Strawberry

Mint-steeped simple syrup gives whipped cream surprisingly bright flavor (but no color). Use any leftover syrup to sweeten iced tea or lemonade.

A far cry from anything in a bottle, this intensely flavored syrup tastes great over waffles, pancakes, and even ice cream. You can use one type of berry or a combination of berries.

THERE IS NO BETTER BOUNTY OF NORTHWEST SUMMERS than local berries. Strawberries arrive first, followed in rapid succession by raspberries, blueberries, blackberries, and cherries. (Cherries are technically a stone fruit, but to locals they are the grand marshal in our parade of summer berries.) Try any of these fruits in this easy parfait. Sliced peaches and nectarines are a welcome addition; whatever fruit is at its peak in the market will be your best choice. The addition of simple syrup enhances the natural sweetness of the fruit and adds a beautiful gloss. You can make the syrup ahead and refrigerate it in a sealed container for a week. This is a simple, elegant dessert—perfect for a relaxed summer evening.

THIS IS A FAMILY FAVORITE. We use a scone-like shortbread with a kick of orange zest as the base and Beecher’s Blank Slate cheese, which contrasts nicely with the sweetness of the strawberries and the rich, buttery flavor of the shortcake. Any tart fresh cheese, such as fromage blanc, will work, or leave out the cheese and use 1 1/2 cups heavy cream.

MORE RHUBARB IS GROWN IN THE PACIFIC NORTHWEST than in any other region of the country, meaning you’ll often see rhubarb on dessert menus in local restaurants from April through September. Although rhubarb is technically a vegetable, its tart flavor lends itself to being treated like a fruit. Adding sugar and cooking the thick stalks softens the flavor. Strawberries and rhubarb are a classic combination, and they’re even better accented with a little orange zest. These bars are a perfect portable dessert for lunchboxes and picnic baskets.

This is an utterly simple dessert that is a refreshing finish to any meal. Be sure to use bright red ripe berries.

This is only one example of the many summer fruit compotes that turn combinations of fruit into delectable desserts. All the fruits of summer—plums, peaches, apricots, nectarines, cherries, figs—can be cut up and soaked together in their own juices with a little sugar and lemon juice. Summer fruit compotes are delicious by themselves; on pancakes or waffles; with almond cake or angel food cake or a plate of cookies; or with ice cream, whipped cream, or sherbet.

Ice cream is universally loved—and homemade ice cream right off the dasher is the most desirable ice cream of all. There are basically two versions. The first is simply sweetened and flavored cream, frozen. The second is a frozen custard made with sweetened cream and egg yolks, which produces a richer, smoother ice cream. They both have their charms, although I lean towards the frozen custard kind. Ice cream can be made with all cream or a mixture of cream and half-and-half or milk. Flavors tend to be more pronounced in ice cream when it is lightened with half-and-half or milk. Heat the cream to dissolve the sugar (or honey). At this point the cream can be infused with other flavorings, such as vanilla bean, coffee beans, herbs, or finely chopped toasted nuts. Let the flavorings infuse for about 20 minutes, then strain them out, and chill the liquid. Fruit purées and extracts are added after the mixture has cooled. Such solid flavorings as chopped fruit, nuts, or grated chocolate are best stirred in after the ice cream has been frozen; added earlier, they impede the freezing process. To make a custard-based ice cream, strain the warm cream, mix with egg yolks, and cook until thick. Chill well before freezing. Ice cream can be frozen in a shallow pan or tray but it will have a much smoother texture if frozen in a machine. The constantly moving paddle, or dasher, breaks up the ice crystals and works a small amount of air into the mix as it freezes. There are a variety of ice cream machines on the market. The traditional machines consist of a wooden bucket that holds a metal canister, which can be surrounded by crushed ice and rock salt. The salt lowers the freezing temperature of the ice, making the ice cream freeze more quickly. The canister is fitted with a dasher that is operated by a hand crank or an electric motor. For best results, chill the dasher and canister before adding the ice cream. There are a number of smaller machines that consist of a double-walled canister that is filled with a liquid coolant. The canister is placed in the freezer until the coolant is frozen solid. When ready, it is filled with the mix and fitted with its motor, which turns a scraping arm. The double-insulated canisters are a bit more convenient but take a while to freeze. If you have the space, store the canister in the freezer so it is ready to go whenever you need it. The mix should be very cold before it is added or it may thaw out the canister before the mix has had a chance to freeze. Only fill the canisters about two-thirds full: the mix will expand as it freezes. Ice-cream machines will freeze ice cream in about 30 to 35 minutes. When just frozen, ice cream is still soft enough that you can stir in such solid flavorings as nuts or candied fruit. The small canister machines have a large hole in the lids for just this purpose. Traditional freezers need to be stopped and opened up. Serve the ice cream right away, or chill it for a few hours to harden further. In a traditional machine you can leave the ice cream in its ice-packed canister right in its bucket (add more ice to cover the top), but don’t leave it in the insulated canister-type machine, which won’t be cold enough to harden the ice cream. Instead, transfer the soft ice cream to a chilled container and put it in the freezer. Pack the ice cream tightly to discourage the formation of any ice crystals. Ice cream will maintain its full flavor for up to a week, but it will lose its sublime texture. When it has frozen quite hard, take the ice cream out of the freezer for a few minutes before serving, for easier scooping.

My mom made a variation of this dessert from the time I was a little girl. I’m not exactly sure where she got the recipe, but I know it came from one of my aunts in Guadalajara. You just need to know that my uncle Ernesto would drive from his house in San Diego across the border into Tijuana to go to my mom’s house when she announced she was making strawberry pie. It’s not traditional or very Mexican, especially in its original form. She used to use a store-bought graham-cracker pie crust (which you are free to use), but I have concocted a much tastier crust using the traditional Maria cracker and piloncillo (unrefined solid cane sugar, usually found in the shape of small truncated cones). What I absolutely left alone is the filling—a fluffy, creamy, perfectly sweet filling that I could eat an entire bowl of if given a spoon. The amounts given will also work with a 9-inch round tart pan with removable bottom if you don’t want to make individual tartlets.

A simple, traditional, and super-rich dessert.

Here’s a strawberry dessert that not only is delicious and intriguing but also can compete with plain fruit in lightness. Strawberries are sugared to juice them up a bit, then drizzled with balsamic vinegar and sprinkled with a pinch of black pepper. The result is so elegant that you’ll find it in great restaurants from here to Emilia-Romagna, the home of balsamic vinegar. It’s an ideal dessert after a heavy meal. Serve, if you like, with a few crisp cookies or a slice of pound, sponge, or angel food cake. This will not hold for any length of time; you can sugar the berries an hour or two before you want to serve them, but no longer.

This mixture of sour and whipped cream is akin to crème fraîche, but I find it more delicious. It’s killer on strawberries.

This recipe and the four that follow share one basic requirement: in-season, preferably locally grown strawberries. In the event that you can’t find strawberries that match that description, substitute any other berries—blackberries, blueberries, raspberries—that are at their peak. Look for strawberries that are dark red, inside and out. The sugar will juice up any strawberries and make them sweeter of course, but it cannot work miracles.

Made with soft berries, this is straightforward, easy, and delicious; it also has beautiful color. I like it best with blueberries, because they need no straining. If you use raspberries or other berries with seeds, force the soup through a fine strainer instead of pureeing it in the blender to remove them. This is great not only as a dessert but also for breakfast or as a snack.

Trifles are anything but trifles: they take a good deal of work to put together, they’re about as caloric as desserts get, and, in the right serving vessel—like a large glass dish with tall, straight sides that reveals the tempting layers of cake, cream, fruit—they’re absolute showstoppers. In England, one is often wowed by the guiltless and masterful employment of loads of cream in many desserts. Trifles are a showcase for the British love of cream—in this case both whipped and pastry.