David Lebovitz - Perfect Scoop: Ice Creams, Sorbets, Granitas, and Sweet Accompaniments

Copyright 2007 by David Lebovitz
Photography copyright 2007 by Lara Hata

All rights reserved. Published in the United States by Ten Speed Press, an imprint of the Crown Publishing Group, a division of Random House, Inc., New York.
www.crownpublishing.com
www.tenspeed.com

Ten Speed Press and the Ten Speed Press colophon are registered trademarks of Random House, Inc.
Originally published in hardcover in the United States by Ten Speed Press, Berkeley, CA, in 2007.

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Lebovitz, David.
The perfect scoop : ice creams, sorbets, granitas, and sweet accompaniments / David Lebovitz; photography by Lara Hata.
p. cm.
Includes index.
1. Ice cream, ices, etc. I. Title
TX795.L45 2007
641.862dc22
2006037610

eISBN: 978-1-60774-094-0

Cover design by Nancy Austin
Food and prop styling by George Dolese
Food stylist assistant: Elizabet der Nederlanden
Photography assistant: Ha Huynh

v3.1

Id like to start this book with a nostalgic tale. Its one of those stories that takes place during a happier era, when I was much younger, and my sister and I spent our summer afternoons hand cranking ice cream on my grandfathers porch in the warm glow of July. Day after lazy day, wed churn out batches of ice cream, spoons poised, barely waiting for the lid to come off the machine, before we leapt forward in a fit of happy giggles, lapping up the luscious ice cream as fast as we could.

Sometimes wed make the most delectably creamy vanilla ice cream, using fragrant vanilla beans and churning out rich, frozen custard sweet with the taste of the farmhouse cream wed picked up earlier that day from the neighbors dairy farm. In late summer, wed harvest sun-warmed peaches from the gloriously overloaded trees. Back in the kitchen wed make a jolly mess, peeling and tossing the vibrant yellow peach slices in sugar before folding them into our ice cream.

Sometimes my grandmother would bake buttery, nut- and chocolate-loaded cookies so we could make ice cream sandwiches. Then wed savor our homespun treats, watching the glowing sun make its early evening retreat.

That would indeed make a lovely story.

If any of it were true.

Instead, my most vivid ice cream memories are from my first and craziest, most insane summer job: scooping ice cream in a soda fountain. That ice cream shop was the most popular spot in town during the summer, and the whole town, en masse, made a beeline for us when the temperature soared. We were wildly busy from the moment the first customers practically burst through the door to closing time, when wed have to shoo away those who invariably arrived just minutes too late.

Once we swung open that door, customers would begin swarming in, and very soon a long line would snake outside. Those of us behind the counter would spend the next few hours scooping mounds of various ice creams and piling them into crispy cones as fast as we could. Wed barely hand off one cone before the next customer would step impatiently to the counter. Luckily, we were energetic teenagers, since any normal person would have collapsed from sheer exhaustion after about five minutes of this. But we were young, and we were having the time of our lives.

I still remember the enthusiasm of each and every person who waited in line. Theyd stand there forever, trying to decide which flavor to order. (Polly Anns in San Francisco installed a wheel of flavors to aid the undecided.) Part of our allure was the quality of the ice cream we served. It was fresh and locally made, truly delicious. But another and perhaps equally important draw was that we gave unreasonably huge scoops. Absolutely enormous. Completely out of proportion to the fragile sugar cones we were constantly breaking as we tried to pack as much ice cream on as possible. Looking back, I dont know how anyone managed to eat one of those gigantic scoops, let alone two or three of them. But they did. Then theyd come back for more the next day. And the next. Come to think of it, I believe we ate almost as much of the ice cream as our customers did!

My favorite moment, though, was when Id run out of a flavor (which was invariably mocha chip, our most popular) and have to sprint to the giant walk-in freezer out back to replace the scraped-clean bucket of ice cream. The instant I stepped into the dark, frigid chamber and closed the thick metal door, the world went away and a blissful moment would pass over me as the icy-cold blast of air hit my face. Id stand still for a moment, inhaling the frosty vapors in the dark, gray chamber, just me and the huge cardboard canisters of ice cream packed inside, from floor to ceiling. Id savor those few seconds of cool solitude and crisp air before heading back out to dive into the frenzy again.

Americans arent the only ones who love ice cream. Italians line up for scoops of dense gelato at gelaterias like Carab in Florence, no matter what time of the year it is. And what Parisian doesnt enjoy un petitgoter on the le St. Louis? On this tiny island in the center of town, locals and tourists line up for cones of glace Berthillon, dainty little boules of ice cream with incredibly intense flavors.

In Mexico, youll find ice creams made of everything from guanbana (soursop) to aguacate (avocado), and in most cities and villages locals gather nightly in the zcalo, the center square, to idle away the warm evening while chatting with friends between licks of helado. Across the Atlantic, audacious avant-garde Spanish chefs have obliterated the line between savory and sweet, and Ive sampled ice cream combinations so curious, made with herbs, vegetablesheck, even baconthat I wasnt sure if I was still working on dinner or had moved on to dessert.

In India, milk is concentrated and made into dense, chewy kulfi, often perfumed with rosewater or saffron, and while traveling through Japan Ive marveled at the chewy pockets of pounded rice, called mochi, with a slender disk of ice cream discreetly tucked inside. These presentations are so startlingly beautiful that it seems a shame to break them open. But I do. And if youve ever visited Hawaii, you know that the islands are dotted with tiny roadside stands advertising shave ice on handwritten signs. I love digging into my own plastic cone heaped with sweet candied red beans or lotus seeds and a mound of crushed ice, finished with a few squirts of tropical fruit syrup and a swirl of sweetened condensed milk.

The Perfect Scoop is your guidebook to the fabulous world of ice creams, sorbets, sherbets, granitas, frozen yogurts, and gelatos. Ive spent the past twenty-five years churning out all sorts of frozen desserts, at home and in restaurants, and these recipes are the result. Of course, youll find chocolate, vanilla, and strawberry ice cream in here, but thats only the beginning. Many of the recipes are based on a cooked custard, which involves a bit of extra effort but produces ice cream of unparalleled smoothness. But there are plenty of recipes that involve no cooking at all. Youll find recipes for ice creams, frozen yogurts, and sherbets that require nothing more complicated than pressing the button on your blender.