Showing posts with label Sophie Dahl. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Sophie Dahl. Show all posts

A Rose is a Rose is a Rose

My husband teases me that I am like a nervous vicar when I cook, always slightly fearful that something is about to go horribly wrong ("The organist is ill! The vestry roof is leaking!"). He's right. When I take out my mixing bowls, a twinge of dread looms up. "Can I do this? Is it beyond my abilities? Should I just go out and buy dessert instead?"

But this wasn't difficult, I promise.
(Sophie Dahl's Marbled Rose Petal Ice Cream. From HERE. Or HERE.)

Five were coming for dinner on Friday. Piero had planned the main menu days before, done all his food shopping, and was sitting at the kitchen table lazily nursing a double espresso.

Piero: It's Thursday. Any idea what you're going to make for dessert yet?
Me: Could you please just go for a really long bike ride?

He did.

I picked up Very Fond of Food: A Year in Recipes, Sophie's latest cookbook. Just like her first one, it's food and lifestyle porn at its best -- on page after page, she putters around her kitchen in floaty frocks like a Persephone Books heroine and beams out at you with the most reassuring of smiles. When I spotted her making rose petal ice cream, I was determined to add another notch to my wooden spoon.
  

Marbled Rose Petal Ice Cream 
For the rose petal jam:
2 cups sparkling rosé
1/4 cup superfine sugar
3/4 oz. fragrant rose petals, washed

For the ice cream:
1/2 cup superfine sugar
8 egg yolks
2 cups milk
2 cups heavy cream

I did a quick Google search to make sure I could use the ones growing up the side of the house (quick answer: yes) and went out to pick some. 


They really are so pretty, aren't they? As I separated the petals and gently ran them under cool water, I forgot that I was wearing a ratty t-shirt and a pair of old yoga pants. Life felt airily glamorous and devil-may-care ("I am bathing rose petals in my sink and soon I shall be cooking with them. Because I am an insouciant bohemian with long hair and velvet sleeves.")


It really is quite a glamorous recipe -- I've never made an ice cream that called for two cups of sparkling rosé before.
             

Per Sophie's directions:
Pour the sparkling rosé and sugar in a saucepan on a low heat. Add the rose petals and keep on stirring until the sugar has dissolved. Using a slotted spoon, remove 3/4 of the rose petals and set aside. Carry on reducing the sugar syrup on a medium heat until thick and syrupy. Allow the mix to cool. 

Here it is, the magical elixir. I'm a rose petal jam lover and this beats every one I've ever had. It's just so surprisingly lemony and fragrant and sweetish-tartish and eye-opening.
(The rose petal jelly)

Per Sophie's directions:
In a separate mixing bowl, cream the sugar and egg yolks until pale in color, and keep to the side. In a saucepan, heat the milk and cream until they reach boiling point. Remove from the stove. Whisking the whole time, temper the egg mixture and bring it up to the same temperature as the cream by adding the milk and cream mixture slowly. Add the remaining rose petals. Before churning, keep to one side to cool and then remove the petals.


Pour the custard into your ice-cream maker with half of the rose petal jam and churn as per the instructions. Take the ice cream out of the machine and swirl the remaining jam roughly through the ice cream to make a marbled pink surface. Place in the freezer to set.

It was delicious. The ice cream was rich and custardy and smooth and was a perfect foil for the tingly thrill of the jam. 


I served it with fresh raspberries, blueberries and blackberries and Gwyneth's vegan chocolate brownies (they taste just as good as regular ones) because it's Los Angeles and when you serve people ice cream with eight egg yolks and two cups of cream in it, you need to balance it out a little.

(Vegan chocolate brownies. From HERE. Or HERE.)


(All photos by Lisa Borgnes Giramonti)

Hungry, Dahling?



Saturday, August 1st
Up betimes. Crept downstairs so as not to wake the sleeping prince, put on the kettle and fixed myself a frugal breakfast (bread, cheese, tea, cherries). I was eager to get the mealtime ministrations out of the way so I could concentrate on my newest infatuation.

That would be Sophie Dahl's new cookbook memoir, "Miss Dahl's Voluptuous Delights."

It arrived on Friday via Amazon.co.uk. (It will be published here in 2010.) Based on stellar reviews and recipes excerpted in the Daily Mail, I was not prepared to wait that long. I will just have to make the gas mark and imperial pint adjustments on my own.

The Divine Italian returned home from his morning bike ride just as my excitement reached a fever pitch. I needed to share with someone how fab this book was. Sly minx that I am, I waited until he was in the midst of his post-ride yoga stretches. He's a captive audience then. I plonked the book down in front of him.

Him: (suspiciously) What's that?
Me: Sophie Dahl's new cookbook.
Him: Who's Sophie Dahl?
Me: Roald's granddaughter. Former zaftig supermodel. Used to date Mick Jagger. (rolling eyes) Sometimes you are so straight.

I opened the book to this particularly luscious-looking spread. His reaction was swift.
Him: What's that?
Me: Omelette with carmelized onion and Red Leicester cheese.
Him: I'm starving.

I turned the page.
Me: Isn't the photography amazing? I love how everything is styled. Look at those rumpled linens tied with twine.
Him: Hmmph.

Me: And this tablecloth. It's quasi-Anthropologie.

Me: And that dress. She's like a Persephone Books heroine come to life.
Silence.
I was losing him.
I quickly turned the page.
Him: Stop. What's that?
Me: It's called "Paris mash."
Him: (mid-contortion) Read me the recipe.
I did. It involved Puy lentils, red onions, spinach, vegetable stock, mache, creme fraiche.
His pupils dilated slightly.
Him: I bet that's delicious.

I honed in for the kill. Very casually, I turned to this gorgeous spread.
Him (eyes bulging): What. Is. That.
Me: Beetroot soup. She says it's Norway in a bowl. You can eat it hot or cold. (beat) Probably perfect for today.
He stands up, does one final stretch.
Him: I'm going to Whole Foods. Can I take that book with me?