Although the calendar says it’s only May, it feels more like July this week. My kids are begging to go to the pool every day and I’m craving ice cream. Strawberry ice cream to be specific. Strawberries are in full season in all their sweet glory and what better way to stave off the heat than to indulge in icy cream and fresh berries.

I have often made strawberry ice cream using heavy cream, berries, sugar and not much else. Although these desserts have been creamy and sweet, they were a bit lacking. Without eggs, ice cream just doesn’t have the full body and character I’m looking for in my dessert. I have hunted for years for the perfect strawberry ice cream recipe, but most use between 6 and 9 egg yolks. Now I love egg custards (and ice cream made with eggs is essentially just frozen custard), but the more eggs included in a custard, the richer the flavor. Although this can often be a very good thing — such as with vanilla, pecan or chocolate ice creams — the richness of too many eggs in custard can detract from the natural sweetness of any fruit you add to it, flattening the flavors. Plus eggs are high in cholesterol and fat, so if I can, I try to avoid them in abundance. What I wanted was a lighter strawberry ice cream with the depth of flavor eggs provide, without overshadowing the strawberries and casting them out of the limelight (or raising my LDL levels).

I recently read a NY Times article that used a pudding recipe for ice cream. The problem is that it uses 8 egg yolks (yes, 8!). I remembered that my pudding recipe is thick and creamy and only uses a couple of eggs, which seemed much more reasonable. I decided to tweak it a little, however, using strawberries instead of chocolate. I also added one extra egg yolk to help bind the ice cream as I was worried the strawberries — which naturally have a lot of water in them — would make the custard runny. Heavy cream also seemed a better choice than the whole milk I use in my pudding as this is ice cream we’re making, not ice milk. My final alteration was to include some lemon juice and zest to help brighten the strawberry flavors. Finally I plopped everything into the beautiful ice cream maker my husband’s aunt bought us a few years ago (thank you Aunt Susie!) with excellent results. The final product had a deep strawberry taste, a rich and creamy texture, and a more complex flavor than the plain cream strawberry ice cream I’ve made for years. It also allowed the strawberries to star, unlike some custard ice creams I’ve tried. And best of all, it helped cool us off during this heat wave.

Fresh Strawberry Ice Cream

Makes 4 - 8 servings

Ingredients
3 cups of fresh strawberries (cleaned, hulled and chopped)
½ cup plus 3 Tbsp sugar
1 Tbsp fresh lemon juice
Zest from one medium lemon
3 large egg yolks
3 Tbsp corn starch
Dash of salt
2 cups heavy cream
1 tsp vanilla extract

Preparation
1. Puree 2 cups of the strawberries with 3 Tbsp sugar and the lemon juice. Cut up the third cup of berries, mix them with the 4th tablespoon of sugar, and set aside.

2. Heat the heavy cream on medium-low until it starts to steam with small bubbles around the edge. Turn off the heat.
3. Whisk egg yolks with ½ cup sugar in a bowl until the mixture is a light yellow color.
4. Add the lemon zest, corn starch, and salt to the egg mixture and whisk thoroughly, making sure there are no lumps.
5. Add about a half cup of the warmed cream to the egg mixture, whisking vigorously to temper the eggs.
6. Add the egg mixture to the cream and incorporate thoroughly.
7. Cook on medium-low just until the mixture starts to bubble. Be sure to frequently stir or the mixture will start to burn at the bottom. I used a whisk, but a spatula would also work.
8. When the mixture becomes thick enough to coat the back of a spoon, turn off the heat and add the strawberry puree.
9. Stir in the vanilla.
10. Chill in an ice bath.
11. Cover with plastic wrap, being sure to let it sit directly on top of the pudding to avoid a skin forming.
12. Refrigerate until fully cooled.
13. Place mixture in your ice cream maker, along with the last cup of berries you set aside in Step 1, and then let it do its thing for about twenty minutes.
14. Place in a container and place in the freezer. Stir every hour or so until firm so it evenly freezes.
15. Serve.

Tips:
1. If you do not have an ice cream maker, you can still make homemade ice cream. David Lebovitz shows you how to make ice cream without a machine.

2. This recipe would also be great using peaches, nectarines, plums, or any other type of berry.

What is the most decadent dessert you can think of? For me, and my childhood memories of trips to Wolfie’s in Miami Beach, Florida, it’s a tall ice cream sundae or a giant banana split, with no less than 2 scoops of ice cream, rivers of hot fudge, and a mountain of whipped cream (hold the formaldehyde-soaked cherry please!).

Recently, using my birthday as the perfect excuse, I decided that I deserved something a bit over-the-top (and perhaps I was paying homage to that big-eyed childhood excitement of ordering the most decadent thing on the menu). Luckily for me, I’ve managed to position my home within walking distance of the Bi-Rite Creamery in San Francisco. What I consider, hands-down, to the be the best ice creamery in the Bay Area, and located on, in my humble opinion, the most amazing culinary street in the Bay Area (home to Delfina, Delfina Pizzeria, Tartine, and the Bi-Rite Store).

Before I get into the ooey gooey goodness of my birthday treat, let me describe the Bi-Rite Creamery for those of you who haven’t had the pleasure of sampling this year-old ice cream shop’s creamy delights. On any warm day, and especially on a rare warm night, you can be sure the creamery will be packed, a long giggling line snaking down the block, chock full of families and young hipsters, folks from the neighborhood and those who’ve traveled across the city. All there just to get a taste of the artisanal, seasonal flavors that go into Bi-Rite’s ever-changing ice cream menu.

Salted caramel.
Honey lavender.
Creme fraiche.
Chai spiced milk chocolate.
Double ginger.
Balsamic strawberry.
Roasted banana.
Luscious lemon. (ok I added the luscious)

Maybe some of the flavors sound out there. But they also have The Best-Ever Yummiest Vanilla Ice Cream. (no really, I swear, that’s the title). And Super-Extra Bittersweet Rich Dark Chocolate. And on a recent trip, one of my all-time faves, Rocky Road. Granted it was made with homemade marshmallows and marcona almonds, but it was the best damn Rocky Road that I’ve ever put in my mouth.

Anyway, I had determined, at least for me, that the banana split was their most decadent item. Don’t get me wrong, there’s plenty of decadence at Bi-Rite Creamery. They have an entire sundae menu. Hell, they have a s’more pie! But their incredible version of this old-school treat had me wide-eyed and feeling naughty.

They start with two giant scoops (or was that four scoops?) of ice cream, your choice. I chose creamy dreamy vanilla and salted caramel. (Ok, before you say “ick” for those of you who haven’t tried it, salted caramel is by far my favorite flavor, with it’s intense flavor and almost fluffy melty texture. It’s not for the timid–it is sophisticated, rich, intense, and yes, decadent.)

The ice cream is drizzled with bittersweet warm chocolate, and then the blow torch comes out. Seriously.

They split the banana, sprinkle it with brown sugar, and fire it up until it’s crisp and caramelized. Nestled on top of the ice cream, my perfect banana split is then topped with freshly whipped cream and a handful of caramelized toasted walnuts (I opted out of this last embellishment as I’m allergic to walnuts).

Mmmmmmm. Heaven. I have to admit though, I did have to split my split. But it was all I could do not to lick the bowl when we were finished. I can’t wait until my birthday next year. I think I might make this a tradition.

Bi-Rite Creamery
3692 18th Street (between Dolores and Guerrero)
San Francisco, CA 94110
415.626.5600

One of my favorite things to do is go to Ghirardelli Square for ice cream.

I’m sure most of the locals just blanched at that sentence. The food snobs are horrified that I’d be common enough to let such “plebeian” ice cream pass my lips, and the regular snobs can’t see hobnobbing with the tourists.

Before I moved down the street, I would have agreed with you. Smelly sea lions, tee shirt shops, and overstuffed tourists whose matching fleeces advertise their ignorance of San Francisco weather? Blech. I’ve never had much heart for the Wharf, and though I’m a chocoholic, Ghirardelli’s middle-of-the-road milk chocolates don’t do it for me.

But then we found an apartment that’s so close to the Square that the smell of freshly made ice cream cones practically wakes me up in the morning. Add to that my boyfriend’s obsession with ice cream, and we were bound to become regulars.

Instead of being dragged kicking and screaming, though, I’ve found that I adore having an ice cream at Ghirardelli Square. Nevermind that it’s Dreyer’s (the truck pulls up every morning, regular as rain). Everyone is happy on vacation, and so the place is just brimming with smiles and laughter and good vibrations. People are thrilled to death at the thought of stuffing a gigondo ice cream sundae in their bellies, and no one minds the wait.

As it happens, they also serve some of the best chocolate chip ice cream around. The secret is the size of the chip; if it’s too big, the chip stays cold and it’s difficult to taste the chocolate. But these chips are teeny-tiny flecks that melt in your mouth, imbuing the ice cream around it (mint, vanilla, or espresso) with chocolatey goodness.

If you live in the city, you owe it to yourself to head to the Square one evening soon. It’ll put a smile on your face, guaranteed. Who says Fisherman’s Wharf is just for tourists?

Far from the golden hills of California, with endless lush stretches of forest and field, the Green Mountain State lives up to its name. My road trip continues, and this week I find myself heading toward the Northeast Kingdom. Along the way, near the shores of Lake Champlain, I’ve been enjoying two local treats.

Faced with the uncertain future of sugar maples, eating maple creemees whenever possible is an imperative. Sugar shacks dot the countryside, and if a sign and an arrow point the way to a creemee, I am there. Soft vanilla ice cream swirled with this year’s maple syrup — what better way to celebrate summer in Vermont?

If you’re picky about such things as real ingredients (and you must be if you’re reading this blog) then be sure to ask at the creemee stands if they use real maple syrup. If not, well…there’s always another sugar shack further down the road.

In the village of Barre, pronounced “barry” as I was gently reminded by a local, an especially memorable variation appears in the guise of a maple sundae. At the window of Caesar’s Fare, where a red siren light promises rescue from snack attacks, you can order two scoops of maple-walnut ice cream topped with maple syrup (Grade B = “Better & Bolder”) and more walnuts. The bitterness of the nuts balances perfectly the sweetness of the syrup. Whipped cream and maraschino cherries complete the experience.

Another local flavor comes from a metal tin. At the other end of the sensuality spectrum, dry and crisp Common Crackers have sustained generations of Vermonters. Round, puffy and neatly halved like a French macaron, they’re the New England embodiment of pragmatism. Originally purchased annually by the barrel, these crackers served as breakfast when soaked in milk, lunch when nibbled with cheddar cheese, afternoon tea when spread with jam, or dinner when served with chowder.

Common crackers are descendants of the long-lived, well-traveled hardtack much-maligned by sailors and soldiers, and their close cousins include pilot crackers, water crackers, and sea biscuits. Recently revived by the Orton family, owners of the Vermont Country Store, the crackers are still available 180 years after they were first cut and baked in Montpelier.

I’ve been enjoying my mini-barrel of common crackers with shards of Grafton Village’s six-year cheddar cheese in between my maple creemees. Who cares about crumbs in the car or lactose intolerance with the open road ahead?

Stay tuned for an update next week from Maine. If all goes well, I’ll be posting photos of freshly dug steamers and buttery lobsters.

In the meantime, please feel free to share coordinates for your favorite lobster shack along the Down East Coast!