Text 10450, 123 rader
Skriven 2008-07-13 06:30:00 av Michael Loo
     Kommentar till en text av BURTON FORD
Ärende: fancy tastes 601
========================
 BF> It was an afternoon buffet that still staggers my mind when I
 BF> think how wonderful and distinctive it was.   It cost $15 per person.

Times have changed, and this one cost about 3x per person
exclusive of the wines, which added a few bucks. The Lafite,
though, was contributed by Nicholas, who, as we have noted,
can be unbelievably cheap or unbelievably uncheap by degrees.

 ml-> We decided not to do the ritual "visit Gus" afterward, as
 ml-> there had been too much food by half.
 BF> Gus?  Is that Tosconos?  If so, I thought he went out of business?

He went back in business.

MMMMM----- Recipe via Meal-Master (tm) v8.02

      Title: Toscanini's Burnt Caramel Ice Cream
 Categories: Ice cream, Frozen, Atlantic, Corby
      Yield: 1 servings

      1 c  Heavy cream
      2 c  Whole milk
    2/3 c  Sugar
    1/4 ts Salt

     Ice cream seemed not worth the effort until I discovered the burnt
  caramel at Toscanini's Ice Cream, in Cambridge, Massachusetts. Gus
  Rancatore, the owner, is the sort of eccentric who makes Cambridge
  eternally appealing.
     To make about a quart of burnt-caramel ice cream, have on hand a
  two-quart saucepan (this size will reduce the possibility of
  spatters); please don't use your best one, especially if it isn't
  nonstick. Combine and set aside one cup of heavy cream and two cups
  of whole milk. Put two thirds of a cup of sugar and a quarter
  teaspoon of salt into the pan and set over moderate heat. The salt is
  crucial, as I discovered last year in Brittany and Normandy, regions
  famous for their cream, butter, and "fleur de sel" -- shockingly
  expensive air-dried sea salt with an excellent, nuanced flavor.
     The best of the regions' famous caramels feature liberal amounts
  of that salt, which has recently become a prestige ingredient in
  American kitchens. My favorite salt of the moment -- and any cook
  with pretensions needs one, like a favorite olive oil -- is Maldon
  Sea Salt, from a small and charming family-run business on the Essex
  coast of England; you can order it from www.zingermans.com.
     Tip the pan back and forth to nudge the pockets of white sugar to
  the bottom. In two or three minutes all the sugar will have melted;
  the color will be uneven, varying from light honey to dark maple
  syrup. When the first black spots appear, the steam rising from the
  pan will turn to smoke.
     Immediately pour in half the cream-milk mixture all at once. The
  caramel will clump, or "seize," and the gobs and twisted tentacles
  will make it look like some creature from the deep. Stir over
  moderate heat with a wooden spoon or a sturdy spatula; the sticky
  mess will soon turn docile, and within five minutes the mixture will
  be homogenous and light mahogany in color. Keep it at a low simmer
  for twenty minutes or so, stirring frequently. The mixture will
  thicken and darken. During the last three or four minutes your
  stirring should leave a line at the bottom of the pan.
     The proteins in the milk and cream will begin to solidify and form
  small strings, which need to be strained out. Pour the hot mixture
  into a fine-mesh sieve set over the remaining milk and cream and push
  it through with a spoon or a spatula. Stir or whisk the warm mixture;
  the uncooked milk and cream will cool the base sufficiently that it
  can go straight into the chilled container of the ice-cream maker.
  (Technique for the usual cooked custard calls for thoroughly chilling
  the mixture in the refrigerator -- a step that does have the
  additional benefit of allowing the flavors to ripen.)
     I urge you to taste how powerful and lush just four ingredients
  can be. But you'll doubtless want to embellish -- resisting the urge,
  I hope, to "accentuate the negative," as one of my favorite writers
  on food, Miriam Ungerer, said of pouring sweet liqueurs over ice
  cream. Toppings and additions to the mixture are better seen as
  opportunities to add bitter or acidic or spicy flavors rather than
  yet more sweet ones. Italians, for example, drizzle balsamic vinegar
  or Scotch whisky over ice cream.
     Before freezing the cooled mixture you could stir into it a half
  teaspoon or more of vanilla extract, or a teaspoon of instant coffee
  dissolved in a tablespoon of milk, or a teaspoon of ground espresso
  (I like the fine grit and the strength of the coffee as it steeps in
  the cream, but the texture is not to everyone's liking), or a dash of
  freshly ground nutmeg. Too much liquid, such as brewed coffee or
  liqueur, will risk ice-crystal formation.
     So will fresh fruit, which is better used as a topping. If you're
  set on chunky additions, add them half or two thirds of the way
  through freezing -- after at least twenty minutes. The only additions
  of which I wholeheartedly approve are crushed gingersnaps and chopped
  crystallized ginger, but it would be hard to oppose toasted chopped
  hazelnuts or almonds or finely chopped bittersweet chocolate.
     I also like Rancatore's idea for a parfait he made a few years ago:
  cheap commercial ice-cream sandwiches cut up and mixed into coffee ice
  cream. Homemade coffee-caramel ice cream as a base for this typically
  eccentric and nostalgic Rancatore creation would be an even more
  persuasive way to evoke childhood memories in an adult context. That
  is not to say, of course, that eating ice cream need ever be a wholly
  adult activity.
     You'll need an ice-cream freezer. I long prided myself on using a
  wooden bucket that requires ice and coarse salt; masters will affirm
  that this kind offers generous capacity (a gallon) and the most
  control, and produces beautiful results -- not to mention the appeal
  of licking the dasher. White Mountain still makes bucket machines for
  home use. But having to deal with the ice and salt can mean that
  homemade ice cream becomes a once-a-year treat -- as it did for me,
  until I gave away the bucket and started using an iceless maker.
  Twenty years ago a hand-cranked, small-capacity machine called the
  Donvier made preparing ice cream practicable and easy. As long as you
  remember to freeze the thick-walled, coolant-filled metal bowl
  beforehand for at least twelve hours, you can have ice cream in about
  forty to fifty minutes. You can find the Donvier online for around
  $40. Krups and Cuisinart make similar but machine-cranked models,
  both priced at about $70; Krups's La Glacière takes up a bit less
  space and is sleeker-looking.

  MM format by Manny Rothstein, 4/3/02.

  "Ice Cream for Beginners" by Corby Kummer, The Atlantic Monthly; June
  2000

MMMMM

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