coffee ice cream tart

If you like the combination of coffee and chocolate, this dessert could be your new favorite thing. My mother-in-law Judy made it for our Fourth of July dinner from a Dorie Greenspan cookbook I gave her for Mother's Day. Like Dorie, Judy is a big fan of these flavors and was looking forward to making it for everyone. Although Dan's dad has the sweet tooth of a 16-year-old, two people can't eat a whole tart by themselves. (Well, maybe Dan and I could, but probably not the average two people.)

Unlike a lot of ice cream-based desserts, this truly is a tart. Under some fancied-up chocolate ice cream (Dorie recommends adding almond extract, nutmeg, and ground almonds, which makes it extra rich and flavorful), there is a chocolate-lined, shortbread-like crust on the bottom. The overall effect is like eating cookies and very, very good ice cream.

Other than its size and decadence, the other thing that makes this tart a special occasion dessert is that it takes awhile to make. Almost all day, to be honest. But stay with me here--before you click away to another food blog, Judy said it was a leisurely process, a lot of little steps that took a little time, spread out throughout the day. Dorie calls the recipe "undemanding" and "patient," which are very nice qualities in people, as well as desserts.

Another bonus is that the tart can keep (well-covered, in an airtight container) in the freezer for up to two months, so if you know you have a dinner coming up, you can make it in advance when you've got a day around the house planned. It's the perfect thing to make in between washing a few loads of laundry, doing a crossword, or while having an hours-long phone conversation with a friend.

Coffee ice cream tart
Adapted from Dorie Greenspan's Baking: From My Home to Yours. One drawback to the tart is that the crust was pretty hard. It was easy to eat, but not as easy to cut. Judy used a 9 1/2-inch tart pan, which may have caused this, but when making the recipe, I'd make a thinner layer of cookie dough.
(Makes one 10 or 11-inch tart)

1 cup (4 oz.) toasted slivered almonds (or sliced blanched almonds)
3/4 cup all-purpose flour
1/3 cup (packed) light brown sugar
1/2 tsp. nutmeg
pinch of salt
1/2 stick (4 Tbsp.) cold unsalted butter, cut into 4 pieces
1 large egg
1/2 tsp. almond extract
2 oz. bittersweet chocolate, chopped

For the filling:
1 cup (4 oz.) toasted slivered almonds (or sliced blanched almonds)
1 quart good-quality coffee ice cream
1/2 tsp. almond extract or 1 Tbsp. amaretto
pinch of nutmeg
2 oz. bittersweet chocolate, chopped, for decoration

To make the crust: Lightly butter a 10- or 11-inch fluted tart pan and line a baking sheet with parchment or a silicone mat (Judy skipped this step.)

Put the almonds, flour, sugar, nutmeg, and salt in a food processor and pulse for about 10 seconds, or until the nuts are coarsely chopped. Toss in the pieces of butter and pulse until the dough resembles coarse meal. Add the egg and extract and continue to pulse until the dough forms clumps and large curds, about 10 seconds. Turn the dough out into the tart pan and wipe out the processor. (You'll use it for the filling.)

Press the dough evenly over the bottom and up the sides of the tart pan. Freeze for 30 minutes. (if you'd like once the dough is frozen, you can wrap the tart pan and keep it in the freezer for up to 2 months.)

Baking: Center a rack in the oven and preheat the oven to 400 degrees. Butter a piece of aluminum foil and press it, buttered side down, snugly into the tart pan; put the tart pan on the baking sheet. Bake the shell for 20 minute, then remove the foil. If the crust has puffed, press it down with the back of a fork. Bake the crust for another 8 minutes or so, until it is firm and golden. Transfer to a cooling rack.

Scatter the chopped chocolate over the bottom of the hot crust and use a small spatula to spread it even. Cool the crust to room temperature.

To Make the Filling: Put the almonds in the processor and pulse and process until they form a paste, a minute or two. (They never formed a paste for me). Add the ice cream, extract or amaretto and the nutmeg and pulse the machine on and off in quick spurts until the ingredients are just blended -- don't process so long that the ice cream melts. Scrape the ice cream into the tart shell and smooth the top. Put the tart in the freezer for at least 30 minutes.

To decorate: Melt the chocolate then pipe it or drizzle with fork. Slide the tart into the freezer to set the chocolate, about 5 minutes, then cover and freeze for at least 4 hours.

dinner party on shelterrific

Fresh herbs are one of my favorite things to pick up at the farmers' market this time of year. Giant bags of basil, rubber band-wrapped bundles of flowering thyme, and fragrant bunches of mint can be had for just a few bucks. The problem? Using up all those herbs before they turn to scary black goo.

I've got a post on Shelterrific today about my solution: herb syrups. I love making different flavors to use in homemade sodas and cocktails. A few weeks ago in Florida, I turned basil syrup into my favorite basil lemonade, inspired by the abundance of basil in my parents' backyard. We almost went through a gallon of it at a family dinner.

Nothing more than herbs steeped in sugar and water, infused simple syrups are truly simple to whip up but make you feel ridiculously fancy. I dream of having a whole rack of different flavors labeled in pretty glass bottles at my disposal. The trouble is, they never last that long. Read more about it over on Shelterrific.

link-o-rama

Have you had your first picnic of the summer yet? Your annual backyard wiener roast? (Do people still say "wiener"?) Whether you're gearing up to have your first big party of the summer or your sixth, here's a round-up of links for inspiration:

Three make-ahead summer party menus from New York chefs. On first glance, the dishes look deceptively complicated--due to some very gorgeous photos--but after a closer look, these menus really do look pretty easy. Also, the Vampiro Cocktail, a tequila-based bloody Mary, is my new favorite drink name. (Ideal for True Blood viewing parties, perhaps?) [via NY Mag]

If you want to go beyond burgers and hot dogs, Food & Wine has some sophisticated and healthy grilling recipes (beef tenderloin "dogs", trout with smoky tomatillo sauce) [via F&W]

Picnic tips and recipes, whether you're in a park, on the beach, or on a camping trip. [via BA]

If you can still find Meyer lemons in your part of the world, Gourmet recommends squeezing them over a mix of lemonade and beer to make a Meyer lemon shandy. [via Gourmet]

Smitten Kitchen makes a lemony goat cheese-zucchini pizza. [via Smitten Kitchen]

And for a grand finale dessert, honey-bourbon-caramel peach pie. Woah. [via Sassy Radish]

on family, and the fourth

Some people worry about getting their in-laws together. I did when Dan and I started dating. Even though our parents live in the same city, I thought that they couldn't be any more different. What would we all talk about? His parents go to Paris on vacation, mine go to the mountains in Colorado. My parents like banana bread for breakfast, his parents like lox on bagels. My dad is in construction, his dad is in the magazine business. Some of us drink, others do not. What if everyone just hated each other? The anticipation made me a little crazy. So much so that I didn't allow them to get together and actually meet each other until we got engaged.

Luckily, my worrying was pointless and the great lox vs. banana bread argument never happened. Getting along wasn't an issue for our parents and they even hang out without us. They have several key things in common: similar political views, a strong bond with their only children, and a love of dogs. (Pets are the best icebreaker. Especially ones this cute.)

They also like to barbecue, which makes for easy get-togethers when we visit. We've started a tradition of going to Dan's parents' house for the Fourth of July, because they live walking distance from the city's big fireworks display. While it's still light out, we fire up the grill and eat snacks around the pool until the mosquitoes make us crazy. This year, there was shrimp cocktail on ice and some charred onion dip that I made. Creamy, with bits of caramelized onion running through, it was like a grown-up version of the soup mix dip I grew up eating.

Thoroughly bug-bitten and sweaty, we went into the house to soak up the air conditioning and eat a big meal. Judy, my mother-in-law, grilled tiny lamb chops. We sat around the beautifully set table and gnawed on the dainty bones, discussing Sarah Palin and Michael Jackson, the big bombshells of the weekend. Baking is Judy's strong suit (although she can grill a mean lamb chop) so there is always, always dessert at these get-togethers. We devoured her coffee ice cream tart drizzled with chocolate and a few juicy grilled peaches, made by Dan.


After dinner, we walked to watch the fireworks over the nearby Intracoastal Waterway. Dan and his mom sat on the sea wall, and Dan's dad chatted with my parents and me. The breeze picked up, and it almost felt pleasant, a rare thing in July in South Florida. As the explosions started, we oohed and ahhed, picking out our favorite ones. I leaned on my dad's shoulder, feeling content. It was silly to worry so much in the beginning--people always come together over the simplest things: a cool breeze, some grilled meat, ice cream, and fireworks in the sky.

Fourth of July '09

Shrimp cocktail

Charred onion dip

Grilled lamb chops

Greek salad

Roasted potatoes

Coffee ice cream tart

Grilled peaches with ice cream

Charred onion dip

I found this recipe, adapted from Frank Stitt’s Bottega Favorita, via the fantastic Lottie & Doof. I upped the mustard and Worcestershire sauce for extra oomph, but taste as you go and adjust the ingredients to your own preference.

(Makes about 3 cups)

2 cups sour cream

1 Tbsp. Mascarpone (I used room temperature cream cheese)
2 tsp. whole-grain mustard
6 dashes Tabasco sauce
2 Tbsp. thinly sliced chives (or green onions)
Juice of 1/2 lemon
2 dashes Worcestershire sauce
Two 1/2-inch-thick slices charred red onion, finely chopped (I used one medium-sized onion cut into three slices; you could use two onions for a chunkier dip.)
Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper

Combine sour cream, Mascarpone, mustard, Tabasco, chives, lemon juice, and Worcestershire in a medium bowl. Fold in chopped onions, taste the mixture and season with salt, pepper and additional Tabasco if needed.

fruits of our non labor

Even though my entire childhood and a good part of my adult life was spent in Florida, whenever I come back to visit, I'm always surprised—even a little shocked—by my former home's natural beauty. The fruit trees! The sunsets! The neon-green iguana running around my parents' backyard! Maybe my newfound appreciation for nature has something to do with living in New York, or maybe I always took my tropical surroundings for granted.

On a walk with my dad last week, we noticed dozens of bright red lychees scattered across the sidewalk. They weren't someone's spilled snack. Looking up, we were surprised to find a tree heavy with fruit. I was stunned. Lychees—who knew? Although most of them were split open and roasting in the sun, the jaded New Yorker in me did a mental calculation of how much lychees cost per pound in the grocery store. In Florida, they are a tropical feast for the ants.

And it's the same with avocados, bananas, starfruit, citrus, herbs—everything is overgrown from the constant rain. Coupled with the stupefying heat, Florida summers are lush and heady.

I've written before about the neverending bounty of mangoes in my parents' house, and this summer is no exception. I came home to find dozens ripening on the kitchen windowsill and in baskets, my parents clearly losing their taste for them by the day. You can only puree and freeze so many batches. But it feels wrong to waste mangoes, even though in almost every South Florida backyard there are piles of rotten fruit left by people who are overwhelmed by their overproductive trees.

Always enterprising, Mom Googled a recipe for mango ketchup after reading about it in a magazine. I had my doubts—it didn't contain tomatoes or tomato paste, so would it really taste like ketchup? But we had nothing but time and mangoes on our hands, so we tried it.

After adding some spices to mango puree and simmering the mixture until it cooked down, the sauce became sweet and fragrant, like a fruity barbecue sauce. Not quite a ketchup in my book, but a tasty condiment all the same. And because it was made in Florida, it was essentially free.


Mango ketchup

This sauce, adapted from Allen Susser from Chef Allen's restaurant, is sweet and spicy, much like a fruity barbecue sauce. You can serve it on burgers, like we did, but chicken, pork chops, and lamb would also work really well.

(Makes about 3 cups)

4 medium mangoes, pitted, peeled, and chopped

2 oz. white wine vinegar

1 Tbsp. ground ginger

1/4 tsp. cinnamon

1 tsp. salt

1/2 cup sugar

1/2 cup white or rose wine

1/2 tsp. allspice

1/4 tsp. cayenne pepper or chipotle powder

1/2 tsp. ground cloves

Puree the mangoes in a blender or food processor until smooth. Add all other ingredients and puree until combined. In a heavy saucepan over low heat, cook the mixture until reduced and thickened. Remove from the heat and cool. Strain the mixture through a sieve. Refrigerate overnight to allow the flavors to meld.

out of office autoreply

Dan and I are taking some time off to be with our family in South Florida, where I plan on doing this for the next few days. And a little cooking too, of course.

Enjoy the holiday weekend,
Lisa

link-o-rama, fourth of july edition

It's our patriotic duty to barbecue and picnic this weekend—rain and muggy weather be damned. So what to make? Here are some links for inspiration:

Horseradish potato salad (with fetching purple potatoes) [via Smitten Kitchen]

Maple-bourbon barbecue sauce for grilled meat or to swirl into baked beans [via Pithy & Cleaver]

Fun summer drinks (margaritas made with beer, rhubarb-basil cocktails, mango coladas) [via The Kitchn]

Three words to start your salivary glands: charred onion dip [via Lottie & Doof]

And here are a few of my favorite summer recipes from the newly-reorganized Dinner Party archives:

Drinks:
Basil lemonade
Gordon's Cup
Palomas
Pimms Cups
Watermelon aguas frescas

Starters:
Elote
Pineapple salsa
Salami-wrapped Mean Beans
Sausage rolls
Tuna-stuffed peppers

Main dishes and sides:
Asian slaw
Corn, radish, and tomato salad
Kitchen sink summer salad
Oven-fried picnic chicken
Panzanella
Pasta salad with chickpeas, tomato, and feta
Shrimp rolls
Summer melon with cucumber, feta, and basil

Desserts:
Brownies
Key lime pie
Oatmeal coconut raspberry bars
Peanut butter brownies
Strawberry sorbet
Three-layer ice cream cake