Frozen Dessert

Is there really anything else to say? The keywords are “bourbon,” “caramel,” “pecan”! Oh, and “ice cream sundae”! Done.

This intensely flavored granita is the perfect answer for those who don’t want to choose between a nice macchiato and a sweet finish to the meal. The Grappa Cream adds an elegant, and boozy, touch. Although it has only three ingredients, you need to plan ahead for the granita. It will take about 6 hours to freeze, and you need to fluff it with a fork every hour to ensure the texture is light.

Although I’ve outed myself as someone who often prefers savory to sweet, even after dinner, I’ve found the perfect compromise that is sure to keep everyone happy. This is one of my favorite summer desserts, for those long, hot nights when you crave something lighter as a finish to your meal. This sorbet is just the ticket; make it when the blueberries are fat and sweet and fresh basil is everywhere you look.

Campari and soda is one of my favorite aperitifs. Not only is Campari a brilliant vermilion that looks stunning in the glass, but also the liquor’s bitter edge whets the appetite for the dishes to come. Transformed into a gorgeous, not-too-sweet sorbet, Campari is equally at home finishing a meal. (Although this sorbet would also make a nice refresher between courses if you were feeling fancy.) The addition of sweet, ruby-hued blood orange juice makes this a perfect dessert for midwinter when summer’s fruits are still months away. Before you freeze your sorbet, I recommend you pour a little into a highball glass and add some ice and gin. It makes the wait so much more enjoyable.

The very essence of summer, this recipe features, really, just one ingredient. It takes multiple steps to transform the melon into this dense, creamy sorbet, but don’t be tempted to take shortcuts. Your reward is in the intense flavor and hue of the finished product. This is one case where you must go to the farmers’ market and seek out the gnarled old guy who lovingly raises organic muskmelons—maybe Crenshaws or Hearts of Gold—and picks them only when you can smell their perfume a mile away as they warm in the sun. Go. He’s there, and he’ll make sure you get a good melon.

I can’t decide whether I love the color—a pale celadon—or the exotic flavor of this ice cream more. The pear causes the base to have a thinner consistency than some other ice creams have before freezing, but the final texture is lovely. It’s hard to peg the flavor as star anise in the ice cream, because the spice mellows with the cold and the cream, but it’s addictive. This isn’t a scoop-in-a-cone kind of dessert, but an elegant cookie on the side would be nice.

Rich and earthy, with a haunting flavor that comes from steeping toasted walnuts in cream before making your custard, this makes a very elegant finish to a meal (and it’s good straight from the freezer at midnight, too).

This is not the chocolate ice cream you used to eat as a kid, though no kid would say no to a big, fat dish of it. This has more depth thanks to brown sugar, and the tang of crème fraîche takes the edge off the sweetness. For an elegant richness, use the very best semisweet chocolate you can find. Please, no chocolate chips. Not only would the flavor suffer, but the emulsifiers added to chocolate chips would ruin the texture of the dessert.

Throughout the South, but especially along rural strips of highway, you’ll find a plethora of roadside farm stands advertising their homegrown wares with colorful, hand-painted wooden signs. I love these quirky little catchall stands, where you’re almost as likely to encounter folk art or a mini petting zoo as you are watermelons and eggs. If you’re lucky, you can also find some of the best peach ice cream you’ll ever eat—creamy, cold, and ultrafresh. I like to think my version, which makes the most of sweet, sun-ripened fruit, is just as tasty.

My rule of thumb is “If something tastes good, it will taste even better if you turn it into ice cream.” Hence my passion for coffee ice cream—and this divine take on everyone’s favorite Kentucky Derby Day libation. The better the bourbon, the better the ice cream. We serve this with shortbread, but it’s good with any type of cookies. Shaved or grated bittersweet chocolate would be a delicious addition.

Here’s a clever idea for serving store-bought ice cream. The snowballs are especially fun for children. You will need 1 1/2 cups of topping total. Use toffee chips straight from the bag, or crush up your own favorite candies.

Here’s a foolproof recipe that involves nothing more than assembling a few store-bought ingredients with a five-minute chocolate sauce. Make it once and it’ll soon become a stand-by whenever you want a little something sweet.

Okay, this isn’t really fried (which is a good thing), but the crunchy cinnamon crust with cold, creamy ice cream inside does a good job of imitating fried ice cream. It’s so delicious that everyone will be asking for seconds. Make it to share with friends, and keep it in your freezer in a covered container to eat whenever you get sick of boring, plain old ice cream out of the carton. To make a vegan version, use margarine and nondairy ice cream.

Sweet, loose-skinned, and with few seeds mandarin oranges are more popular in Vietnam than regular oranges. The small fruits are commonly eaten as a peel-and-eat snack, but may they also be juiced and frozen for sorbet. Served alone or with a cookie, the sorbet is an elegant conclusion to a meal. Find the best tangerines, clementines, or satsumas in your area and juice them yourself. Avoid pasteurized juice, which can have an unpleasant cooked flavor.

Made with milk, rather than cream and eggs, this ice cream is thickened with cornstarch, which Vietnamese cooks use to yield a smooth texture. The result is a lighter-than-usual ice cream that allows the lemongrass to shine. When preparing the lemongrass, you need to remove only the dry outer leaves and trim any dry edges at the very top. You can then use as much of the stalk as you like, as it is discarded after the milk is infused. In fact, sometimes when I trim lemongrass for other recipes, I freeze the tough top sections for making this ice cream.

This easy sorbet captures the essence of coconut in frozen form. Vanilla amplifies the alluring fragrance of coconut, while salt underscores the sorbet’s delicate sweetness. High-quality canned coconut milk works fine, but freshly made coconut milk yields the best results, with wonderfully delicate and complex flavors.

Years ago, during my catering days, we served a Tsingtao beer sorbet in hollowed-out lemon halves for a Chinese New Year celebration. I remembered the idea recently as I brainstormed potential desserts for a Tex-Mex dinner. If it’s good with Chinese beer, it ought to be better with a Tex-Mex beer, I reasoned. I grabbed a couple of Coronas and a handful of limes and went to work. Corona Sorbet starred at my next party and it was everything I’d hoped—lively and refreshing, sweet and tangy, just the sort of dessert I crave after a Tex-Mex feast.

I’ve never forgotten the icebox pies I used to eat as a child at Luby’s Cafeteria. Those pies, along with the jewel-colored servings of Jell-O, were too tantalizing to resist. I always selected an icebox pie and a bowl of Jell-O, agonizing over which color to choose. I always finished the pie, but never touched the Jell-O. The Jell-O was for looks, the pie for flavor. My version of icebox pie is a stunning party animal—dramatic and devilishly rich. For parties, I prepare this recipe in stages: the crust one day, the filling the next, and the whipped cream topping the day of my party. A word of warning: These are large and very rich pies. Only under extreme circumstances do I recommend eating a whole one in a single sitting. (For example, you’re starring in a new movie and have been asked by your big-time director to gain fifty pounds pronto.) So you may wish to serve a half or quarter pie per person.

Eating ice cream sandwiches always brings out the kid in me. Why not spread the joy? At a recent party, more than a few giggles erupted when I handed out overstuffed ice cream sandwiches for dessert. I owe my renewed interest in ice cream sandwiches to a herd of Belted Galloway cows that I often spot as I head home on Route 290 just outside of town. Those dark cows with the big white stripe running right around their middles remind me of great big ice cream sandwiches. I found the perfect recipe for the chocolate cookie part in an old favorite of mine, the Deer Valley Ranch Family Cookbook, a spiral-bound treasure trove of recipes from the kitchen of a Colorado dude ranch. The soft, slightly cakey cookies are the perfect foil for a creamy vanilla ice cream center. These cookies are also fabulous alone: sometimes I don’t quite get around to filling them with ice cream and before I know it they are gone.