a person to the moon and back in a state of unmatched rapture), I got to work slicing and steeping the fresh ginger, then preparing a rich and velvety custard.

It was then, right before I poured the gingered custard into the ice cream maker, that I began to let my instincts go a bit haywire.  Not one to shy away from brisk and bracing flavors and sensations in food, I expected—and wanted—this ice cream to provide a spicy flare of gingery heat in each bite.  When I stole a quick taste of the pre-frozen custard, however, what I found was a subtle ginger profile enveloped by the rich taste of cream.  Seeking a more pronounced flavor, I whisked in a bit of ginger extract and poured the amended mixture into the ice cream machine.

Twenty minutes later, the ice cream churning into a thick and luscious concoction, I snuck another taste.  Still not gingery enough.  I grated some fresh ginger and added it to the whirring machine.  Two minutes later, I tasted it again.  I added more ginger.  I tasted it again.  I added more ginger.  By this point, realizing that I was nearly out of ginger, I opened up a cupboard and prepared to let loose once more with the bottle of ginger extract.

As I was unscrewing the cap to the bottle of extract, I watched the ice cream folding and turning over itself, its lovely yellow hue exaggerating the ribbon-like waves that followed the dasher with each rotation.  That ice cream sure is a lovely color, I thought to myself.  Then I paused, placing the bottle of ginger extract on the counter.  I stopped the machine, removed the lid, and plunged a spoon into the fresh ice cream.  The taste was magical.  It was fantastically smooth, unbelievably rich, and the ginger came across as a bright flash that cut through the soft cloud of creaminess.

Somehow, forgetting that I was making a custard-based ice cream, I had become focused on making the ice cream bracing, spicy, and aggressive, when what I was working against, and shouldn’t have been, was an ice cream that was velvety, subtle, and refreshing.  This was an ice cream that was not meant to stampede one’s taste buds with ginger, but rather provide a gentle kick.  I may be aware of what I like, but I am also very aware of when I am wrong, and my misguided attempts at creating the Most Gingery Ice Cream in the World most definitely fell into that category.  Thankfully, it was an easy problem to fix.  All I had to do was set down my arsenal of ginger and pick up a spoon.

 

Though I now see the error of my ways when it came to making this ice cream, I do still believe that the ice cream benefits greatly from the addition of some grated fresh ginger, as it adds an undeniable freshness to the creaminess.  If you desire, you can also add in a bit of ginger extract, though I want to stress that it is entirely optional, and not at all a necessity.

Fresh Ginger Ice Cream

Very slightly adapted from The Perfect Scoop

3 ounces unpeeled fresh ginger

1 cup whole milk

2 cups heavy cream

3/4 cup sugar

pinch of salt

5 large egg yolks

1/2 teaspoon ginger extract (optional)

1 heaping tablespoon grated fresh ginger

Cut the ginger in half lengthwise (making it more stable for slicing), and then cut it into thin slices.  Place the ginger in a medium, nonreactive saucepan.  Add enough water to cover the ginger by about 1/2 inch, and bring to a boil.  Boil for 2 minutes, then drain, discarding the liquid.

Return the blanched ginger slices to the saucepan, then add the milk, 1 cup of the cream, sugar, and salt.  Warm the mixture, cover, and remove from the heat.  Let steep at room temperature for 1 hour.

Rewarm the mixture.  Remove the ginger slices with a slotted spoon and discard.  Pour the remaining 1 cup heavy cream into a large bowl and set a mesh strainer on top.

In a separate medium bowl, whisk together the egg yolks.  Slowly pour the warm mixture into the egg yolks, whisking constantly, then scrape the warmed egg yolks back into the saucepan.

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.  Stir until cool over an ice bath.  If using, whisk in ginger extract.

Chill the mixture thoroughly in the refrigerator, then freeze in your ice cream maker according to the manufacturer’s instructions.  During the last few minutes of churning, add the grated fresh ginger.