Spork or Foon?

Panforte Ice Cream

 

First I must say HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO JACK, my boyfriend. I love him so much. He's a cutie.

A few weeks back, I was having some friends over to watch a World Cup match and wanted to find a good dessert to serve.  It was a hot day out and I was longing for a deliciously rich, creamy ice cream. I randomly opened up Dave Lebovitz’s “Perfect Scoop” straight to the Panforte Ice Cream recipe.

Interesting. I thought.  Panforte. I’m intrigued.  A friend who was coming over is a first-generation Italian and I thought this would suite my guests perfectly.

However, I was faced with a slight dilemma.  Panforte is the Italian version of a fruit cake. And fruit cakes are scary enough in their true form. 

This mystery cake haunts many-a-holiday-celebration.  Guests turn up their noses in disgust as they scornfully look down at the brick-like cake.  Nauseating bits of candied fruit create a craggly landscape atop the dense spice cake, and, if you’re really unlucky, your gracious host would have thrown in a handful of nuts.  A question that will always be the subject of trivia at any party: “If the cake is soaked in alcohol, why is it always so dry?” And, in my opinion, no cake should have a shelf-life that could span years.

That is the scariest thought of all.

Fruitcake should be served on Halloween.  Want to scare away all of the pesky trick-or-treaters who happily traipse up and down the street as they ring your doorbell and greet you with a melodious “Trick or Treat”?  Open the door slowly and hand them each a piece of last year’s fruit cake. 

Boo!

However, I do love the deep and fragrant notes of cloves, cinnamon, and freshly grated nutmeg and longed to try them in ice cream form.   However, I was a little bit thrown off at the not-so-excited reaction of my Italian friend.

“What are you making for dessert?” he asked.

“Panforte Ice Cream.”  I said, nervously.

Silence.

“Have you ever had panforte?” I asked, stupidly.

“Yeahhhh.” He said, timidly. I was unnerved by the way he drew out the word.  I convinced myself he was going to hate it. “But never as ice cream.”

Wonderful scents of wafted through the air as the warmed spices infused into the half-and-half and only became more fragrant when mixed with the eggs and thickened into creamy custard, leaving me longing for crisp, fall air in the suffocating heat of July. I became even more eager to try the ice cream as I mixed the custard with the final bits of heavy cream and watched as a steady stream of amber honey created ribbons throughout the custard.

After what seemed like hours (it was really only 30 minutes), I churned the ice cream and added chunks of Ghirardelli chocolate and sliced toasted almonds.

But chocolate is not in fruitcake, you say? Nope. But chocolate makes everything better.

But there are no candied fruits in this, you say?  Damn right there are no candied fruits.  I don’t want that stuff messing up my ice cream.

 I ran through an arsenal of spoons as I tasted the ice cream at various stages of churning.  And when I say various stages, I mean every 2 minutes. 

Oh, it must be colder. Let me taste.

SO GOOD.

Oh, it looks thicker. I must try it.

SO GOOD.

Nope. Not thicker. Need to eat it again.

SO GOOD.

Finally, the ice cream was ready. After a bit of time in the freezer (about 20 minutes, nowhere near long enough for the ice cream to set), my guests requested the ice cream

“Ok, but it’s not done.”  I explained.

I don’t even think they heard me. Everyone grabbed a spoon and plunged it into the somewhat melted ice cream.

“Wow that is SO good.” Someone yelled in between bites.

“This is incredible.” Someone else said.

“It tastes like a cannoli! I want the whole thing!”

I was relieved.  I have overcome the curse of the fruitcake.  The solution: Don’t add fruit and turn it into ice cream.

Panforte Ice Cream adapted from David Lebovitz's Perfect Scoop

1 cup half and half

⅔ cup sugar

1 cinnamon stick, broken in half

¼ tsp ground cloves

¼ tsp freshly grated nutmeg

2 cups heavy cream

4 large egg yolks

3 Tbsp honey

8 oz. premium dark chocolate, chopped

2 tbsp rum

½ cup almonds, toasted and coarsely chopped

 

Warm the half-and-half, sugar, and spices in a medium saucepan. Cover, remove from heat, and let steep for 30 minutes at room temperature.

Rewarm the spice-infused mixture. Pour the cream into a large bowl and set a mesh strainer over top. In a separate bowl, whisk together the egg yolks. Slowly pour the warmed mixture into the egg yolks, whisking constantly, then scrape the mixture back into the saucepan.

Stir the mixture constantly over medium-low to medium heat with a spatula, scraping the bottom as you stir, until the mixture thickens and coats the spatula. Don’t rush this step, it may take 10 minutes or so. If you hurry it along, you may be having a little breakfast (scrambled eggs) with your ice cream. Pour the custard through the strainer into the cream. Discard the cinnamon stick. Stir the custard until cool over an ice bath. While it’s cooling, warm the honey in a small saucepan, then stir it into the custard.

Chill the mixture throughly in the refrigerator. Even though you’re about to pour it into your frozen ice cream maker, the chilling step is actually very important for the final texture. Give it at least a few hours in the fridge. When cold, freeze it in your ice cream maker according to the manufacturer’s instructions. During the last few minutes of churning, add the citrus peel and almonds.

 

TWD: Burnt Sugar Ice Cream

 
 

I have three food weaknesses in life:  Cheeseburgers, Frozen Margaritas, and Frozen Yogurt. 

Wait. Four. Lucky Charms.  Delicious, marshmallowy Lucky Charms.

I only allow myself to eat cheeseburgers on very special occasions, ie. weekend barbecues in the summer. Every single weekend. 

I only allow myself to drink frozen margaritas on very special occasions, ie. warm days in the summer. AKA pretty often.

I allow myself to eat frozen yogurt every day.  Every. Single. Day. 

No, I don't have it everyday, but if I did, I don't feel bad about it.  

In college, however, I lived on a steady diet of gutted bagels and unlimited frozen yogurt from the dining hall (aka Graham dining hall for all of you Syracuse University people).  I figured if I took the doughy insides out of my daily bagels, I would be allowed to eat more frozen yogurt.  Ahhh, college naivete. 

But when I say I love frozen yogurt, I really mean I love ice cream, but I do NOT allow myself to eat ice cream. Seriously, I used to convince myself that I didn't like ice cream and instead thought frozen yogurt was better.  Who was I kidding?  That's like saying freeze dried ice cream tastes better than Hagen Daaz. It's just a lie developed to convince astronauts that what they have is delicious. A big, fat lie, freeze dried lie. 

When it comes down to it, I love the rich, creamy, smooth texture of ice cream.  You can beat an ice cream that's been made with a custard.  And this ice cream is at the top, top, top of my ice cream experience.  A complex burnt sugar ice cream that really just tastes like the most wonderful caramel ice cream you have ever tasted.  It was so good.  The custard was so good - I considered taking a swig out of the glass I let it cool in before I poured it into my ice cream maker, but then I thought better of myself. But the fact that I even considered it?  Well, that's just disgusting.  

But that's how good this ice cream is. So good you want to drink it melted out of a glass. Bottoms up.

Check out Becky's site, Project Domestication, for the recipe!  And check out the rest of TWD!  

Bouchon's Almond Cake with Strawberry Compote

 


 I apologize to Nancy of Dog Eat the Crumbs.  I am going to be late wit the Swedish Visiting Cake.  Work has been insanely busy since both the hockey and basketball seasons were coming to an end and I've worked until 10 pm almost every night that I started with only Saturday off. Now, I'm not complaining, because my job is totally awesome and I need to pinch myself because of how awesome my job is, but it gives me absolutely no time to bake, cook, or blog.  Now that the seasons are (very sadly) over, I'll have some time to cook again. And finally get around to commenting on the blogs. I have some favorites out there that I have been severely deprived of reading for the past two weeks! My Google Reader weeps for me. 

That said, I am absolutely making the cake, but it will be posted later in the week. And I hope that it is awesome (which is surely will be), because it may be my first thing I take to work to feed the coworkers and I don't want to let them down. Ha.

 

In the place of the Swedish Visiting Cake, I give you Thomas Keller's Almond Cake from the Bouchon Cookbook.  I cannot express how totally awesome this cake is (this post is just filled with awesomeness, isn't it?).  I mean, this cake is INSANELY good.  As in, Jack and I had two friends over for dinner on Saturday night and we almost polished this whole thing off, it's so good.  The cake has a texture unlike any cake I have ever eaten.  It is light and incredibly moist, but a extremely substantial. It almost has a pound cake like texture, but it's different.  For the first time ever, I am lacking words to describe it.  Almond paste and sugar are put together in a mixing bowl and beaten until the paste is crumbly.  Then, chilled, diced butter is added to the mix and beaten for a good five minutes until the mixture is light and airy.  Finally, honey is added, along with eggs, amaretto, and only 1/3 cup of flour.  

The cake is only supposed to be cooked for about 25 minutes, but I had mine in for 35 minutes (and had to tent it with foil so it didn't brown), because my 8" pans are crap. I bought them before I learned how to cook, and they probably were like, $3 each and said "Buy us, we're crap!". So the center of my cake took some time to cook. 

 

Finally, the recipe calls for the cake to be topped with a Strawberry Rhubarb Compote, but I couldn't find Rhubarb (and, although I know it is delicious, it still scares me because it looks like a vegetable) and creme fraiche, but I ended up making some No-Cook Amaretto Ice cream and a Strawberry Compote.  The additions were heaven.  The sweet strawberry compote just melted atop a creamy, almond liquor flavored ice cream and added the perfect textural and flavor contrast to the dish.  But Jack said that the cake was so good that he was actually mad there was compote and ice cream "ruining the cake". 

He's got a way with words. 

And Thomas Keller has a way with recipes.  This man is a god.

Almond Cake with Strawberry Compote adapted from Bouchon Cookbook

Strawberry Compote

2 pounds strawberries, rinsed and hulled

1 lemon

6 tbsp granulated sugar

Almond Cake

Butter and flour (for the pans)

7 oz. almond paste

1/4 cup granulated sugar

8 tbsp (4 oz.) unsalted butter, cut into small pieces and chilled

2 tbsp honey

3 large eggs

2 tbsp amaretto, plus additional for brushing

1/3 cup all purpose flour, sifted

Kosher salt

1/3 to 1/2 cup sliced almonds, toasted

Confectioners' sugar

No-Cook Amaretto Ice Cream

2 cups of half and half

1 can of sweetened condensed milk

1 cup of heavy cream

1 1/2 teaspoons vanilla extract

1/2 tsp almond extract

3 tbsp Amaretto 

For the compote:  Select about 2 oz of the smallest strawberries and cut lengthwise into quarters.  These will be added raw to the cooked compote; set aside.

Cut the remaining larger berries in halves or quarters so that the pieces are about the same size. (You should have about 2 1/2 cups).  Place them in a medium saucepan.

Use a Microplane or a fine grater to zest the lemon.  Add 1 teaspoon of zest to the pan. Squeeze 1 tbsp of juice from the lemon and add to the pan.  Add the sugar and stir to coat the fruit.

Place the pan over medium-high heat and cook, stirring often to dissolve the sugar.  By the time the sugar has dissolved, the fruit will have released a lot of juice.  Boil for about 2-3 minutes to reduce the liquid somewhat, then reduce the heat and simmer for another 2 minutes, or until the strawberries are soft.  

Remove from heat and stir in the reserved strawberries.  Cool to room temperature, then refrigerate in a covered container until cold. 

For the Cake: Preheat the oven to 350 F.  Butter and flour four 4-by-1 3/4-inch-high miniature springform pans or butter the bottom of an 8-inch round cake pan and butter and flour its sides. Line the bottom of the 8-inch pan, if using, with parchment paper; this isn't necessary with the small pans.

Place the almond paste and sugar in the bowl of a heavy-duty mixer fitted with the paddle attachment, or in another large bowl if using a handheld mixer. Begin to cream the mixture on low speed to break up the almond paste, then increase the speed for medium about 2 minutes, or until the paste is broken into fine particles.  Add the butter and mix for 4 to 5 minutes, or until the mixture is light in color and airy; stop the machine and scrape down the sides as necessary.  It is important to mix long enough or the cake will have a dense texture. Mix in the honey, then add the eggs one at a time, beating until each one is fully incorporated before adding the next.  Add the amaretto, flour, and a pinch of salt and mix just to combine.

Scrape the batter into the prepared pan(s) and smooth the top. Bake the small cakes for about 15 minutes, the large one for about 25 minutes, or until the cake is golden and springs back when pressed. Transfer to a cooling rack to cool.

Unmold the small cakes or invert the large cake onto the rack and remove the parchment paper, and invert the cake again so the top is once again facing upward. Brush the top of the cake(s) with amaretto and sprinkle with the toasted almonds. Dust with confectioners' sugar (the cakes can be stored, well wrapped, at room temperature for up to 2 days).

For the Ice Cream: Mix together the first five ingredients until combined, making sure the condensed milk is well blended with the other liquids. Chill until cold.

Pour mixture into an ice cream maker and freeze accordingly.  Add the amaretto close to the end of churning. 

Perfect Flavor Ice Cream - I'll Never Complain About the Price of Hagen Daas Ever Again.

Imagine this.  A small operation out of Waynesboro, VA, allows you to create your own ice cream flavors, where they will hand-churn each individual batch from local and organic ingredients.  You can purchase your creation in batches 4 or 8. You log onto the Perfect Flavor website, your imagination flowing.  Decadent combinations of organic cream bases and exotic mix-ins float through your head. Should you go with sweet cream?  How about French Custard. Oooh, Cheesecake sounds so good.  But you've never tried mousse ice cream before.  

After some wrangling, you decide to go with Sweet Cream, a perennial favorite. You excitedly reach the next step in this choose-your-own-ice-cream adventure:  The base flavor.  Chocolate, Vanilla, Caramel, or Coffee.  Four strong contenders.  Moving almost independently of your brain, like an Ouiji board planchette, your mouse clicks on Caramel. 

Now for the fun part: Mix-Ins. Do you go with Mexican Aztec Chocolate?  A double-dose of creamy caramel? Have a little fun with hot chocolate and marshamallows?  Create a spiced-up blend of cardamom, cinnamon, and star anise? Do a little savory saffron and white pepper? Get a little earthy with hibiscus and cloves? Make a breakfast out of it with scones and biscotti?  Go all Frenchified with crisp Macarons? Relax yourself with Rooibox Tea? Seduce someone with truffles and raspberries? 

Being the ice cream purist that you (I) are (am), you go for Cinnamon buns and a drizzle of caramel sauce. You give your flavor a name - Fatty Bom Batty Breakfast Pint (you'll work on the coining next time) and add this bad boy to the cart while you whip out your Visa.

Well, you'd better put that away and grab your Amex Black Card, because for 8 pints of this ice cream, you're paying a whopping $194.99!!! BEFORE TAX.

You read that right.  One hundred and ninety four dollars and ninety nine cents for 8 pints of ice cream.

Lets do that math. That is TWENTY FOUR DOLLARS AND THIRTY SEVEN CENTS A PINT.

And that is for the 8 pint deal!  If you want to limit yourself and only order four pints, you're paying $41.25 a PINT. A PINT! 

I'm sorry, but the last time I checked, we were in a recession.  Now don't get me wrong. Ice cream is my weakness in which I can eat it morning, noon, and night. But who has two hundred dollars lying around for ice cream right now?  Or ever?  This ice cream could be hand-churned by the Dalai Lama, washed with holy water from The Pope himself, blessed on a Talmud by the highest Rabbi in Israel, and sprinkled in dust from the surface of Mars, I still would have a hard time paying for a $25 pint of ice cream right now.

All kidding aside, I don't mean to give the company a hard time. Not at all, actually.  I completely embrace the concept. The flavors and mix-ins are outstanding.  My mind was racing when going through the site.  And I am sure they produce an amazing product, of which the price is completely justified (they are HAND CHURNED). I wish them only the best of luck with their enterprise, as I hope I can begin my own culinary enterprise one day. And if I had the money I would absolutely support them, because I think we all should support businesses like this right now, and I think they have an outstanding product that they are selling. 

But for now, I'll have to stick with my pretty little red Cuisinart Ice Cream maker.  But hopefully one day, I won't have to think twice about buying a $25 (or $40) pint of ice cream.  I'll just make that pint last a looooong time. 

If you can, definitely check out the site! And support them!

TWD: Coffee and a Donut Breakfast Ice Cream

Recently, Jack and I got into a serious argument.  He stated that Pistachio pudding is the best dessert on the face of the Earth. I told him that he was crazy, asking how he could like some thin, electric-green powdered box-dessert when he can have a cool and creamy, freshly churned ice cream.  He told me that Pistachio pudding is the best because it is delicious (great argument). He then hit me with a "It is better than any dessert you've ever made me" jab, saw my stunned face and followed it up with a  "Wow, look at your hair, you look like Medusa (it is very humid out!)" cross, and made a final blow with a "You have awful eyebrows. I hope our kids have my eyebrows" punch that was very below the belt.  

I was determined to prove Jack wrong (on ALL fronts).  I grabbed my straightening iron, plucked my eyebrows, and started churning some ice cream (not at the same time, thankfully). 

I tried two different versions of Dorie's ice cream. First, was Dorie's vanilla. Simple to make. Easy. Creamy. Smooth. Rich. Hints of creamy, sweet bourbon vanilla produce a smooth finish to the ice cream.  Who ever knew vanilla could taste so good? 

I gave Jack a taste.  

"It is good, but too cold."  He said through bites of ice cream.  

I gritted my teeth. How could ice cream be too cold?  ICE. cream. 

Then I made Dorie's Mint Chocolate Chip Version, knowing Mint Chocolate Chip is his favorite flavor.  Bits of intsense 70% dark chocolate studded the minty cool ice cream and was an instant favorite.  

"It's not green." he observed.

No, it's all natural. I told him

"It would be better if it was green."  

Apparently, this is the movie BIG and I am dating a 12-year old Tom Hanks.

I racked my brain for something that would wow him. I was an avid reader of Michael Laiskonis's, the head Pastry Chef at the famed Le Bernadin restaurant in New York City, Workbook Blog. There, he created a Cinnamon Toast Ice Cream in which he soaked wheat bread in milk overnight, strained it, squeezed out the excess milk, churned it with fancy pastry-chef things like trimoline and glucose powder, and added some cinnamon sugar to the very end of the churning process.

I used Dorie's ice cream as a base for this, and let me tell you something. I forgot to toast the bread before the soak, which I am sure would have imparted even more bread flavor into the ice cream, this ice cream is a winner.  Pure culinary genius. The cinnamon-sugar adds a sweet and fragrant finish and wonderfully crunchy texture to the smooth and creamy bread ice cream.  I went a step further and made a Hazelnut Coffee Ice Cream that I adapted from The Perfect Scoop. 

If this didn't wow him, I don't know what would. 

I set both flavors in front of him and told him that it was my version of Breakfast Ice Cream:  Coffee and a Donut (I know it is cinnamon toast and not a cinnamon donut, but that is neither here nor there). He looked confused, but took a bite.  He looked up at me and smiled. He then got off the couch and did his happy-when-he-likes-my-food-dance.  

I win. Pistachio pudding be damned, I win.

A few notes.  Jack is never that mean to me seriously, he was joking about the hair and eyebrows thing (which he does all the time with a devilish grin). Also, I didn't take any photos of the vanilla and mint chocolate chip flavors because I didn't keep the ice cream around long enough for me to pick at it over and over.   But they were good. Best. Ever. Seriously.

Check out Lynne of Cafe LynneLu for the recipe and check out TWD for some more delicious ice cream variations! 

Salted Butter Caramel Ice Cream

Take a look at that title right there.  When reading the name of that ice cream, I knew what I was in for.  Decadence.  Creaminess.  Sumptuousness.  Diet-breaking-ness.  But I did not care.   Upon tasting this ice cream, all restraint went out of the window.  I smiled.  I squealed.  I ate.  I made a shrine to David Lebovitz around my ice cream maker.

Ok, I didn’t go that far. 

This ice cream is the richest, most velvety, most luxurious, complex and flavorful ice cream that I have ever tasted. Typically, homemade ice cream tends to be hard as a rock after it is frozen, but because of the caramel, this ice cream stays soft and lush for days on end.  In my case, that means it is easier to sneak a bite every now and then.   And another.  And another…

Salted Butter Caramel Ice Cream 

Adapted from David Liebovitz

 

2 cups whole milk, divided

1½ cups sugar
4 tablespoons salted butter
1/4 teaspoon sea salt
1 cups heavy cream
5 large egg yolks
1 teaspoon vanilla extract

 

To make the ice cream, make an ice bath by filling a large bowl about a third full with ice cubes and adding a cup or so of water so they're floating. Nest a smaller metal bowl (at least 2 quarts/liters) over the ice, pour 1 cup (250 ml) of the milk into the inner bowl, and rest a mesh strainer on top of it.

Spread 1½ cups sugar in the saucepan in an even layer. Heat the sugar over moderate heat until the edges begin to melt. Use a heatproof utensil to gently stir the liquefied sugar from the bottom and edges towards the center, stirring, until all the sugar is dissolved. (Or most of it—there may be some lumps, which will melt later.)

Continue to cook stirring infrequently until the caramel starts smoking and begins to smell like it's just about to burn. It won't take long.

Once caramelized, remove from heat and stir in the butter and salt, until butter is melted, then gradually whisk in the cream, stirring as you go.  The caramel may harden and seize, but return it to the heat and continue to stir over low heat until any hard caramel is melted. Stir in 1 cup of the milk.

Whisk the yolks in a small bowl and gradually pour some of the warm caramel mixture over the yolks, stirring constantly. Scrape the warmed yolks back into the saucepan and cook the custard using a heatproof utensil, stirring constantly (scraping the bottom as you stir) until the mixture thickens. If using an instant-read thermometer, it should read 160-170 F.

Pour the custard through the strainer into the milk set over the ice bath, add the vanilla, then stir frequently until the mixture is cooled down. Refrigerate at least 8 hours or until thoroughly chilled.

Freeze the mixture in your ice cream maker according to the manufacturer's instructions.

TWD: Honey Peach Bellini Ice Cream with Caramelized White Chocolate Sauce

Why is it that some foods get classified as nice or lovely?  Take the main ingredients of this dish, for example.  Peaches and honey are sweet little items. Personified, peaches and honey would be the most beautiful Southern Debutants.  The belles of the ball, if you will (and I will). 

Well, I'm changing this right now.  Tommi of Brown Interior (click for recipe) made this week's selection and I am going to say that this ice cream is kick a**.  For reals.  Sweet, ripe peaches are mixed with a floral honey to make a lovely bad a** ice cream.  To experiment a bit, I made a smaller second batch and added 1/4 cup of prosecco.  Finally, in order to kick it up a notch, I made David Lebovitz's Caramelized White Chocolate to top it off.

HUZZAH.  

I will blog more about that White Chocolate later in the week.  Because it deserves a post of its own.  I could eat that for days on end. UPDATE: Click here for the post and recipe.

I love combining two of the dessert world's geniuses to make the ultimate desserts.  

This is the ultimate summer ice cream.  And watch out, because it takes no prisoners.

Don't underestimate the power of the peach.

Check out TWD for more ice cream! 

Late TWD: Parisian Apple Tartlet

Here it is. Finally.  My Parisian Apple Tartlet.

The suspense is over. You can all breathe a sigh of relief now.  And then grab a tissue for my sob story.

I had such big plans for this one. Jessican of My Baking Heart chose Dorie's Parisian Apple Tartlet (click for recipe). I was going to "tempura" the apple slices and serve this with a dipping sauce.  But my plans got derailed.  And I am going to tell you why.

This Tuesday, we had our friends Chelsea and Chris over for our weekly dinner party.  As usual, they brought their adorable son, Kip, and this time, we had a special guest - Chelsea's sister.  So I wanted to make a big meal - something fun, different, summery... you get the point.

Well, it was a disaster.  Problem one: I bit off more than I could chew.  I decided to make an appetizer, an entree, and two desserts, all of which needed the oven.  I had two hours to cook. Problem 2: I was experimenting with a cuisine I am not all too familiar with - Southern.  Problem 3:  I wanted to make David Lebovitz's Salted Butter Caramel Ice Cream to go with Dorie's apple tartlet.  I forgot to freeze my ice cream canister.

Disaster all around.

The biggest disappointment?  I wasn't crazy about this tart.  This was the one thing I was holding out for.  But to me, it was kind of plain.  So I obviously did something wrong, because everyone else loved it.  And it couldn't have been any easier. Cut apples. Place apples on puff pastry. Add butter (of course). Add sugar. Bake. 

HELLO!?!?  What is wrong with me?

I did end up making the ice cream the next day and paired it with another pastry and I will say, it was MUCH better.  But this ice cream would make even brussel sprouts better.

Later, I read a quote from Top Chef Winner Hosea in July's issue of Food & Wine magazine:   A dinner party is not the time for experimentation.  Cook what you know.

Thanks.

I think I need to go back into my pantry closet.

Check out TWD for more of this tart done the right way!

Coldstone No-Melt Ice Cream Turns to Jello Pudding?

So the mad scientists over at Coldstone are at it again.  First were their Ice Cream Cupcakes (which I never tried but heard I wasn't missing much).  Now, Coldstone has introduced a no-melt ice cream that turns to jello pudding as you eat it.

Curious.

The ice cream comes in two flavors - chocolate and butterscotch. The Coldstone Tastemaster (ok, next to video game tester, this has to be the best job in the world.), Ray Karam states that he wanted to "Change the texture of ice cream."

I'm scared.

After reading a MetroMix article on this ice cream phenomenon, a few sentences popped out on me:

At first, the ice cream was the perfect velvety blend of rich milk chocolate and peanut butter.

So far, so good.  But then:

"I soon found the texture to be troubling. Within a few bites, the hybrid ice cream began to soften and turned into a glue-like mixture, unlike either JELL-O or ice cream."

Uh oh.

"With the consistency of a very thick frozen yogurt or gelato, the ice cream coated the inside of my mouth instead of melting comfortably."

And then:

"...while walking, the Chocolate-y Goodness found its way down the side of the cup, onto my hands, and even dripped onto my pants."

The lies! The horror!

I am the biggest ice cream lover in all the land, but I don't think I would try this.  We've got to draw the line somewhere!

TWD: Chipster Topped Brownie Ice Cream Cupcake

I ate WAY too much food this past weekend.  Although I did get to go running every day (on the beach while listening to Bob Marley), I still feel like poop on a stick.  The thought of even talking about food makes me semi-naseous - which poses a problem when it comes to maintaining a food blog.

So I will say this:  I wasn't so crazy about the Chipster Topped Brownies (chosen by Beth of Supplicious - click the link for the recipe) by themselves.  Put a chocolate chip cookie on a brownie, and that's what you've got here.  So it is a good idea, in theory, but overall, it just didn't do it for me.

Put ice cream on top of a cookie on top of a brownie? Now we're talking!  These were delicious as ice cream cupcakes! I was going to use Ben and Jerry's Half-Baked frozen yogurt (which is chocolate and vanilla ice cream with cookie dough and brownie bits - perfect for this recipe), but I couldn't find it anywhere (was everyone stoned yet conscious about counting calories this weekend???), so I just used vanilla frozen yogurt. In hindsight, I guess the extra hundred calories a serving didn't make a difference for a recipe that contained 3 1/2 sticks of butter.

Regardless, this was so, so, so delicious.  Ice cream is like bacon.  It makes everything better. 

Unfortunately, ice cream does not help me burn off the gazillion calories I ate this past weekend, so it is back to the gym.  I have set up a little tent next to the ellipticals so I can camp out there all week.

In the meantime, check out the rest of the TWD crew for more Chipster Topped Brownies! 

I think I'll enter these into the Ice Cream Cupcake Challenge of 2009! Click here for details!