I make ice cream when I crave Eton mess _ that lovely pile of broken meringue, whipped cream and strawberries so beloved in the U.K. This convoluted cooking happens to me often _ an ingredient left from one project prompts another. Egg yolks left over from making the meringues for the Eton mess mean custard or eggnog or, in this case, ice cream.
First, let's talk about Eton mess. I encountered this perfect summer dessert while bicycling in Rutland County, England. Just as in the Wisconsin favorite schaum torte and the internationally known pavlova, crunchy meringue pairs with softly whipped cream to create an Eton mess. Tender, slightly sweet acidic fruit cuts the sweetness from the meringue and the richness from the cream. The difference is in the presentation. Folklore has it that Eton mess is a pavlova that hit the pavement during a college cricket match _ hence its messy demeanor.
All the better for casual summer gatherings that don't stress the cook.
To get the mess going, I beat egg whites with superfine sugar to peaks, then bake circles into meringue crispness. For the fruit, I macerate assorted fresh berries with a bit of sugar. Barely sweetened whipped cream holds the whole thing together. Serve the mess in small bowls with a garnish of mint.
For a speedy Eton mess, I simply use packaged meringues (such as those sold in plastic tubs at Trader Joe's and Whole Foods), broken into bite-size bits, thawed frozen mixed berries and whipped topping.
As for the yolks that remain from the project, cook them gently in milk for a light, frozen custard-style of ice cream. My standard vanilla base combines mostly whole milk, heavy cream and a vanilla bean scraped to release its seeds. I'll adjust the milk-to-cream ratios depending on the audience _ more cream for company, less for family to control some calories.
Making ice cream truly is about cooking for pleasure since there are dozens of excellent commercial ice creams at most stores. I use the vanilla beans I bought in Mexico, cream and milk from a local dairy, eggs from the farmers market. We gather round while the machine does the hard work of gently beating air into the base. When the soft, mounds of fluffy ice-cold cream are ready, we stir in our favorite caramelized nuts, chopped homemade cookies or shards of special chocolate bars purchased on vacation. After a few minutes of firming the mixture in the freezer, we indulge together at the table. Not at all the solitary ritual of eating ice cream straight from the carton in front of the television.
Typically, long periods of time transpire between my ice cream-making adventures. So, I start by re-reading the ice cream maker's directions. I usually use the style of ice cream freezer with an electric motor and an insulated bowl that contains a freezer liquid. During the summer months, I leave the bowl in the freezer so a quart of ice cream can be ready quickly.
For a crowd, I make a double batch of the base recipe below and freeze it in my wooden bucket White Mountain ice cream maker. Rather than a hand crank, it has an electric motor on top and yields 4 quarts of fantastically smooth and creamy ice cream. It requires ice cubes and salt to help freeze the cream. So I plan ahead to procure those ingredients.
We have a family member that prefers sorbet to ice cream every time. So, I make his favorite lemon sorbet for a summertime treat. Like ice cream, making sorbet is not about saving money. It's about controlling the sweetness and tasting the freshness.
Eton mess, served with a dollop of homemade ice cream or lemon sorbet, to friends and family. Now there's the perfect way to celebrate summer.
