Frozen Dessert

This recipe is part of the Epicurious Online Cooking School, in partnership with the Culinary Institute of America. To watch it being made, and to learn how to make other dessert classics, check out the videos.

This recipe is part of the Epicurious Online Cooking School, in partnership with the Culinary Institute of America. To watch it being made, and to learn how to make other dessert classics, check out the videos.

Strawberries are full of vitamin C, which does double duty: It helps you burn more fat during exercise and helps build skin-firming collagen, resulting in a slimmer, prettier you!

"It's not meant to be super sweet," Reusing says of this delicious, silken ice cream. "It's a fun way to taste corn." And using coconut milk in the base means there's no need to make a custard.

When it comes to ice cream cakes, there are no hard-and-fast rules as to what form they can take. Some consist solely of ice cream molded and then decorated to resemble a cake, while others intersperse layers of ice cream with thin layers of cake, crisp meringue, or even crumbled cookies. Our red, white, and blue July 4th extravaganza is a gorgeous amalgam of ice cream, cake, and blueberries and raspberries cooked separately into their own jammy fillings. Frosted simply in sweetened whipped cream and topped with more berries, this cake sparkles as much as the fireworks in the sky! Editor's Note: This recipe is part of Gourmet's Modern Menu for A Fourth of July Cookout. Menu also includes Grilled Corn with Honey-Ginger Barbecue Sauce and Grilled Shrimp with Honey-Ginger Barbecue Sauce.

When frozen, bananas become so creamy they can almost pass for sorbet or even ice cream. Coat them with chocolate and sprinkle them with homemade peanut brittle—there will be plenty left over for snacking—and you've got a refreshingly cold treat that feels almost as virtuous as a serving of fruit. Editor's Note: This recipe is part of Gourmet's Modern Menu for Summer Fair Favorites. Menu also includes Fried Onion Dippers with Balsamic Ketchup and Turkey Meatball Garlic Bread Heroes.

Chocolate has the incredible ability to stand alone quite nicely while playing along with loads of other prominent ingredients—without being a bully. And that is why a brownie sundae can be so frustrating: How can you settle on one ice cream flavor or a single sauce?
We figured Father's Day is the right time to have a brownie sundae your way. Dads have soft spots for cuteness, so serving up a brownie raft supporting mini-scoops of three different ice creams adrift in three different sauces will tickle him to no end. Feel free to use whatever ice cream flavors are the family favorites. Editor's Note: This recipe is part of Gourmet's Modern Menu for A Father's Day Feast. Menu also includes Pretzel Bites with Quick Cheddar Dip and Grilled Rib Pork Chops with Sweet and Tangy Peach Relish.

Michael Laiskonis uses a little sugar and the gentle heat of a double boiler to draw out the berries' juices without cooking them, yielding a vibrant sweet soup.

Thai-flavored rice pudding is frozen into creamy ice pops. Dried apricots add subtle color and a satisfyingly chewy texture.

Want the fluffiest ice? Scrape the frozen mixture with a fork every 30 minutes to create smaller crystals.

The keys to a light, airy semifreddo that melts in your mouth? Just enough sugar to sweeten it and keep it soft in the freezer. Also, "gently folding and not overmixing," says Laiskonis. Go over the top by serving it with cinnamon whipped cream and chile-chocolate sauce (or use store- bought chocolate sauce).

Chilling Time: 2 hours or overnight
Shelf Life: 1 week This recipe was inspired by the malted ice cream at Herrell's in Massachusetts. They were doing smush-ins long before anyone else, and it was there that Anne first tried malted vanilla ice cream with Heath bar pieces mixed in. It was love at first bite!

Chilling Time: 2 hours or overnight
Shelf Life: 1 week Kris loves to tinker with ice cream. Every time she tries a new flavor that she loves, she goes home and re-creates it with her own spin, like with this recipe. The original was good in theory, but it was overloaded with candied ginger and gingerbread and simply had too much going on. Kris thought, "If it just focused on a few ingredients, it would be so much better." The result is proof that the simple combination of brown sugar, ginger, and caramel is all you need for an amazing explosion of flavor. This started out as a Christmas flavor because it pairs so nicely with spiced things like gingerbread. After the holidays were over and we stopped making it, people demanded that we bring it back, so now it's always in the case and our guests enjoy it all year long.

The only trick to this fruit-flecked pie created by Sweet Rose Creamery in Santa Monica, CA, is making sure it gets 6 hours in the freezer to firm up.

Molly Moon's in Seattle pairs apricot compote with vanilla ice cream, but you can experiment with other combos. We love chocolate ice cream with tart dried cherries.

"It's actually really good!" This phrase is heard over and over again in the shop. In fact, we've overheard it so much through the years, we've even caught ourselves saying it unwillingly. We kinda hate it, because it goes with the presumption that you've already discussed that "it"—whether it's an ice cream flavor or party or whatever—is not going to be good. The flavor that sparks the most customers to utter "It's actually really good!" is Candy Cap, a flavor made with…delicious little mushrooms. First some background: Porcini mushroom ice cream is one of the only flavor failures Jake will readily admit. It tasted OK, but it was just too earthy, and sadly, there was not a market for dirt ice cream. At least not yet. But right when we were ready to write off mushroom ice cream, we stumbled upon a wonderful species called candy cap mushrooms. A local mushroom vendor, Far West Fungi, approached us about doing a mushroom flavor. At first we were pretty skeptical, and at second, we were still skeptical. But when they finally coaxed us to visit their shop at the Ferry Building, they opened a jar of dried candy caps. They smelled like the best maple syrup ever. We were sold. We soon learned that nothing else on earth tastes like candy cap mushrooms. They carry the earthy taste associated with mushrooms, but unlike in the failed porcini experiment, candy caps deliver their own dimension of sweetness to the ice cream. Guests have said it tastes like waffles, pancakes, cinnamon buns, celery root, etc. Way more than just a novelty flavor, it's become one of our most popular flavors—it even got us on the television screen once or twice.

この味は驚くばかりである! We make White Miso ice cream in the summer with peaches, in the fall with apples, and in the winter with pears. Alice Waters would be so proud of us . . . you know, if she knew who we were. Doing a flavor with miso was a natural and logical extension of our love for savory elements in our ice creams. Miso is a thick traditional Japanese soy paste that's often used as a condiment or a flavor ingredient in cooking, and it's been growing in popularity as an ingredient in desserts. Since miso is so salty, this is one of the few recipes in the book that doesn't call for added salt or vinegar. In his search to get the flavors right, Jake went to a Japanese supermarket and bought pretty much every kind of miso in the joint: red miso, mixed miso, rice miso, purple miso, soy-only miso, miso-horny, and so on. He eventually settled on a white style. White miso is much more delicate than its counterparts. It's mellow. He still doesn't know what the label says, but boy, it sure gets the job done. White Miso is another "Wow" flavor, with distinct umami undertones that pair well with the seasonal tree fruits. It also goes secretly well with a scoop of Guinness Gingerbread, or simply a little splash of olive oil on top. Inspiration: Jake used to serve miso apple butter with crepes and olive oil ice cream.

At Humphry Slocombe, we serve hordes of loyal, beloved regulars each day. Some are more promiscuous than others, and try all our flavors, mixing it up each visit. Others are monogamous followers of specific flavors, like the one guy who comes in every day for a gallon of vanilla ice cream (for serious), or the devout woman who calls like clockwork to see if we have Rosemary's Baby. One particular young lady was a big fan of Salted Licorice, and arrived promptly every time we had it in stock. After several visits, she came in one day bearing a gift: a bag of black, salty licorice that she brought back from Sweden. When Sean didn't register who or what she was, she became very insulted, threw the candy at him, and stormed off. As soon as she left, Sean remembered her and felt terrible. Angry Licorice Girl, please come back. Sean is very sorry. Nearly everyone has a childhood reference to licorice. Salted Licorice reminds some guests of their travels to Eastern Europe and Scandinavia, where black licorice is ubiquitous. For other guests, Salted Licorice conjures up memories of chewy Red Vines in movie theaters. And it should, because we actually use Red Vines—the black ones, that is. Every once in a while, Sean stretches the truth by saying we use real licorice root. Technically, that's not incorrect…we just use real licorice root after it's been made into Red Vines. We're not afraid to be a little trashy. But not as trashy as Twizzlers. Those are gross.

Pastry chef Jennifer Jones of Topolobampo in Chicago shared this recipe as part of a Cinco de Mayo feature on Mexican desserts. Jones encourages you to use different fruits in this refreshing dessert, but recommends sticking to ones that are sweet but have acidity. Raspberries are a perfect example.