Vegetarian

I was going to call these “Walnuts Gone Wild” but took a less seamy route and decided on simply Wet Walnuts. You can draw your own conclusions. But there’s nothing indecent about these maple-glazed walnuts, except how good they taste.

These easy-to-make peanuts will make you feel like a chocolatier assembling a world-class candy bar. If you’re anything like me, you can’t keep chocolate bars around the house without breaking off a hunk every time you pass by, so by all means double the recipe if you want, just to make sure there’s enough for folding into the ice cream later on.

This is one of my all-time favorite and most requested recipes. These nuts are lots of fun to make, and you’ll feel like a real candy maker as you triumphantly tilt your first batch out of the pan. Whole almonds get cooked in a syrup, simmering until the sugar crystallizes and clings to them, creating a crackly caramelized coating. This recipe can easily be doubled.

I can’t say I make it a habit of, or admit to, meeting women online. But luckily for me, my first time was the charm. I fell for Heidi Swanson, who entices men (and women) with her gorgeous web site, www.101cookbooks.com. An accomplished photographer and cookbook author, her recipes are tried-and-true and are always accompanied by stunning photos and clever commentary. When we actually met, she was just as charming in person as online—which I hear makes me luckier than most of the other fellows out there. Here’s a recipe I’ve adapted from her site. It makes a healthy, delightfully crunchy topping for ice cream or frozen yogurt for dessert, and since the recipe makes a bit more than you might need, you can keep some on hand for a great breakfast treat as well.

These cashews are simple to make and can be sprinkled over ice cream sundaes. Be sure to keep them in an airtight container at room temperature to keep them as crisp as possible.

I used to cringe every time someone would start a sentence with, “When I was your age…,” knowing that I was in for a lecture, heavy with nostalgia for days gone by. Nowadays, though, I find I’m doing the same a little too often for comfort. But it’s true, when I was younger (perhaps your age), my local ice cream parlor would serve, alongside their gloriously overloaded ice cream sundaes, little paper cups filled way up to the brim with buttered pecans roasted in real, honest-to-goodness butter, for just five cents. Five cents! Yikes! I think I’m becoming my parents.

There are really simple to make and will make you feel like an accomplished candy maker with minimal effort, and they’re very good too. I like these crunchy, salty peanuts liberally scattered all over the top of a towering hot fudge sundae. You’ll notice that I use raw peanuts, not ones that have been previously salted and roasted. If you wish, you can use unsalted preroasted peanuts (which, amusingly, are often called cocktail peanuts) and reduce the baking time to 15 minutes.

After dinner at the marvelous L’Os à Moelle in Paris, I finished up with a dessert of housemade ice cream topped with the most perfect, crispy caramelized almonds I’d ever imagined. After leaving, I passed the kitchen window, where chef Thierry Faucher was leaning outside taking a break. I waved, and he waved back. So I got up the nerve to ask him how he made those fabulous almonds. He hefted a pitcher of liquid, and told me they were simply coated with equal parts water and sugar. The next morning, I immediately started tinkering around and came up with just the right proportions for making these incredibly addictive crispy flakes of almonds.

If you’re as wild about sour cherries as I am, you’ll be as happy as I was to discover that big jars of them are available in Eastern European markets and specialty grocers (see Resources, page 237). They come packed in light syrup and are a fraction of the cost of their pricey Italian counterparts, and they’re simple to candy yourself. Once cooked and cooled, if you wish to mix the cherries into ice cream, drain them of their syrup completely (until they feel dry and sticky), and then fold them into your favorite flavor. I recommend White Chocolate Ice Cream (page 33), or try the Toasted Almond and Candied Cherry Ice Cream (page 60). Or simply use one, or more, to top off an ice cream sundae. (Save any leftover syrup to mix with sparkling water to make homemade sour cherry soda.) This recipe calls for 3 cups of cherries, which includes their syrup.

One of my great pleasures in life is stopping at one of the “shave ice” stands (as the locals call them, inexplicably dropping the “d”) in Hawaii. I watch as they tuck sweet red beans in the bottom of a paper cone and then pile on the shaved ice. I always choose lilikoi, or passion fruit syrup, to be drizzled over the ice. It has remarkable complexity and tastes as if every possible tropical flavor has been packed together into one intensely flavored fruit. Then a shot of sweet milk is poured over it all. I slurp the whole thing down, then I’m ready to tackle the surf again. Or, more likely, just take a snooze under the shade of a palm tree. The inspiration likely came from Japan, where red beans are spooned over ice cream or puréed for beautifully intricate pastries called wagashi. You can easily make them at home from adzuki beans, available in well-stocked supermarkets and natural food stores. Their sweet-starchy flavor is justifiably popular and is especially good paired with Asian-inspired ice creams, like Green Tea Ice Cream (page 40) and Toasted Coconut Ice Cream (page 96). I find chewing on these sticky little beans positively addictive.

All raspberry sauces need not be created equal. Unlike the previous sauce, this one is loaded with big, chunky raspberries. It was inspired by a sauce that baking guru Nick Malgieri whizzed up during a cooking demonstration, and I’ve been making it ever since.

I’m a big fan of the all-American blueberry, and why not? They’re so easy to transform into a versatile sauce that’s equally at ease atop Philly-friendly Cheesecake Ice Cream (page 62) or alongside Hollywood–healthy Vanilla Frozen Yogurt (page 49). Or forge a Franco-American alliance by adding crème de cassis, the deep, dark black currant liqueur from Dijon (see the Variation at the end of the recipe).

This sauce is so intensely flavored that just a minimum amount is needed for maximum impact. It goes particularly well over anything sharp and lemony, such as Super Lemon Ice Cream (page 85) or Lemon Sherbet (page 116).

Coulis is a fancy word that simply means a sauce made with fresh, uncooked ingredients. Feel free to change the mix of berries as you wish, depending on what’s available. If you find fresh red currants at your market, the tangy little berries are a wonderful addition.

The sweet-tart taste of candied pineapple spiked with real vanilla makes a lovely accompaniment paired with any tropical fruit–flavored ice cream or sorbet. Be sure to cook the pineapple long enough so the juices and sugar mingle together and caramelize to a dark amber color for maximum flavor.

We all need heroes in life. Someone to look up to, whom you idolize, and who does something that radically alters your life forever. For me, that person is Henri Le Roux, who makes caramel-butter-salt caramels (nicknamed CBS) in the seaside town of Quiberon, on the Atlantic coast of France. The residents of Brittany are famous for consuming shocking amounts of butter, most of it heavily flecked with coarse sea salt to preserve and complement its buttery goodness. When Monsieur Le Roux unwrapped one of his buttery, meltingly tender salted caramels and popped it in my mouth, I knew I’d found my hero. To get the same flavor, be sure to use a good-quality kosher or coarse sea salt, such as fleur de sel (see Resources, page 237), recognizable by its delicate, shimmering crystals. It makes quite a difference.

Although I like to make this chunky sauce all year long and I use it to top everything from Super Lemon Ice Cream (page 85) in the winter to Fresh Apricot Ice Cream (page 76) in the summer, you can make it more winter-holiday-friendly by adding a handful of dried cranberries in place of some of the pecans, using the variation at the end of the recipe. Then try it ladled over Cinnamon Ice Cream (page 38) for a real treat. If possible, make this sauce in advance and let it sit for a few hours, so all the ingredients have a chance to mingle and meld together deliciously.

Do you have OSD? When you see something in a saucepan, do you find that you can’t stop yourself from giving it a stir? If so, you’ve probably got obsessive stirring disorder, and you need to curb that kind of behavior to caramelize sugar properly. Mix the sugar as little as possible, just enough to keep it from burning. Stirring encourages the jagged little crystals to join together and crystallize, which you want to avoid. If crystallization does start to happen, remove the pan from the heat and tenderly stir it to dissolve the crystals before adding the water and lemon juice. This lemony sauce is superb when drizzled over any lemon-flavored ice cream served in Profiteroles (page 232), or along with ice cream–filled Crêpes (page 233).

Not only does this chewy candied peel make a tasty tangle atop a scoop of citrus-flavored sorbet or ice cream, but it’s also terrific drained, finely chopped, and folded into just-churned Super Lemon Ice Cream (page 85), Fresh Ginger Ice Cream (page 43), or Cheesecake Ice Cream (page 62). If you don’t have a candy thermometer, simply cook the peel until most of the liquid has boiled away and the fine threads of peel are shiny and translucent.

I think of cajeta as the risotto of dessert sauces, since it’s made on the stovetop and requires vigilant attention while it simmers and transforms itself from ordinary ingredients (milk and sugar) into a deeply browned, sticky-sweet paste. The first cajeta I tasted was made in Mexico from goat’s milk, and it was absolutely the best thing I’d ever tasted. Since you might not be able to find goat’s milk, or it may not be to your taste, cow’s milk makes yummy cajeta as well. Begin your cajeta in a very large pot, with a capacity of at least 8 quarts (8 liters), since the mixture can bubble up unexpectedly. It should be a heavy-duty pot with a thick bottom. Be sure to pay attention while you’re cooking it, especially during the last 20 minutes, when it’s vital to keep watch. If you don’t stir it constantly during that final stage of cooking, it’s likely to scorch on the bottom. If it does, simply strain it to remove any browned bits.