Eat More Green Stuff

I recently had a conference call during which I learned a certain grocery store chain plans to offer a program to rate the contents of your shopping basket, much like your mother might if she combed through your crumpled receipts. 

I suspect many of us have an internal dialogue about what we eat that we turn up or down like a transistor radio. But perhaps some people hope to go home and review a computer printout of their food purchases like it is a naughty or nice list from the North Pole.

A program like this brings up many questions.  It so happens—for me—I only go to this particular grocer for two very specific things: turkey subs and hot dogs. At my most recent trip, I was also lured into buying some canned beer from their liquor store warehouse. 

So it is pretty clear my report card would not be one to post on the fridge.  

At a recent dinner at the Rosebud, I debated this idea with a good friend of mine over negronis and fried vegetables. It was the kind of conversation you can have with someone you have known for nearly two decades. She pointed out a way to scam the system by paying cash for your undesirables.  I had not even thought of this, but it was a fast reminder as to why we are still friends.

It is ultimately sad that we need a computer to help decide if what we are buying is “good.” But I get it.  Marketing is powerful, and confusing, and many people find food labels to be like hieroglyphics.

Plus we are very busy and easily distracted by cookies.

But the food choices we make are also very complex.  I shop at four different spots to get what I need—and reasons for this vary from nutrition and sustainability to emotion and taste.

All are valid. And hard to judge in isolation, whether you are a machine or a human.

Take the ingredients to make this ice cream.  Fresh mint and matcha tea might make Dr. Weil happy.  But flavonols in the tea may be blunted by the addition of dairy.  Not to mention the matcha food miles. Plus the mint is not actually even eaten.

The dark chocolate is 70% cocoa, but is that enough? (Probably not.)  But it was produced locally and this allows me to implicate an unsuspecting factory in Somerville, Massachusetts in the post-rationalization of my cravings. 

And swapping brown rice syrup in place of the corn variety seems better, but is it once you consider the arsenic risk? 

All this aside, no one eats ice cream for its health benefits.  The ingredients, however, do make a very satisfying iced dessert.  It is smooth, bright, and grassy, with slight bursts of bitter chocolate. I originally added the matcha for shallow reasons (namely to impart a light green hue).  But it also contributes a vegetal note that plays very well with the mint and dark chocolate.  A computer is not going to know this. At least not yet.

So here is a little secret.  A way to simplify things.  Eight out of ten of us do not eat enough fruit and vegetables. This is not a metric that makes people very healthy.  It turns out broccoli does not have a sexy marketing campaign, either. (Though it should.)

But if you aim to eat more plants maybe, just maybe, you might have a little bargaining room for ice cream every now and again too.

Matcha Mint Chocolate Chip Ice Cream

Adapted from Jeni’s Splendid Ice Creams at Home

Ingredients:

2 cups whole milk, divided

1 tbsp plus 1 tsp cornstarch

1½ ounces (3 tbsp) cream cheese, softened

1¼ cups heavy cream

2/3 cup granulated sugar

2 tbsp brown rice syrup

pinch of salt

3 ounces fresh mint (including the stems) or about 3 cups lightly packed mint leaves (stems removed)

½ tsp matcha green tea powder

¼ tsp orange blossom water

2 ounces dark chocolate (preferably 70%), cut into small shards

Instructions:

In a small bowl, mix 2 tbsp of the whole milk with the cornstarch.  In a separate medium bowl, whisk the cream cheese until smooth. 

In a medium saucepan, combine the remaining milk, heavy cream, sugar, brown rice syrup, and salt on medium-high heat, stirring occasionally until the mixture boils.  When it reaches a slow rolling boil, continue to stir for 4 minutes more.

Meanwhile, roughly tear the mint leaves into small pieces.  Prepare a large bowl with ice and a little water and put a smaller bowl inside the larger bowl; set aside.

In a small bowl, whisk the matcha tea into the orange blossom water until a slurry forms; set aside.

Remove the saucepan from the heat and gradually add in the cornstarch mixture; return the pan back to medium-high heat and bring to a boil, stirring occasionally until it thickens (this will take a few minutes). 

Remove the saucepan from the heat and slowly whisk some of the hot liquid into the cream cheese until smooth.  Add the cream cheese mixture to the pan with the remaining liquid; add the torn mint and green matcha slurry and whisk to combine.

Pour the liquid into the prepared bowl on ice.  Let cool for about 30 minutes and then refrigerate, letting the mint steep for about 5 hours.  Strain out the mint and then return the milk mixture to the fridge (I prefer to let it chill overnight, but you can churn it once it is cold.)

When ready, churn the mixture in an ice cream machine for 20 to 25 minutes, or until it gets thick and creamy and pulls away from the sides of the bowl.  At the very end of the churning, add in the chocolate shards while the machine is still running.  Pack the ice cream in an airtight container.  Cover with parchment paper cut to fit the container and freeze for at least 4 hours.

Makes about 1 quart

Notes:

-I luck out having Taza chocolate so close.  Luckily, you can also order it online.

Double Taza Stout and Stracciatella Ice Cream Con Panna and Good Humans

Good humans are among us.  I recently started dating one.

For one, he always puts the half and half away after making coffee in the morning.  This may seem simple.  But you might want to think twice about a person willing to let your milk spoil.

He was also able to provide three concrete reasons for getting a Christmas tree this year.  The smell.  The lights.  And as a meaningful adjunct to holiday cookies.

He counts his afternoon walk to Flour Bakery, for a coffee and chocolate chip cookie, as activity points.

He is concerned about taking too many dinner helpings for fear there won’t be lunch leftovers.

And though he doesn’t play fast and loose with compliments, they are really something when he dishes them out.

They catch you off-guard. Like claiming you look gorgeous after having just brushed your teeth.  Or calling you a genius for making ice cream. 

You’ll find instructions for such praise-inducing ice cream below. A version of this one.  But featuring local stout aged on cacao nibs from the Taza chocolate factory in Somerville, Massachusetts.  Then more of the same chocolate is finely shaved with a knife and added in shards the Italians call stracciatella, meaning little tears or shreds.

Stracciatella is often made by pouring a thin stream of chocolate into cold, churning ice cream and served con panna, or with whipped cream, at your request.  And reminds me of the gelato I had in Rome over a decade ago.  So I borrowed on this memory, adding in some espresso for good measure.  The bitterness, balanced by dark beer and set upright by chocolate, somehow makes the final product even greater than its parts.

And I really can’t take credit for all of that.  The praise belongs mostly to the instruction of Jeni Britton Bauer of Jeni’s Splendid Ice Creams.  And to the fine people at Taza chocolate and Night Shift Brewing who did the heavy lifting, lending talent and honoring fine ingredients. 

But that’s the thing about cooking. The one in front of the stove gathers the spoils. You can use a blueprint belonging to someone else, selfishly add some favorite flavors, and a memory or two from your past, and suddenly you’re the genius.  The good humans who have lent part of themselves in the way of instruction, or cacao, or beer make it all possible though.

In many ways, this all makes very little sense.  And, yet, perhaps the best way to reconcile it is to pillage yet another idea. A witticism from a storyteller artist and fellow human.

“There are things you do because they feel right and they may make no sense and they may make no money and it may be the real reason we are here: to love each other and to eat other’s cooking and say it was good.” –Brian Andreas

To share, and to care, and to eat chocolate may very well be the answer.  Merry Christmas.

Double Taza Stout and Stracciatella Espresso Ice Cream Con Panna

Adapted from Jeni’s Splendid Ice Creams at Home

Ingredients

2 cups whole milk, divided

1½ tbsp cornstarch

1½ ounces cream cheese, softened

1¼ cup heavy cream

2/3 cup dark muscovado sugar

2 tbsp brown rice syrup

pinch of salt

2 tbsp instant espresso

80 grams (just shy of 3 ounces) dark chocolate (i.e. Taza), cut into small shards

½ cup chocolate stout (i.e. Night Shift Brewing Taza Stout)

Optional: ¾ cup heavy cream (for a whipped cream topping)

Instructions

In a small bowl, mix 2 tbsp of the whole milk with the cornstarch.  In a separate medium bowl, whisk the cream cheese until smooth. 

In a medium saucepan, combine the remaining milk, heavy cream, sugar, brown rice syrup, and salt on medium-high heat, stirring occasionally until the mixture boils.  When it reaches a slow rolling boil, continue to stir occasionally for 4 minutes more.

Remove pan from the heat and stir in the instant espresso until it dissolves.  Meanwhile, prepare a large bowl with ice and a little water and put a smaller bowl inside the larger bowl with ice.

Return the infused espresso milk back on medium-high heat; gradually add in the cornstarch mixture and bring to a boil, stirring occasionally until it thickens (this will take a few minutes).  Remove from heat and slowly whisk some of the hot liquid into the cream cheese until smooth.  Add the cream cheese mixture to the saucepan with the remaining liquid; add stout; whisk to combine.

Pour into the prepared bowl on ice.  Let cool for about 30 minutes and then refrigerate until fully cooled (or overnight).

When ready, churn the mixture in an ice cream machine for 20 to 25 minutes, or until it gets thick and creamy and pulls away from the sides of the bowl.  At the very end of the churning, add in the chocolate shards (we are technically cheating here, deviating from stracciatella form).  Pack the ice cream in an airtight container.  Cover with parchment paper cut to fit the container and freeze for at least 4 hours.

If desired, before serving whip ¾ cup heavy cream and top ice cream.

Makes about 1 quart.

Notes:

-Chocolate covered cacao nibs would likely be great here too for added texture, but I'd encourage the chocolate shards regardless, they melt ably in the mouth.

-The brown rice syrup here is a stand-in for corn syrup, which can be used in a pinch. As can dark brown sugar in place of the muscovado.

Chocolate Stout Coffee Ice Cream & Young

I’m going to come right out with it.  I was feeling feisty the day I made this ice cream.  Sure, I started off calm enough, with a morning yoga class and lunch at Area Four.  But things quickly veered off after the clam pizza. 

I accidentally sprayed myself with some serious sandalwood cologne that I mistook for perfume at a shop on Charles Street.  I left promptly, smelling of man forest.  Once home, I took one look at the screens my landlord hastily installed last fall—screens that actually prevent me from opening my windows—and decided they were coming down.  

I spent the next two hours with a screwdriver and Neil Young.  The scent of sandalwood lingering faintly in the background. I can certainly think of worse times.  And I would share them.  But I’m still in a Neil Young jag and “Carry On” is playing.  And so I must.

So where was I?  Oh yeah. After the screens, and a few other chores, I poured myself a cold one.  A stout.  The music got louder.  I ate brownies for dinner.  And I set out to make ice cream that was going to have beer in it. 

I ground up dark roasted coffee beans.  Cracked another pint (for the ice cream).  Knocked over some heavy cream.  Turned up “The Needle and the Damage Done.” Drank some more beer.  And then made ice cream. 

A strong ending, if you ask me.  This ice cream is assertive.  It’s unapologetic and grownup.  It’s the kind of ice cream that says: so what.  I like sturdy coffee and beer so thick and dark you can’t see your soul through it.  In fact, I’m going to make these items into dessert.  I’m going to have dessert for “dinner.”  And I’m going to reject your suffocating screens, thank you very much.  

So, sure, this ice cream is in chilly conflict with the delicate, floral ice cream I made last month.  But for something that goes “in like a lion,” lavender just ain't gonna cut it.  This is another flavor courtesy of Jeni’s Splendid Ice Creams.  She makes it at her shop around Father’s Day.  Personally, I think it’s a perfect match for March.  Perfect for the time of year that often has a little bite to it.  For when we are teetering on the edge of spring.  And perhaps looking for a way to round out the stout, sandalwood, and screwdrivers; primed and ready to let a little unruly breeze in. 

Chocolate Stout Coffee Ice Cream

Adapted from Jeni's Splendid Ice Creams at Home

2 cups whole milk

1½ tbsp cornstarch

1½ ounces cream cheese, softened

1¼ cups heavy cream

2/3 cup light brown sugar

2 tbsp light corn syrup

Pinch of salt

2 tbsp dark roast coffee beans, ground

½ cup dark chocolate stout (see notes)

Mix 2 tbsp of the whole milk with the cornstarch in a small bowl.  Whisk the cream cheese in a separate medium-sized bowl.  Combine the remaining milk, heavy cream, brown sugar, corn syrup and salt in a medium saucepan and place on medium-high heat; boil for 4 minutes, stirring occasionally to prevent the milk from scorching. 

Remove the pan from the heat and add the ground coffee beans and let steep for 5 minutes.  Meanwhile, prepare a bowl with ice and water and put a smaller bowl (ideally both metal bowls) inside the bowl filled with ice and water.  Once the grounds have steeped, strain them out using a strainer with a cheesecloth over it. Squeeze the coffee grinds in the cheesecloth to extract all the liquid that you can and then discard the grounds.

Return the milk mixture (now infused with coffee) back to the saucepan and gradually mix in the cornstarch mixture; bring the mixture to a boil over medium-high heat and stir occasionally until it thickens, which should take a minute or so. 

Remove the pan from the heat and gradually whisk some of the hot liquid into the cream cheese until the mixture is smooth.  Add the cream cheese mixture to the remaining hot liquid and then add the stout and stir to combine.  At this stage, if you have little pieces of cream cheese or too many bits of coffee grounds, you can strain the mixture again.  (The resulting ice cream will have lovely little flecks of coffee grounds, but most does get strained out.)

Pour the mixture into your bowl on ice (alternatively you could pour it into a ziplock bag and submerge the bag into the ice).  Let it cool for about 30 minutes and then stick in the fridge overnight to let the flavors meld.

The next day, churn the mixture in an ice cream machine for 20-25 minutes, or until the mixture gets thick and creamy and pulls away from the sides of the bowl of the ice cream maker.  Pack the ice cream in an airtight container.  Cover with a piece of parchment paper cut to fit the container and freeze for at least 4 hours, or until the mixture is firm.

Makes about 1 quart

Notes:

-I used Imperial Choklat Stout from Southern Tier Brewing Company.  You may wish to check out a new local company, Night Shift Brewing.  They have a Taza Stout.  You can’t buy it yet, but hopefully soon.  I'm crazy for Taza, so I'm pretty excited about this melding of local chocolate and local beer.

-Corn syrup.  She’s a controversial lady.  I’ve used brown rice syrup (also not shy from controversy recently) in its place in ice cream recipes in the past and this recipe would probably take kindly to it.  This time around I used this.

-For the coffee I used French roast coffee beans and ground them in a coffee grinder, which can also be done at the market or grocery store. 

-If you forget to soften the cream cheese ahead of time you can stick it in the microwave for a few seconds.

-Did someone say Guinness floats? Why, yes, what a wonderful idea for St. Patrick's Day! (I typically skip the blackberry in mine.)

To Strawberry Ice Cream, With Love

It has happened.

I’ve had plenty to say about lentils and garlic scapes. I’ve been filled to the brim with musings on bran muffins and mushroom flatbread. And now I can’t find a thing to say about strawberry ice cream. I’ve totally blanked. Stymied by ice cream.

Anne Lamott, in her book Bird by Bird, recommends when you are suffering from writer's block—when the words just aren’t flowing (and perhaps after you’ve freaked out and thrown stuff)—to sit down and write a letter to a mother, a son, or a childhood friend. I realize Lamott likely didn’t mean to suggest a note composed to an ice cream flavor, but in a way strawberry ice cream is like a long lost companion. And so I begin ...

My dearest strawberry ice cream,

I blame you, in all of your innocence, for my confusion with how to deal with you. You’re a frozen slurry of hope, simplicity, and sadness. Like a well worn one-eyed teddy bear, in dessert form.

You’re a cannon ball into the beginnings of summer. You remind me of balmy nights chasing fireflies just after dusk. Of putting on the screen doors for the season. Thinking of you opens up the shutters and lets the fresh air in. As I write this, I find myself humming “Summer Breeze” by Seals and Crofts. You’re blowing through the jasmine in my mind.

But also, you don’t try to pretend to be something you’re not. What you see is what you get: a light pink hue with bright strawberry bits that have sat stewing in their own juices before being mixed into cream sweetened with sugar. Some may view you as boring. But you’re more classic than clichéd.

I feel bad for you too. You’re often a cast away, the left behind flavor in Neapolitan ice cream and overlooked by most anyone past the age of eleven. Saying this now makes me realize you’re probably in need of a good therapist. You’d likely benefit from spending some time discussing your inner demons lying down on an oversized sofa. I know you have some. You’re nestled in many childhood memories, where adult-sized problems often begin. Like it or not, you probably come with some baggage.

But it’s okay. You represent flip flops and the dreams of summers past. You’re adored by tattered sentimentalists and are eaten by adults with youthful hearts. So I will think of you fondly, for always.

With sugar cones and spoons,

Emily

Strawberry Ice Cream

1.25 cups whole milk

2 cups heavy cream

1 vanilla bean, split with seeds scraped out

8 egg yolks

3/4 cup honey

~1/4 cup sugar (plus additional depending on the sweetness of your berries)

~1.5 pound strawberries, cleaned and stems removed

Pinch of salt

2 tbsp lemon juice

1 tbsp rose water

~1/4 cup framboise

In a medium saucepan combine milk and cream; add the vanilla bean seeds and pod and cook on medium heat until bubbles start to form around the edges of the pan, being careful not to let the milk burn. Remove vanilla bean pod.

Meanwhile, in a medium bowl, whisk the egg yolks and add in honey and sugar. When the milk and cream mixture has started to bubble, as mentioned above, slowly add the hot liquid to the egg mixture, whisking in a little at a time to make sure the eggs don't start to curdle. Once fully combined, return mixture to the stovetop and heat on medium, stirring constantly until the mixture thickens and coats the back of a spoon (about 6-7 minutes).

Remove the mixture from heat, strain through a fine-mesh strainer into a bowl, and set aside. Blend 3/4 of your strawberries in a food processor and then strain out the pulp; add strawberry puree to the cream base, along with the pinch of salt. At this point, you may want to taste the mixture again and whisk in additional honey, if needed. Quarter the remaining strawberries and combine with lemon juice and rose water. Place both the quartered strawberries and strawberry ice cream base in the fridge to cool, ideally overnight.

After mixture has cooled, freeze the strawberry ice cream base according to your ice cream maker's instructions, (typically this takes about 30 minutes).* Meanwhile, strain out any juice the quartered strawberries have released. About half way through the freezing process, add the strawberries and about 5 minutes before the ice cream is done, add in the framboise. Place in the freezer to finish the ice cream hardening process, ideally 2 hours or more.

Makes about 1.5 quarts

Notes:

-*Though I froze this mixture all at once, I'd recommend freezing it in 2 batches if you can. It will freeze better with less mixture.

-The framboise helps to deepen the berry flavor, while also helping the ice cream remain softer in your freezer.