We’ve enjoyed these caramelized pears piping hot over Sunday morning pancakes and on fall nights drizzled, warm, over vanilla ice cream. With just a few ingredients, this comes together in 10-15 minutes. Because you’re cooking them, your pears don’t have to be perfectly ripe, so you can indulge in fall goodness without the wait.

Ingredients:

3 Tbs Butter
¼ Cup Honey
2 Pears
A sprig of thyme

Slice or chop your pears and set them aside. Melt the butter over low heat in a large skillet, then drizzle the honey to cover the pan. Turn the heat to medium and cook the butter and honey, stirring occasionally, until it caramelizes. It will darken in color and smell like heaven. Add the pears and thyme and stir to coat the pears, then cook until the pears are as soft as you like them (usually 3-5 minutes depending on how ripe they were).

Notes:

• The ingredient amounts are approximate. Use enough butter and honey to coat the pan evenly, using a little more or less depending on the number of pears and how “saucey” you want them.
• If you don’t have fresh thyme, used a little dried thyme, or try substituting rosemary.
• You can easily double this recipe--using about a half a pear per serving.

A rustic applesauce sweetened only with maple and apple flavors. No white sugar necessary.

I miss New England the most in the fall. While I love San Francisco's year-round fall weather, there's nothing like the transition from summer to fall, breaking out your cords, starting to smell woodsmoke as you walk around the neighborhood, and apple-picking.

California apples just don't compare to New England's. I'd love to be proven wrong on this point, but I have yet to have a deliciously crisp and juicy California apple. Still, when they're simmered for hours with spices, I almost can't tell the difference. (And I can nearly overlook my brother telling me about his day off apple-picking with the family on a perfectly clear, crisp day.)

This recipe gets its sweetness from the apples themselves (and their juice or cider) and maple syrup for an extra dose of New England autumn goodness.

Active time: 20 minutes
Cooking time: About 2 hours
Yield: 4-5 full cups
Summary: Add all ingredients to a pot, cook briefly over medium-high heat, then simmer for 2 hours.

Ingredients:

6 large apples
1 cup (8 oz.) apple juice or cider
½ cup (4 oz.) pure maple syrup
1 tsp. ground ginger
2 tsp. cinnamon

Core the apples and chop them roughly (about 1-inch pieces). Add the apples and all of the remaining ingredients to a large dutch oven or other pot. Cook over medium-high heat for about 10 minutes, stirring frequently. Then reduce the heat to low and simmer, covered, for about 2 hours, stirring occasionally (about every half hour). Blend the apples to your desired consistency and enjoy.

Recipe notes:

• I like to leave the skin on for a heartier texture (and, maybe, because peeling apples is not that fun). 
• You can use any apples you have available. A mix of sweet and tart is nice, so throw in a Granny Smith or two if you have them on hand.
• After an hour of simmering, this is basically done, but the extra hour will make a richer tasting sauce.
• An immersion blender is ideal to blend right in the pot, but a standard blender or food processor will also work. You can also simply mash the apples with the back of the spoon for a chunkier sauce (you won't break up the skins this way, so make sure you either really like the skin, cut the pieces smaller to begin with, or peel the apples before cooking them).
• Sure it's a cliché, but toddlers love this stuff. And if you live in one of those strange places where summer happens in October (hello, San Francisco), you can also freeze this into some pretty sweet popsicles.

A chess pie for the fall.

This recipe was inspired by the pint of buttermilk in my fridge and the half-full can of pumpkin I had leftover from these amazing Salted Pumpkin Caramels from Food52. Buttermilk Pie, or Chess Pie, is a classic southern dessert, and I thought that tangy custard base would be a great combo with the pumpkin and spices. I make this in a buttered pie plate without a crust. That way it comes together really quickly (think weeknight dessert), and of course, it's gluten-free. You could easily pour the filling into a crust for a more traditional pie.

Active time: 5-10 minutes
Cooking time: About 45 minutes
Yield: 1 pie
Summary: Whisk the ingredients together, pour them in a buttered pie plate, and bake until set.

Recipe:

Preheat oven to 350 degrees, and grease a pie plate with butter.

Then whisk together:

1 cup brown sugar
1 tsp salt
¼ cup pure maple syrup
4 eggs

Next, whisk in:

¾ cup buttermilk
¾ cup pumpkin
1 tsp vanilla or maple extract
1 tsp pumpkin pie spice
2 tbs cornstarch
¼ cup (½ stick) butter, melted

Pour the filling into the buttered pie plate, and bake it at 350 degrees until the center is set and a toothpick comes out clean, about 45 minutes for a 9 inch pie, slightly less for a 10” pie. Cool before slicing.

Notes:

• Store it in the fridge. It's a custard after all.
• If you don't have pure maple syrup on hand, skip it.
• If you don't have pumpkin pie spice, make your own with cinnamon, nutmeg, ground ginger, and allspice in whatever combination you like.
• If you go the crust route, you could try a graham cracker or gingersnap version, maybe even toss in some finely chopped toasted walnuts or pumpkin seeds.

Who doesn’t love chips & dip?

This dip captures the rich sweet flavor of freshly roasted vegetables--a contrast that plays well with the cool, creamy tang of the base. The subtle anise flavor of the fennel gives a bit of unexpected bite, but just about any vegetables can be used here. The only time-consuming part of this dip is slicing the veggies. Once that’s done, you leave them alone to roast and cool, then stir in the other ingredients, and you’re good to go.

Prep time: 10 minutes
Cooking time: 20-30 minutes
Yield: About a cup and a half of dip.

Ingredients:
2 fennel bulbs (or onions or any other veggie you’d like in your dip)
olive oil
½ cup sour cream or crème fraiche
½ cup whipped cream cheese
salt and pepper to taste

1. Line a baking sheet with parchment paper and preheat oven to 425.
2. Thinly slice 2 fennel bulbs (or onions or any other vegetables you’d like). You should have about 2 cups of sliced veggies.
3. Put the sliced veggies on the baking sheet and toss with olive oil. Do not salt yet.
4. Cook the vegetables until really well-roast (some pieces should be just starting to burn), about 20-30 minutes.
5. Cool the veggies, then combine them with about ½ cup sour cream or creme fraiche and ½ cup whipped cream cheese. Season generously with salt and pepper, taste and season some more.
6. Serve cold with kettle chips or veggies.

Notes: Substitute a really creamy 2% Greek yogurt, like FAGE, for a lower fat alternative. This keeps well for several days and can easily be made ahead.

Flavors of the present and memories of the past.

Recently a friend invited a few of us over for a fantastically fresh spring dinner. Each of the main dishes was literally green. The vegetables were blanched briefly if cooked at all, so the flavors of the season really shined through. Oh and the leafy greens? Tossed with vinaigrette and topped with chèvre that was wrapped, like the gift that it was, in bacon.

As we were feasting on the flavors of summer, Old Crow Medicine Show's Wagon Wheel started playing, transporting me back to the summer I met my husband. I was in my first year of law school and he was, for fun, playing in a bluegrass band called Whiskey Friday with my friend. It was a summer of late nights and early mornings. Of music played and listened to in dive bars, Cambridge apartments, parks, and at music festivals by mountains and streams under the stars.

I'd never listened to much bluegrass before that, but it became the soundtrack for the summer. You can't help but feel carefree and happy when you listen to bluegrass, even though the lyrics are usually totally depressing if you stop to consider them—murders, drownings, lost loves, revenge, prison. The sad stories told through the lyrics are sweetened and balanced, though, by the bluegrass melodies, making bluegrass nostalgic practically by definition. It will affect you the way that the best memories do, causing you to smile at the past while you feel the wistful tug of its passing.

Back in the present but flooded with summer sunshine, music, and memories, I started thinking about how I could bottle that feeling, that music. Sweet, but not overly so. Like lemonade.

Freshly-squeezed lemonade is summer. It's bluegrass in liquid form. It's sweetened just enough that you're not bothered by the tartness there in the background—in fact you need it there for balance.

This is a decidedly grown up, mouth-puckering, lemonade. Enjoy it as-is, or flavor it with the fresh summer herbs and berries you have on hand—mint, basil, lavender, thyme, tarragon, strawberry, raspberry, blueberry. And play with and combine the flavors—strawberry/basil, blueberry/thyme, tarragon/blackberry—it all works.

Incidentally, we've also “recipe tested” the gin, vodka, champagne, tequila and, of course, whiskey-spiked versions, so we can tell you first hand those work quite well. (My personal favorite is this whiskey-spiked strawberry lemonade that I've christened the "Red Haired Boy" after the bluegrass classic.)

You make this lemonade right in your jar or pitcher—just dissolve sugar in boiling water then add herbs or berries and freshly-squeezed lemon juice. Cool it right down with a bunch of ice and sip away.

Turn up the bluegrass and kickback with your lemonade. Under the sun or stars if you can.

Bluegrass Lemonade

Active time: 5 minutes
Yield: About a quart (4 cups) lemonade
Special equipment/ingredients: Heat-proof jar, bowl, or pitcher.
Summary: Dissolve the sugar in boiling water then add lemon juice, herbs and/or berries, and ice.

Ingredients:

3 lemons
50 g (¼ cup) sugar
fresh herbs, like mint, basil, thyme, or tarragon (a whole sprig or about a tablespoon if chopped) or fresh berries
boiling water
ice or cold water

Add the sugar to a quart-size mason jar or heat-proof pitcher, then add enough boiling water to easily dissolve the sugar—about a cup should be sufficient. Stir or swirl to dissolve, then squeeze the lemons straight into the jar, straining the juice to catch the seeds if desired. Add the herbs and/or berries. If you'll be enjoying the lemonade right away, mash the berries a bit with a spoon or fork to release the flavors (skip this step if you'll be refrigerating it at least overnight). Fill the jar with ice to cool (or use cold water then refrigerate until cold).

Waste not, want not: If you want to squeeze every bit of taste from those lemons, remove the zest first. You can freeze it to use later in baked goods or savory dishes. And if you're into jam making, gather up the lemon seeds--their natural pectin will help your jam thicken more quickly.

Will, going to town “helping” to cool the lemonade.

Or, the Charcutepalooza June Challenge

I've been watching the #charcutepalooza banter on Twitter for months now, totally enjoying the accounts of learning to cure and smoke meats, grind sausage, and come up with great ways to serve them. I had hesitated to join due to a lack of equipment and space for meat hanging and smoking.

But one night last month, my husband surprised me with a meat grinder. Grinding jokes aside, I realize that the romance of the gift may not be readily apparent. But when I tweeted about the grinder and tagged it #charcutepalooza, people I had never met responded, and it was clear they understood. This is the beauty of Twitter and the communities that can be formed through it. I added the Charcutepalooza logo and link to my blog that night.

If you're not familiar with Charcutepalooza, check out the website and the bloggers. The sometimes-tagline, “Twelve Months of Meat,” tells most of the story.

Oh, and I really like their focus on using meat that's locally-sourced, humanely-treated, well-fed, and sustainable, if at all possible. In this vein, the line that most resonated with me is that if you make your own sausage, you'll know that it comes from a single animal as opposed to hundreds.

The Menu

The recommended sausage for this challenge, apprentice version, was a classic Italian, and although I modified the recipe (see below), it turned out as delicious as promised. I wanted to build a menu completely inspired by this sausage. I also wanted to create a meal that would have the Italian sausage feeling a bit out of its red sauce comfort zone, with a touch of elegance befitting a date night in with my grinder-giving husband. Here's what I came up with and why:

Homemade Italian Sausage with Fennel Slaw served with Porcini Tapioca in Parmesan Cups

Fennel Slaw—Recalling Sauerkraut

For the fennel slaw, I thinly shaved half a fennel bulb and dressed it simply in freshly squeezed lemon juice, olive oil, salt, and pepper. The cold crispness of the fennel and the brightness of the lemon contrasted with the hot greasy (greasy in a good way, maybe the best way) sausage, and the use of fennel as the fresh vegetable was a tribute to fennel seed, the primary flavor in Italian sausage. The fennel shavings, with their pale green color, also mimicked the look of sauerkraut, the classic sausage condiment, with the acidity of the lemon and mild crunch of the fennel reminiscent of the taste.

Porcini Tapioca—Celebrating the Gristle

You read the heading and already know what I'm going to say—a chewy little tapioca pearl tastes and feels a bit like gristle when you bit into it. Yes! Admittedly, you might have to love sausage to find the idea behind this side dish appealing. If you make it for the faint of heart, feel free not to explain yourself.

This savory tapioca was born of a friend's derogatory bubble milk tea comment. As we walked by the Quickly last week, she said she didn't like bubble milk tea because she didn't appreciate being surprised by the flavorless chewy tapioca pearls. They reminded her of gristle. Although she said it as if that were a bad thing, I thanked her for the inspiration.

So yes, the use of the tapioca pearls is a tribute to the small bits of gristle and fat that you find in sausage.

I wanted to give this dish a very deep, rich flavor. Dried porcinis added to the chicken broth used to hydrate and cook the tapioca pearls did the trick. The final dish is a bit like a risotto in terms of both texture and flavor. 

This dish was the surprise favorite. By the next day, my husband had eaten all of the leftovers, some heated but some straight from the fridge, still cold.

(download)

Click here to download:

modern-romance-tapioca-gristle-and-flying-meat-oycmksBJJatIphoAktJt.zip (2.01 MB)

Parmesan Cups

Who doesn't love Parmesan cheese cooked until it's bubbly and crisp?

I served the Porcini Tapioca in little cups made from Parmesan cheese. These are super easy—throw some piles of grated Parmesan on parchment paper, cook until bubbly and slightly browned, then form little bowls using another bowl or cup (full recipe below).

I made these because they used one of the sausage ingredients, would look good on the plate, and be a fun change of pace. But it turned out that the flavor of the end-product worked in an unexpected way. Parmesan cheese, as you know, has a sharp distinctive taste. When you cook it until it's that beautiful orange-brown color of slightly toasty cheese, the sharpness takes on an almost acidic, very bright, flavor, with a bite similar to fresh lemon juice. Because of that unexpected sharpness, these were the best pairing with the rich sausage.

(download)

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modern-romance-tapioca-gristle-and-flying-meat-zGurjhoCfjojimhGjldJ.zip (4.02 MB)

The Review

At the end of dinner, my husband gave me the biggest food-related compliment I've received in some time: “You've officially taken your cooking to the next level. You're now cooking weird stuff that tastes really really good.” (Let's not get into whether what I cooked before was weird but not really really good or boring but tasty. Let's just enjoy the compliment, shall we?) Scroll down for the recipes.

Grinding, the Power and the Glory

Last month's Charcutepalooza was the grinding challenge. Since I missed out on that not yet having a grinder, I'll just add my two cents here.

If you're at all carnivorous and you haven't tried sausage grinding, find a friend with a grinder, go grab some pork, and head on over. It's probably one of the most satisfying things you can do in the kitchen. (Yes, every element of sausage-making lends itself to innuendo.) You put practically frozen meat into the grinder, turn the grinder on or start hand cranking, and beautifully ground meat shoots out the front. Total transformation! And there's something fun about watching the meat shoot through those tiny holes. The feeling of power and satisfaction is akin to ripping that white center pith out of an orange. You know what I'm talking about.

Stuffing, The Real Challenge

It seems I've said quite a bit before even addressing this month's challenge: Sausage Stuffing.

The instructions at the Charcutepalooza site are great. I followed those more or less. Less when I got impatient or lazy. I shouldn't have done that. Learn from the error of my ways. Here are the three main things I did wrong:

1. I got lazy about keeping everything really cold. How important could that be? I mean, they said it's crucial, but they probably weren't serious right? Okay, okay, it turns out it is really important to keep the machine and the ground sausage really cold. When it gets warm, it becomes meat paste. Meat paste! My sticky hands know the truth. Mrs. Wheelbarrow suggests forming the ground sausage into little ovoid shapes and then freezing them before stuffing the sausages. I would definitely, one hundred percent, without question do that next time.

2. I used too much casing. The stuffing challenge instructions suggest cutting the casings to about 3-foot lengths if you're a beginner. Once again, I figured, how hard could it be to do 6 feet instead of 3? And that would be much more efficient. Once again, I learned that the Charcutepalooza instructions are not to be ignored! I had holes I couldn't control with meat oozing out the sides of the casings. (Almost) anything that leads to oozing meat should be avoided.

3. I didn't attach the meat grinder properly, so it loosened, started rotating 360 degrees, and sprayed ground meat all over me and the kitchen. That'll really slow down your stuffing.

A few other tips:

Be Brave. @drublin gave me some great advice: remember that the casings are very strong, so don't try to be delicate when opening them.

“The Water Sausage.” Use the water to stretch the casings out. Since the casings come packed in salt, you rinse them really well and soak them. I rinsed and soaked, and although my casings weren't salty, they were still pretty tight going onto the stuffer attachment. So, I started using the water to open them up. Pinch the casing off with your fingers a few inches below the opening, then run water straight from the tap into the opening like your filling a water balloon. The casing will become “inflated” like a balloon—a sausage-sized balloon. Slowly move your fingers down to let the balloon of water make it's way through the casing, opening it as it goes. (This also let's you identify any holes pretty easily.)

Phone a Friend. Have someone help you with the stuffing. I stuffed the Italian sausage myself, and it was doable, but I stuffed the next round (duck sausage) with my husband. Besides being way more fun to have company in the kitchen, stuffing going much faster with two people, and it's a totally fun activity because you get to work together and actually make something—sausage and memories, aw. Plus, when you throw most of them in the freezer, you can give them fun labels, like “Duck Sausage Stuffed Despite the Flying Meat Incident.”

The Recipes

Italian Sausage

Since this was my first challenge, I used the Charcutepalooza Recipe, but adapted it. I didn't set out to change it, but I had pork sitting in my fridge waiting and waiting for the butcher to remember to order the extra pound of fat. I reminded him once nicely. He's a busy guy. I still don't have it. I decided to make the sausage without the extra fat rather than risk becoming known as the Back Fat Lady at the local butcher. Since I wanted it to be fattier, I added a bunch of finely grated Parmesan and a touch of extra cream. I also used red instead of white wine and threw in nearly half a small head of garlic, minced.

The sausage was totally delicious and I will make it again. The texture was noticeably different without the extra fat, but I have a taste for “dry” sausages. It reminded me of Boerewors, the classic of my mother-in-law's native South Africa (and, since it's not widely available in the U.S., one of the motivating factors for my wanting to learn to make sausage in the first place).

Porcini Tapioca

Cooking time: 15-20 minutes
Soaking time: At least 1 hour
Special equipment/ingredients: Dried porcini mushrooms are available in most major U.S. grocery stores and in specialty food stores. Tapioca is widely available, often with baking supplies and puddings. I used the Bob's Red Mill brand.

Summary: Soak the tapioca and porcini in broth, add additional broth, the cook, adding cream and wine to finish.

Ingredients:

¼ cup, small pieces of dried porcini mushrooms

2 ½ cups chicken stock

½ cup tapioca, small pearls

¼ tsp fresh thyme

¼ cup heavy cream

splash dry white wine (I used dry white vermouth)

salt and pepper to taste

1. In a medium-sized saucepan, soak porcini and tapioca pearls in 2 cups of chicken stock (reserving ½ cup for later) for at least 1 hour and up to 4 hours.

2. Add the remaining stock, thyme, salt and pepper. Bring the tapioca to a boil, then immediately turn it to low and add cream and wine.

3. Simmer, uncovered, for 15-20 minutes, stirring occasionally.

Parmesan Cups

Active time: 15-20 minutes (if you're grating your own cheese)
Cooking time: 6 minutes

Summary: Form circles of grated cheese and cook them until bubbling, then form Parmesan cups by molding the warm discs around a small cup or bowl.

Ingredients:

Parmesan Cheese, Grated (about ½ cup per Parmesan Cup depending on the size)

1. Heat the oven to 400°F and line a baking sheet with parchment paper.

2. Select and have ready a small bowl or cup (small ramekins work well) that you'll use to shape your Parmesan discs around to form bowls.

3. Figure out, by eyeballing the cup/bowl you've chosen, about how large your Parmesan disc will need to be to fold around it and form a Parmesan cup. Then sprinkle the Parmesan onto the parchment paper in discs of that size. Usually you'll want your Parmesan disc to be at least 4 inches in diameter larger than your cup or bowl.

4. Bake the Parmesan at 400°F until it's bubbly and lightly browned, about 6 minutes. Open the oven door but leave the tray in the oven (the Parmesan discs cool quickly, and once they're at room temperature, they will be too brittle to mold into a cup).

5. Working quickly, remove one Parmesan disc from the oven with a spatula and form it around the bowl. Repeat with remaining Parmesan discs.

Outtakes

(download)

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modern-romance-tapioca-gristle-and-flying-meat-ouxdjhdEyfcbGmIEuCfb.zip (4.74 MB)

I've started posting some informal write ups on my No Recipes page.

Check it out now and you'll find Spicy Pickled White Asparagus & Lamb Pasties.

Have fun playing around and let these inspire your own versions. Many more to come!

Tangy buttermilk almond ice cream studded with cherries.

The two key ingredients in this ice cream are the buttermilk, which gives it a subtle tang to offset the sweetness, and the almond paste that adds an extra layer of almond flavor with a made-for-ice-cream texture. Cherries and almonds are a natural pairing, and, while this ice cream is wonderfully rich and complex as is, you can take it over the top by drizzling it with bittersweet chocolate sauce and sprinkling it with toasted almonds.

(download)

Click here to download:

cherry-almond-ice-cream-JvthFxefJcFmvfrfCfvp.zip (3.5 MB)

To make the ice cream, you'll either need an ice cream maker, a deep baking dish or bowl and a lot of patience, or a coffee can, some salt, and a lot of patience.

Ice cream is just a thin custard that's been churned (stirred or shaken around inside of a frozen vessel). Like anything, making ice cream gets easier, and quicker, with practice. If you're attempting ice cream for the first time, be prepared for it to take you a while to make the custard—probably 30-45 minutes. The key to making the custard, especially at first, is to cook it over low heat. Since the custard is egg-based, cooking it at too high a heat will cause the eggs to scramble. If you keep the heat low and stir the custard frequently, the eggs yolks will cause the custard to thicken, and your ice cream will turn out perfectly even the very first time.

Ice cream custards are typically made of some combination of milk, cream, sugar, and egg yolks. My method calls for you to whisk the egg yolks and set them aside. On the stove, gently heat the sugars, milk, and cream over very low heat until it starts to feel warm, not hot. You should be able to keep your finger in the pot comfortably. Then, start whisking the milks and sugar continuously and add the egg yolks while still whisking. The whisking both cools the mixture slightly (no scrambling!) and incorporates the egg yolks.

Ideally you'll want to make the custard the day before you want to churn your ice cream. Starting with a really cold custard will ensure your ice cream freezes up nicely.

There's nothing quick about making ice cream. So take your time making it, and take your time enjoying it.

Cherry Almond Ice Cream

Active time: 25 minutes to 1 hour, depending on experience and equipment
Cooling/Freezing time: Approximately 1 day. See notes below on speeding the process
Yield: About a quart (4 cups) ice cream
Special equipment/ingredients: Ice cream maker (see note above). Almond paste (or Marzipan) is available in most grocery stores, generally in the baking section and/or with the nuts. Defrosted frozen cherries work fine if fresh are not available—use just a spoonful of the juice so the final texture doesn't become too icy.

Summary: Whisk egg yolks into warmed sugar, milks, cream, and salt, then cook until thickened. Add cream and extract, cool, then churn, adding almond paste and cherries at the end.

Ingredients:
200 g (1 cup) sugar
180 ml (¾ cup/6 oz.) buttermilk
180 ml (¾ cup/6 oz.) whole milk
360 ml (1 ½ cups/12 oz) heavy cream
5 eggs yolks
½ tsp almond extract
pinch salt
155 g (about 1 cup if whole/5.5 oz) cherries, roughly chopped and refrigerated
100 g (3.5 oz) almond paste or marzipan (half of a 7 oz. tube)

1. Prepare ice cream maker (putting bowl in freezer if your model requires it, etc.).

2. Dice the almond paste by quartering it lengthwise then cutting each quarter into ¼-inch pieces. Store the pieces in the freezer, spreading them out so they don't stick together. Freezing the almond paste makes it easier to incorporate into the ice cream as it churns.

3. Whisk egg yolks well and set aside, rinsing your whisk and keeping it handy.

4. Combine sugar, buttermilk, milk, half of the heavy cream (reserving the other half), and salt in a pot over low heat, whisking occasionally, until it is very warm but not hot. You should be able to keep your finger in the pot comfortably at this point. The goal is to be able to add the eggs to a pot that's warm but not hot enough to cook them.

5. Start whisking the milks and sugar continuously then add the eggs yolks all at once as you continue to whisk. (Put a spoon in the custard now and notice that it runs off rather than “coating” the spoon as it will once it's ready to be removed from the heat.)

6. Turn the heat to medium (beginners may wish to keep the heat low), and whisk the custard occasionally as it heats, the begin whisking almost continuously once you start to see steam.

7. When the custard thickens and you feel a little more resistance when whisking, remove it from the heat, and stir in the almond extract and remaining cream. The custard will not be extremely thick, but if you stick your spoon in again, it should coat the spoon—you'll notice a difference from the earlier dip of the spoon.

8. At this point, if the custard is lumpy despite your stirring and low heat settings, you can strain it. Otherwise, skip this step since it creates more dishes and isn't necessary for smooth custards. Pour the custard into a refrigerator-safe container and cool it at room temperature or use an ice bath to speed the process.

9. Refrigerate the custard overnight then churn according to the manufacturer's directions, adding the almond paste and cherries during the last minute or two of churning.

Note on speeding up the process (3-6 hours start to finish): Assuming your ice cream maker is prepared, you can make this ice cream in a matter of hours. Put the chopped almond paste in the freezer as directed above. Use an ice bath to cool the custard, stirring it continuously and replacing the ice as necessary. Get the custard as cold as possible in the ice bath (about 30 minutes). Refrigerate the custard for about 2 hours (instead of overnight), then churn as directed. The ice cream will be ready to eat when it comes out of the ice cream maker, but the consistency will be closer to soft serve. It typically takes 2-4 hours in the freezer to attain the traditional ice cream consistency.

Other Resources

In my mind, David Lebovitz is the ice cream king. If you're looking for more information about ice cream making, or if you want to be thoroughly entertained with tales of an American in Paris, told with a wry wit and perceptive eye, not to mention incredible recipes and flavor combinations, don't miss his blog. Here are a few great general pieces on ice cream making:

How to Make Ice Cream Without a Machine
How Long Does Ice Cream Last?
Ice Cream Makers: Buying an Ice Cream Machine
Recipes To Use Up Leftover Egg Whites