Tart Cherry Tart, aka Sour Cherry Crostata

At the beginning of the month, I read an article in the Wall Street Journal reporting that nearly all of Michigan's Montmorency cherry crop has been lost this year due to weather conditions. As a precautionary measure, I immediately stocked up on a massive supply of dried Montmorency cherries. Knowing about the cherry shortage in Michigan made me particularly happy to see sour cherries at the farmers market this year.

While pie is my Achilles' heel, I can happily make tarts all day long, so I decided to try an epicurious.com recipe for "Sour Cherry Crostata." This tart has a cookie-like crust (butter, sugar, egg, vanilla, flour, salt, lemon zest) that you make in the mixer and chill before rolling out. The filling is cherries, butter, and sugar cooked together and thickened with cornstarch. You use quite a bit of cornstarch (three tablespoons to thicken less than two pounds of cherries), so the filling was very thick. After the filling is cooled, you spread it in the chilled tart shell and lay across strips of dough to form a quick lattice (no weaving is required), brush the strips with egg, sprinkle on sugar, and bake.

This tart was just beautiful out of the oven. The cherry juices did bubble and overflow during baking, but because I always bake tarts on a foil-lined baking sheet, this didn't cause a serious problem. It also released cleanly from the tart pan for easy cutting and serving.

The filling was so thick in the finished tart that there was absolutely no seepage of cherry juices during cutting. If anything, the gelatinous filling seemed slightly unnatural, like something that might have come out of a can. But it was still tasty, and I liked this tart. The lemon zest in the crust added a lovely bright flavor. The crust had a nice firm texture and was evenly cooked (I tend to have a problem with soggy or undercooked crusts whenever I make pies), and I loved the fact that the tart was so tidy. 

I can't really complain about this tart, because it was gorgeous and tasted good. That said, there was nothing about it that made it special or particularly memorable. The day before I made this tart, I enjoyed a slice of cherry pie made by a colleague; his pie crust was more flaky, buttery and flavorful than my tart crust. But I have no regrets about putting all of my 2012 fresh sour cherry supply into a couple of these tarts!

Recipe: "Sour Cherry Crostata," from epicurious.com.

Previous Post: "This Tart Sticks With You: Lattice-Topped Apple Tart," October 27, 2011.

What's a Backyard Barbecue Without Corn?: Corn Ice Cream Sandwiches

For our wine tasting dinner last weekend, I wanted to make a few desserts so I could provide some variety for our guests. Even though I had already decided to make a rhubarb mascarpone mousse cake, I wanted to make sure I had something to suit every taste, especially because I wasn't familiar with everyone's food preferences. I thought that ice cream was a perfect dessert for a causal outdoor dinner on a pleasant day in June, and I was eager to try more the recipes from Jeni's Splendid Ice Creams at Home.

One recipe that had caught my eye early on was "Sweet Corn & Black Raspberry Ice Cream." I am a fan of all things corn, and to me, sweet corn is one of the highlights of summer. Plus, sweet corn is a staple of backyard barbecues, but we weren't actually serving any with dinner, so I thought a corn ice cream course would be perfect. Then I got the idea to pair the ice cream with Momofuku Milk Bar Corn Cookies -- which taste exactly like buttered, salted corn -- to make ice cream sandwiches.

The sweet corn ice cream recipe includes a black raspberry swirl, although Jeni also suggests using half raspberries and half blackberries you can't get black raspberries. I was planning to make the raspberry/blackberry substitution, since black raspberries are rarely available. But I happened to see some lovely ones at the farmer's market, and so I was able to make the black raspberry sauce (black raspberries boiled with sugar, strained, and cooled). I was very glad I found the black raspberries, because the sauce had an incredible depth of flavor.

To make the corn ice cream, you cut slice the kernels off an ear of sweet corn and also extract the juices and remaining bits from the cob by running the back of a knife along it. You cook the corn kernels and juices with milk, cream, sugar, and corn syrup and boil the mixture for four minutes. (A version of the recipe that appeared in the New York Times also instructs you cook the corn cob along with the other ingredients; the version in the cookbook does not.) Then you strain it to remove the kernels, whisk in a slurry of corn starch mixed with milk, bring it back to a boil until thickened, and then whisk it into a mixture of cream cheese and a little salt. You chill the mixture in an ice bath, freeze it in an ice cream maker, and then layer it alternately with the black raspberry sauce in a container.

I didn't want the ice cream sandwiches to be too big, so I baked the corn cookies smaller than usual; I used a #30 scoop, which yielded 24 cookies from a batch of dough. The ice cream was white, with dark purple streaks of the raspberry sauce -- there's no way anyone would have guessed that the ice cream was corn flavored just by looking at it. These ice cream sandwiches were incredibly delicious. The ice cream does in fact taste exactly like corn, the black raspberry sauce is insanely good, and the corn-black raspberry combination is surprisingly harmonious. The corn cookies and corn ice cream were perfectly paired. The only problem was that the cookies were a bit difficult to eat frozen, so the easiest way to eat a sandwich was to pull it apart and each half separately, as you might do with an Oreo.

There was something so whimsical and fun about these ice cream sandwiches. Eating one of them is tasting the very essence of summer!

Recipes:

• "Corn Cookies" from Momofuku Milk Bar, by Christina Tosi.
• "Sweet Corn & Black Raspberry Ice Cream," from Jeni's Splendid Ice Creams at Home Jeni Britton Bauer, recipe available here from the New York Times.

Previous Post: "Accept No Substitutes: Corn Cookies," March 20, 2012.

A Measure of Rhubarb Redemption: Rhubarb-Mascarpone Mousse Cake

My husband Tom organized a dinner and Jura wine tasting at our house last weekend, and I saw it as an opportunity to gain some measure of rhubarb redemption. Our friends Tim and Meghan were going to be among the guests, and I wanted to make a dessert that was better than the soggy rhubarb tart I recently made for them.

I found what looked like the perfect recipe on epicurious.com for a Rhubarb-Mascarpone Mousse Cake; it's a "fancy" dessert assembled in a cake ring that consists of a yellow cake filled with a layer of fruit preserves, covered in rhubarb-mascarpone mousse, topped with a thin layer of rhubarb gelatin.

You make the cake from butter, sugar, egg, vanilla, flour, baking powder, salt, and milk. The cake was quite short, so after I leveled it, it was just barely tall enough for me to split into two layers. I filled the cake with strawberry preserves and placed it in the middle of 10-inch cake ring, on top of a cardboard cake circle.

To make the mousse, I cooked rhubarb with sugar and water and simmered it until the it fell apart and the mixture reduced. I strained the rhubarb (saving one cup of bright red rhubarb syrup) and added in some gelatin dissolved in water. After the rhubarb was cool, I folded it into a mixture of mascarpone, heavy cream, vanilla, and sugar that had been beaten to stiff peaks. I poured the mousse over the cake in the cake ring, filling in the space between the edge of the cake and the ring. After the mousse was chilled and firm, I poured over the red glaze made from the reserved rhubarb syrup and gelatin.

This cake was beautiful. I was surprised at how smooth and subtle the flavors were. The tartness of the rhubarb was really tempered in the mascarpone mousse, and aside from the burst of sweetness from the strawberry preserves, the cake was not very sweet. That said, the flavor profile overall is very fruity. One dinner guest took a bite and immediately exclaimed, "It tastes like the inside of a jelly doughnut!" The cake has a tender texture and a clean flavor that is a very good base for carrying the mousse and preserves. The gelatin layer -- while quite pretty -- is so thin that it doesn't really add anything in terms of flavor or texture

The cake is just lovely. The flavors are elegant and understated, and it certainly is a looker. Redemption tastes sweet!

Recipe: "Rhubarb-Mascarpone Mousse Cake" from epicurious.com.

Previous Posts:

• "A Softy for Tarts: Rhubarb-Streusel Tart," June 7, 2012.
• "Only the Color Is a Washout: Rhubarb Upside-Down Cake," June 15, 2012.

Baked Sunday Mornings: Aunt Sabra King's Pudding Bars

Today's recipe for Baked Sunday Mornings is Aunt Sabra King's Pudding Bars, a recipe I most likely never would have tried if it wasn't for the baking group. After all, chocolate pudding on a graham cracker crust just doesn't sound all that interesting. Plus, I was imagining the huge mess that was bound to ensue; I assumed that pudding would never be firm enough to cut cleanly.

The graham cracker crust is a mixture of ground graham crackers, dark brown sugar, salt, and melted butter that is pressed into the bottom of a 9-inch by 13-inch pan. The recipe instructs you to bake the crust for 10 minutes, or "until it is golden brown." It was hard for me to tell when the crust was done, because graham crackers are of course golden brown to begin with. I ended up baking the crust for about 12 minutes; the crust was still soft to the touch when I took it out of the oven, so I wasn't confident that it was fully cooked.

You make the chocolate pudding from cornstarch, sugar, egg yolks, vanilla, milk, cream, and whiskey (I left out the alcohol). You are supposed to let the pudding cool for about 20 minutes before pouring it onto the cooled graham cracker crust. After my pudding had cooled for about 5 minutes, I noticed a skin starting to form on top. Since skin is the enemy of pudding, I stirred the pudding for the next 15 minutes while it continued to cool so a skin wouldn't form. I poured the cooled pudding onto the crust, smoothed it out with an offset spatula, and set the bars in the fridge to firm up.

The next morning when I cut the bars, I was absolutely delighted to see that the pudding was quite firm and the slices were holding their shape nicely. Plus, the crust was nice and crisp. I served the bars without any garnish, and even though they were merely pudding on a graham cracker crust, the bars were rich, delicious, and surprisingly satisfying. I used 70% chocolate for the pudding, and it was very chocolately and not too sweet. I suppose that if you added whipped cream, these would be a bar version of a chocolate cream pie.

I really loved these bars, and the fact that they were so easy to make was a bonus. They deliver simple, clean, delicious flavors.

Recipe: "Aunt Sabra King's Pudding Bars" from Baked Explorations: Classic American Desserts Reinvented, by Matt Lewis and Renato Poliafito, recipe available here at Baked Sunday Mornings.

Only the Color Is a Washout: Rhubarb Upside-Down Cake

I was still smarting a bit from my recent experience with a disappointing rhubarb tart when I spotted some gorgeous rhubarb at the farmer's market last weekend. I couldn't help myself and I bought three pounds. Then I came home and scoured my cookbooks for rhubarb ideas. While I was tempted by several other rhubarb tart recipes, I decided to take a completely different route and try Emily Luchetti's recipe for "Rhubarb Upside-Down Cake" from Four-Star Desserts.

I had enough rhubarb to make two cakes. You clean and slice the rhubarb into 3/4-inch pieces, toss them with sugar, and then spread the rhubarb into the bottom of a 9-inch by 3-inch cake pan lined with parchment paper. For each cake, you toss one and a quarter pounds of sliced rhubarb with 3/4 cup of sugar; there was so much sugar that it looked like the rhubarb was coated with snow. Then you make a cake batter from butter, dark brown sugar, vanilla, milk, flour, baking powder, salt, spices (cinnamon, ginger, and cloves), sugar, and egg whites. You beat the egg whites separately with sugar to soft peaks and fold them into the batter at the end, so the batter was light and airy. You spread the batter on top of the rhubarb and bake.

If you make this recipe, you do have to use a 3-inch high pan as specified. The cake rose quite a bit in the oven and it would have overflowed a 2-inch high pan (although it sank a bit upon cooling). I turned out the cakes after they had cooled for about 20 minutes, as directed. The color of the rhubarb was washed out after baking and I thought the cakes were rather homely; I was not optimistic about how they would taste. Tom and I each sampled a warm slice and we were both surprised at how much we loved the cake.

The cake itself is wonderful -- springy, tender, and very moist, with a light touch of spice. I usually don't like spice cake, but the delicate flavor of the cake was comforting and homey. The rhubarb is almost a secondary garnish. To be honest, if I ate a piece of this cake blindfolded and didn't know what it was, I'm not sure if I would be able to identify it as rhubarb. The rhubarb is completely soft after cooking, and it had a nondescript fruity-tart flavor. But the juiciness of the rhubarb definitely makes this cake more interesting (it basically contains its own sauce, typical of an upside-down cake) and its flavor complements the cake well.

Overall, I was very happy with this cake. While it was particularly tasty while warm, it was still quite good the next day. I have to think that the cake would be delicious with other fruits as well. This cake might not look like much, but there is definitely more going on here than meets the eye.

Recipe: "Ruhbarb Upside-Down Cake" from Four-Star Desserts, by Emily Luchetti.

Previous Posts:

• "A Softy for Tarts: Rhubarb-Streusel Tart," June 7, 2012.
• "How Can Upside Down Be So Right?: Plum Upside-Down Cake," October 3, 2011.

This Confection is Perfection: Chocolate Caramel Pretzel Tart

One of the benefits to being in the Baked Sunday Mornings baking group is that I get some great ideas from the other bakers in the group -- not only for the recipes from Baked Explorations that we're all making, but also for completely unrelated recipes. In writing up our most recent assignment of strawberry Jell-O salad, talented baker Bourbonnatrix mentioned how much she likes pretzel crusts and referenced an "insanely delicious" chocolate dulce de leche pretzel tart. Bourbonnatrix had adapted the tart recipe from Amandeleine, who in turn had created it by combining elements from two different recipes from Food and Wine and epicurious.com. I decided to try Amandeleine's chocolate caramel pretzel tart recipe.

You make the pretzel crust for this tart by combining butter, crushed pretzels, powdered sugar, flour, and an egg. You chill the dough, roll it out, line a tart pan with the dough, chill the crust, and then blind bake it. Amandeleine warns that the dough will be very sticky. In fact, it is ridiculously sticky. I made this tart twice, and rolling out the dough between two sheets of parchment was no problem -- but getting the dough off of the paper and into the pan in one piece is comically challenging. Some patching was definitely required.

After the crust is baked and cooled, you brush on a thin layer of melted chocolate. Then you fill the crust with chocolate ganache (heavy cream and chocolate) and caramel (water, sugar, cream, butter, vanilla, and salt). You top it off with more crushed pretzels and some drizzles of reserved ganache.

When I cut and served this tart, I was a little surprised to discover that it makes a perfect hand food. The crust is nice and sturdy and the easiest way to eat it is to pick it up with your fingers and eat it like you would a slice of pizza. This tart is amazing. The crust is ultra crunchy, and with the chocolate and caramel, it reminded me a lot of a Take 5 candy bar without the peanuts and peanut butter, or perhaps a Twix, if they came in pretzel a pretzel variety (why on earth don't they have pretzel Twix?!).

This tart definitely reads more like a candy bar than a tart, but I didn't mind at all, because it tastes like a really, really, delicious candy bar. I am always a fan of salty-sweet desserts, but this particular combination of pretzel, chocolate, and caramel is just perfect together, and the fabulous crunch of the crust and pretzels along with the chewy caramel puts this tart over the top. Tom declares this to be his favorite tart of all time. Just looking at the picture above makes me very sad that I don't have a slice to eat right now!

Recipe: "Chocolate Caramel Pretzel Tart," recipe from Amandeleine.

This Outrage is All Right: Outrageous Pretzel Bars

Thanks to my baking group, Baked Sunday Mornings, I recently discovered the joy of strawberry Jell-O salad with pretzel crust. The wonderful salty-creamy-crunchy-sweet character of the Jell-O salad got me wondering about other pretzel desserts I've been missing; I have used pretzels in several types of cookies (see, e.g., here, here, and here), but that's about the extent of my pretzel use in baking applications. I found a recipe on the Food and Wine website that I decided to try: Outrageous Pretzel Bars.

One reason I was interested in this recipe is that it calls for "hard pretzels," which I assumed meant hard sourdough  pretzels. Since these pretzels are much crunchier than the thin pretzels I normally use in baking, I was curious to see how this would affect the end product. The pretzel bars are have a layer of something analogous to chocolate chip cookie dough on the bottom (butter, dark brown sugar, sugar, eggs, vanilla, flour, baking soda, salt, and chocolate chips), followed by a creamy chocolate layer (condensed milk and melted chocolate chips), and are topped with crushed hard pretzels that have been tossed with melted butter and a little sugar. You spread the first two layers in a pan, sprinkle on the pretzels, and then bake.

The bottom layer of these bars rose quite a bit, but only around the edges of the pan -- so the middle part of the pan was sunken in comparison. After the bars were cool, cutting them was slightly messy. I had not pressed the pretzels pieces into the chocolate layer before baking, but merely sprinkled them on top. As a result, quite a few pretzel pieces were loose and fell off during cutting. In addition, the chocolate layer is not firm at all -- it's the consistency of frosting and it tended to squish out when I applied pressure with a knife to the hard pretzel pieces on top of it.

These bars were not what I was expecting at all. I thought they would be a chocolate chip cookie topped with a brownie and pretzels. But the bottom layer was the consistency of cake, not a cookie. And the middle layer was not like a brownie at all, but creamy. That said, these bars were really delicious! The flavor of the bottom layer is fairly indistinct, but the chocolate flavor in the bars comes through clearly. The best part was the salty, crunchy, buttered pretzels. Using hard sourdough pretzels makes these bar supercrunchy and outrageously tasty.

Recipe: "Outrageous Pretzel Bars" from foodandwine.com.

A Softy for Tarts: Rhubarb-Streusel Tart

Recently our friends Tim and Meghan invited us over to dinner, and I was too shy to proactively offer to bring a dessert. Tim is a former professional chef who has worked at outstanding restaurants, including Ristorante Tosca and Citronelle. I figured that Tim had his own vision for executing the dinner and I didn't want to interfere. So I was actually quite flattered when Tim passed on a request to my husband that I bring a dessert. I asked Tim what his and his wife's baked goods preference was, and he gave me only two suggestions: preferably not chocolate-based, and preferably not cream-based. I thought that something in the fruit tart category would be suitable, and since rhubarb was in season, I decided to try François Payard's "Rhubarb-Streusel Tart."

You make the crust for this tart in the food processor from powdered sugar, flour, salt, softened butter, and an egg. You form the dough into a disk, chill it, roll it out, place it in a tart pan, chill it again, and then partially blind bake the crust. You make the filling for the tart by simmering a mixture of rhubarb, sugar, butter, and orange juice for 5 minutes, cooling the mixture, and then draining it. The recipe includes a warning not to overcook the rhubarb, or it will be mushy. I only boiled the rhubarb for about 2 minutes, but unfortunately that short time was enough to turn the rhubarb mushy.

At the time that I discovered I had mushy rhubarb -- only about 3 hours before we were due at dinner -- I didn't really have many options. I knew that our Whole Foods didn't have any more rhubarb, because the two pounds of rhubarb I had purchased earlier in the day was the store's entire supply. Also, as rhubarb is often combined with strawberry, I had already made a batch of roasted strawberry and buttermilk ice cream earlier in the day to go along with the tart. I didn't want to have to come up with an entirely new dessert to pair with the ice cream -- not to mention the difficulty of coming up with any dessert that I could execute in such a short time regardless of whether strawberry ice cream would be an appropriate complement. So, I forged ahead with the mushy rhubarb and crossed my fingers.

To assemble the tart, you sprinkle a bit of flour and sugar on the partially-baked tart crust, spoon on the rhubarb filling, and then add a streusel topping made of softened butter, sugar, almond flour, and all-purpose flour.

I was quite worried that the mushy rhubarb filling would cause the tart crust to become soggy. The tart looked fine coming out of the oven, but I had to take it to dinner while it was still warm, so I wasn't able to unmold it and examine the bottom crust beforehand.

At this point, I must digress briefly to say that the dinner Tim cooked us was unquestionably the finest meal I have ever had the pleasure of enjoying at anyone's home. Each of the four courses (pea soup with scallops, soft shell crab, duck, and beef) was exquisite. With each impeccably-seasoned bite of dinner, my anxiety over dessert was growing; I already knew the tart was imperfect, and after such a technically flawless meal, I also knew that its faults would only be more obvious.

When we finally got to dessert and Tim cut and served the tart, I could see right away that the crust was in fact soggy. The slices were pathetically limp. That said, the tart tasted fine. The rhubarb filling definitely would have been better if it had more texture instead of being like a jam, but the rhubarb flavor came through clearly. The saving grace of this tart was the streusel topping, which was both delicious and crunchy. It almost (but only almost) made up for the soft crust. The smooth and silky strawberry ice cream was very good and also helped the tart go down a little easier. I would love to make this tart again and see how it comes out when the rhubarb is properly cooked.

Given the problem with the mushy rhubarb and soggy crust, I would have considered this tart disappointing in any circumstance. But following such an extraordinary dinner, I felt just awful. Fortunately, Tim and Meghan are not only exceptionally kind and generous hosts, but very gracious ones as well. And the rest of the meal was so incredible that a dessert course was entirely gratuitous anyway.

I truly believe that cooking is a labor of love, and I will always be grateful to Tim and Meghan for sharing this unforgettable evening with us.

Recipes:

• "Rhubarb-Streusel Tart" from Simply Sensational Desserts, by François Payard.  
• "Roasted Strawberry and Buttermilk Ice Cream" from Jeni's Splendid Ice Creams at Home, by Jeni Britton Bauer.

Baked Sunday Mornings: Strawberry Jell-O Salad

I was completely skeptical about this week's recipe for Baked Sunday Mornings, "Strawberry Jell-O Salad." This dessert was completely foreign to me, and I never would have attempted it if it wasn't on the baking group schedule. I had no idea what to expect, but I didn't expect much.

This dish has a pretzel crust made from crushed pretzels, butter, and dark brown sugar. I ground the pretzels in the food processor, but I didn't want to make the pieces too small since the instructions warn you not to overprocess them into a powder. Because most of my pieces were quite chunky, the crust didn't hold together very well; in the future, I would grind half of the pretzels into dust and leave the other half chunky. The pretzel dust combines with the butter and brown sugar to form a sort of pretzel mortar that holds the crust together; I had some mortar, but not enough.

After you bake the crust and cool it, you spread on layer of cream cheese that is mixed with sugar and lightened with whipped cream. I was slightly concerned that the recipe called for granulated sugar instead of powdered, but the sugar dissolved completely and the texture of this layer was nice and smooth.

The final layer is strawberry Jell-O with sliced strawberries, which you have to make a little in advance so that it is already partially set by the time you pour it onto the cream cheese layer.  After a little more time in the fridge so that the Jell-O can completely set up, the salad is ready to cut and serve.

Because my pretzel crust wasn't firm, it was a bit of a challenge to cut, serve, and eat these bars. It would have been easier to scoop the salad out of the pan with a spoon instead of cutting it into bars, and a fork or spoon was required to eat it. That said, I absolutely loved this dessert. The salty crunch of the pretzels, with the tangy creaminess of the the cream cheese layer, and the cold and wobbly fruity Jell-O combined to make something that was utterly delightful. The two comments I heard repeatedly from tasters were that the bars were refreshing and surprisingly delicious (I guess I wasn't the only one with low expectations!). I found myself craving more salad after it was gone.

I think the fact that my expectations were pretty low before making the recipe actually made me enjoy and appreciate the salad more. This Jell-O salad is a bit unconventional, but I am absolutely planning on making it again. This recipe has been the best surprise in the Baked Explorations cookbook so far.

Recipe: "Strawberry Jell-O Salad" from Baked Explorations: Classic American Desserts Reinvented, by Matt Lewis and Renato Poliafito.  Recipe available here at Baked Sunday Mornings.

Cold and Colder: Chocolate-Peanut Butter Terrine and Salty Caramel Ice Cream

In selecting a dessert to bring to enjoy with our friends Jim and Colleen on a hot day, I decided that a cold dessert was in order. But I wanted to avoid something that would require a lot of freezer space, because I know that freezer space tends to be at a premium at their house (fortunately, Tom and I have two full-sized refrigerators, so we usually have ample room in at least one of the freezers). I was happy to find a recipe that seemed to fit the bill: Chocolate-Peanut Butter Terrine with Sugared Peanuts.

Making the terrine is not difficult. You melt together chocolate, butter, and peanut butter, and fold the mixture into egg yolks that have been whipped with sugar until thickened. Then you fold in whipped cream, spread the mixture in a loaf pan, and refrigerate it until firm. Once the terrine is firm, you unmold it (I lined my pan with parchment paper, so this was easy) and pour on a glaze of made chocolate, butter, and corn syrup. You put the terrine back in the refrigerator to set the glaze, and when you're ready to serve it, all you have to do is cut it into slices. The recipe includes an accompaniment of sugared peanuts that you make by mixing together peanuts with an egg white and sugar, and toasting them in the oven until they are golden and dry.

I also wanted to make ice cream to go along with the terrine; ice cream for four people doesn't require much room in the freezer. Last year I bought a copy of Jeni's Splendid Ice Creams at Home, but I had yet to try any of the recipes. The first time I tried Jeni's Splendid ice cream was during Christmas a couple of years ago, when Tom's sister had purchased ten (yes, ten!) different pints of the stuff to serve for dessert. Everyone sampled a small #60 scoop (about one tablespoon) of all ten delicious flavors. The cookbook has some incredibly unusual and creative recipes.

The last time we saw Colleen, she mentioned how much she liked the salted caramel frozen yogurt at Pinkberry, so I decided to make Jeni's "Salty Caramel Ice Cream." According to the cookbook, it is the most popular flavor in Jeni's stores, accounting for more than 20 percent of sales. The recipe includes caramel (made by dry-burning sugar in a pot on the stove) and vanilla, along with the other ingredients that compose the base of all of Jeni's ice creams: whole milk, cornstarch, cream cheese, salt, heavy cream, corn syrup, and sugar.

The terrine was pretty much what I expected -- essentially a chocolate-peanut butter mousse. That said, it was pretty tasty and had a lovely creamy, light texture. I didn't think the sugared peanuts were all that interesting on their own, but they added a lot to the dessert, which was otherwise lacking any crunchy texture. The salty caramel ice cream was improbably dense and creamy, smooth as silk. It had the best texture of any ice cream I've ever made. The flavor was also delicious, and it happened to complement the terrine quite well. I know that making ice cream to go along with a terrine is gratuitous, but I loved the result!

Recipes:

• "Chocolate-Peanut Butter Terrine with Sugared Peanuts" from Classic Stars Desserts and Four-Star Desserts by Emily Luchetti, recipe available on epicurious.com
• "Salty Caramel Ice Cream" from Jeni's Splendid Ice Creams at Home by Jeni Britton Bauer.