The only thing more satisfying in summer than just-churned vanilla ice cream that leaves a little pool of vanilla beans at the bottom of a bowl, is well, another kind of ice cream.
I often make a two-quart batch of vanilla custard that can be divided, then spun into different flavors and textures by the half-pint. Vanilla is the perfect base for strawberries or other fresh fruit, roughly chopped dark chocolate, or even a bit of pistachio cream. Caramelized cherries with a bit of granola mixed in. Honey, lavender, and fig is always an easy win for a waffle cone. Salted caramel makes an unexpected layer for ice cream sandwiches.
Throughout the summer my three ice cream makers get serious workouts. Modern ice cream makers are so versatile—and freeze so quickly—I can make multiple frozen treats in minutes, turning my weekend gatherings with friends into ice cream socials.
While the countertop machine is whipping blueberry frozen yogurt, the stand mixer attachment is churning fudgy chocolate sorbet for my vegan friends. There are no wait times between batches. I just swap the canister if I want to serve espresso gelato after dinner.
When I was a kid, making ice cream in the summer was a weekend-long process that taught patience. It started with making custard, and waiting hours to infuse vanilla into cream on the stove, and then waiting even longer for the custard to chill to just above freezing. We couldn’t make the ice cream until the next day, when it was churned with crushed ice and rock salt by hand on the back porch until it reached a soft-serve consistency, then put in the freezer to set for another four to six hours. After a day at the beach, and later, burgers, barbecue, and badminton, we’d finally get a scoop of vanilla dolloped onto shortcakes or pound cake and topped with fruit. If you wanted strawberry ice cream, you’d have to wait until next week.
This issue’s recipes for tomato aguachile, bison burgers, and grilled pound cake with raspberries remind me of so many of those summer days. And for anyone who can’t wait for a sweet treat, there is a simple recipe for a berry-flavored frozen yogurt with a white-chocolate matcha shell that’s easy to prep in less than 10 minutes.
Summer Meals & Broadway Musicals
INTO THE WOODS
The witch of Stephen Sondheim’s 1987 musical with a particularly prolific garden casts
a spell on her neighbor who has an appetite for “greens, greens, and nothing but greens, parsley, peppers, cabbages and celery….” She might crave our herb recipes.
IN THE HEIGHTS
In Lin-Manuel Miranda’s 2008 Tony Award–winning musical, bodega owner Usnavi serves coffee that is light and sweet to neighbors. Although Camila’s “been cooking all week,” we still suggest the summer menu.
HAIRSPRAY
Tracy Turnblad opens this 2002 musical about inclusion with “Good Morning, Baltimore,” where she belts out the lyric, “hungry for something I can’t eat.” She’d probably recommend any of the Charm City’s top spots for crab cakes.
