Rum Raisin Ice Cream Pa Rum Pum Pum Pum

The season is getting on.  I’ve been bottling Christmas spirit and hoping for a small Christmas miracle that I’ll make it through in one piece.  My tree currently leans slightly to the left.  I’ve already overdone it on the nog.  And I wish the rest of my holiday gifts would just buy and wrap themselves already.

But hey, sugar plum.  Life’s not so rough.  Especially when it involves a little nip of rum blended into a custard base dotted with boozed up raisins.  In this case, the finest gifts it brings.

It just so happens that I have a good friend that is a very good pastry chef. And he has some very good desserts on his menu at Harvest restaurant: some of the best that I’ve tasted in Boston over the seven years I’ve lived here. The man knows how to bake; his passion for it is beyond charming.  And he was gracious enough to share his recipe for rum raisin ice cream with me.  Tis. the. season.

I could list off Brian’s “on paper” points.  He’s taken home “Best in Show” dessert titles.  He works with Mary Dumont.  Before her, he was at Henrietta’s Table in the Charles Hotel.  He’s certainly no slouch in the kitchen. 

But some of my most favorite things about him are much less conventional.  He’s capable of carrying on a conversation about macarons for over an hour.  He’s getting "BAKE" tattooed on his wrist.  I recently witnessed him impulse buy a vintage sugar crate.  He also likes buffalo-fried brussels sprouts. And he’s been endearing fatherly towards men that have approached me at bars.  In short, he’s a guy you want to grab a beer—or an ice cream cone—with. 

And, oh yes, I should reiterate: rum. raisin. ice cream. And if you think the ice cream looks enticing, you should have seen it paired alongside sticky toffee pudding.  Alas, the sticky toffee rum raisin special has ended at Harvest.  But I assure you there is much more to come.  The winter dessert menu he has been planning over the past few months is the stuff of dreams.  Visions of sugar plum-like dreams.

In the meantime, you might want to make this ice cream.  It’s hard to feel anything but tidings of joy when it’s around.

Rum Raisin Ice Cream

Adapted from Brian Mercury of Harvest

1 cup raisins

2/3 cup dark rum plus 1/4 cup divided

2 cup milk

2 cup heavy cream

2/3 cup sugar plus 1 tbsp, divided

Pinch of salt

8 egg yolks (see note below)

Soak raisins in 2/3 cup rum for 12-24 hours in the fridge.  After raisins have been soaked, combine milk, heavy cream, 2/3 cup sugar, and pinch of salt in a medium saucepan and bring to a very slow boil, being careful to stir the mixture so the milk does not burn at the bottom of the pan.  Meanwhile, beat the eggs in a medium bowl.  Once the milk mixture has been heated and the sugar has dissolved, slowly temper the eggs by placing a little of the hot milk mixture (about 1/4 cup or less at a time) into the bowl with the eggs.  Repeat this a few times, until the eggs have been warmed.  Slowly add the eggs to your milk base and cook on medium heat until the mixture thickens (and reaches 180 degrees).  

Pour the custard mixture through a strainer and cool completely, ideally in an ice bath.  (You can prepare an ice bath by sandwiching a smaller sized metal bowl on top of another bowl filled with ice cubes; pour your hot mixture into the smaller bowl.)  Alternatively, you could cool the mixture in your fridge until it's fully chilled.

Meanwhile, strain the rum from the raisins.  Set the rum aside and return the raisins to their bowl.  Add another 1/4 cup of rum to the raisins and stick them back in the fridge.  Meanwhile, heat the rum you set aside in a small pan with 1 tbsp sugar to create a rum syrup. Heat and reduce this liquid by about half (it should be about 1/4 cup).  Place rum syrup in the fridge to cool completely.

When your custard mixture is fully chilled, freeze it according to your ice cream maker's instructions (this usually takes about 25 minutes).  About 22-23 minutes in, slowly add in your chilled rum syrup and rum plumped raisins, along with the additional rum the raisins were soaked in.  Let the mixture blend for a minute or two longer.  Pack your ice cream in a container (with a tight-fitting lid) and cover it with parchment paper and then freeze it.

Makes about 1 quart

Notes:

-You'll want to start this recipe a day in advance and also plan for the custard base to chill for at least 4-6 hours (if you are not using an ice bath).

-Brian's recipe did not call for all the rum shenanigans I've mentioned.  He simply added 2/3 cup of rum straight to his milk mixture before bringing it to a boil.  I've always added booze at the final few minutes of the ice cream's freezing process.  So I freaked out for a hot minute and then decided to do a little of both by making a rum syrup, as well as adding in some straight rum.  It froze wonderfully.  (Too much booze and your ice cream won't freeze.)

-Brian's recipe called for 12 egg yolks, but this scared me.  (I don't really have a good reason why.)  So I was a wuss and used 8.

Cranberry Christmas Cordial To Keep You Warm

The snow is snowing. The wind is blowing. But I can weather the storm. What do I care, how much it may storm? I've got my love to keep me warm …

Wait, hold that Christmassy note: I meant my vodka, not love.

I came across a recipe in early November from Diary of a Locavore, aptly named “homemade Christmas spirit.” It was right around thanksgiving time; in fact, it was the last week the farmers’ market was open here in Boston. It happened by chance, but I scored the sweetest, most inspiring New England cranberries I have ever seen.

And so I doused them in vodka with some citrus, cinnamon, and cloves and just like that, this gorgeously festive spirit walked right into my life. And much like a long-lasting romance, with the right amount of forethought and a smidgen of coddling, a beautiful, beautiful cordial was made.

It’s been “maturing” in my fridge since November 22nd (and was well worth the wait). Last night, as I sat typing this, I looked out onto the streets of Beacon Hill from my full wall of windows to see the wind whipping Boston’s first snowflakes around: big and fat, but light as they fell. Gas lampposts, dressed with bright red bows, casted light onto the fallen snow. Watching all of this (and sipping some Christmas spirit) I’m not sure that I’ve ever felt more alive. Or warm—especially on the eve of a winter solstice.

This cranberry cordial may be the perfect antidote for a blustery winter night. It also reminds me of the cranberry vodka that I drank quite a bit of one cold winter at Café St. Petersburg, a Russian restaurant in Newton Center. They served little carafes of their homemade, jewel-toned—strong yet syrupy—cranberry vodka with hot cabbage pirozhok, a buttery pastry worth a commute to Russia. I typically left slightly starry-eyed from the vodka, but always in good spirits. (They might have patched up the cold war a longtime ago, if both sides had simply settled on more pirozhok and vodka and less bombs.)

This cranberry cordial is quite a match for the one they serve at Café St. Petersburg. And though I’m probably asking for it by comparing my vodka to that of a Russian’s, the Christmas notes in this recipe may be the perfect way to cap off your holiday.

The warm spices wrap around you like a blanket; allowing you to drink the cordial pleasantly, comfortably on it’s own (even if you aren’t Russian): should you care to do so. And for some holiday cheer, I passed the cordial out as gifts this year. (If there is one thing I’ve learned, it’s that vodka never goes to waste, especially around the holidays.) One friend inquired as to what she should drink with it. Gee, I said, it never crossed my mind to drink it any way other than straight.

It occurs to me it would probably be lovely a number of ways. You could reduce it and drizzle it over some roast duck (or Christmas goose?). Or simply pour it over cinnamon ice cream.

I have a feeling this cranberry cordial is going to be a new Christmas tradition, at least for as long as I can get fresh cranberries. After all, I live in New England. I need a way to weather the storm. Though, I really don’t care how much it may storm: I’ve got my Christmas spirit to keep me warm.

Cranberry 'Christmas Spirit' Cordial

2 cups sugar

1 orange, the juice and the rinds (pith removed)

about 1/4 cup water

2 cups of whole cranberries, divided

2 cinnamon sticks

5 cloves

2 cups vodka

Heat sugar, juice and zest of your orange, water and half of your cranberries in a saucepan until your cranberries just start to split. Add the rest of your cranberries and spices and cook about 5 minutes more. Let sit until the cranberry mixture comes to room temperature and then add the vodka.

Store it in a jar or container with a tight-fitting lid in a cool, dark place (the fridge works great if there is room). Let it sit for at least 2 weeks before drinking. Strain out the cranberries and spices and bottle the remaining cordial.

Makes about 4 cups

Notes

-I saved the vodka-soaked cranberries and moved them straight to my freezer (and then to my mouth). I've been snacking on them all week. They are strong, but delicious.

-If you are making this for the holidays be sure to start early: at least 2 weeks, preferably longer, before bottling (I waited a month).

-They have lovely food-grade bottles at The Container Store that work very well for bottling; you'll see them next week when I post about another liqueur I gifted. Tis the season!