Cherry on Top

Although I was extremely busy this weekend attending to laboratory duties; carrying out much-needed farm maintenance; worrying about my Wensleydale; and pouring over Modernist Cuisine in search of my first project (let's see - Foie Gras Parfait Spheres? Cheese in a Tube? Flourless Gnocchi? Cocoa Nib Curd? Parmesan Creme Brulee with Caramelized Onion Sugar?) I was forced to come up for air when the boys started screaming for ice cream.

We're going through quite a lot of the stuff these days, both in-house and by filling the Requests of Others, so it's proving difficult to keep adequate supplies in the freezer. The current favorite version of basic chocolate (6 egg yolks, one and one-half cups of sugar, 3/4 cup of Dutch process cocoa powder, two and one-half cups of heavy cream, two and one-half cups of half-and-half, ten ounces of milk chocolate, and two ounces of bittersweet) is proving to be the biggest crowd-pleaser yet and I was therefore obliged to get cracking on a fresh batch. That's OK - I can stir custard and browse Modernist Cuisine Volume 6 (the kitchen manual) at the same time, since it is helpfully spiral-bound and printed on spongeable paper.

But since there is no way I will able to maintain my size 00 self if I eat ice cream all summer long, I generally only observe benevolently as others scarf up great bowlfuls. Worry about calories did, however, get me thinking about other uses to which my fabulous ice cream bowl might be put - especially when, as I was attempting to make room in the freezer for two more quarts of creamy dreamy home-made ambrosia, four pounds of frozen cherries (left over from early Spring's chutney sessions) leaped out at me from the chill chest's upper reaches and throttled me on the right temple.

Eager for revenge and additional lebensraum, I decided then and there to make the malefactors into a new kind of icy treat.

Here's how I made Life is a Bowl of Cherries Sorbet.

I zapped in the microwave four pounds of frozen dark sweet cherries until they were reasonably soft. I whizzed them with the food processor's big metal blade for ages and ages until they were utterly smooth. At this point I considered straining the mixture, but I decided I wanted the sorbet to have some heft, so I left it the way it was. I added the juice and zest of one lemon and a few tablespoons of water. It was already dark outside and I didn't feel brave enough to fight the mosquitoes for fresh herbage, but next time I will definitely infuse some lemon thyme in the mixture overnight. I covered the bowl and left it in the fridge for twelve hours.

The next day I added about a cup of simple syrup (I always have some in the fridge, don't you? so useful for sweetening iced tea and coffee!) and gave the whole thing a good stir. This resulted in about one and one-half litres' worth, which is the maximum my bowl will allow. I spun the batter in my frozen contraption and in about twenty minutes I had one and one-half quarts (yes I know - I'm mixing metric and US units: what can I say? I like keeping people on their toes) of vibrantly-colored frosty deliciousness.

I served it with a splash of berry compote and felt extremely health-conscious and virtuous. Not only do the good people at Nutritiondata tell me that cherries are awesome in terms of weight loss (four out of five stars!) and optimum health (four more stars!), but they are also fantastically anti-inflammatory and loaded with Vitamin A.  If I eat enough sorbet, I'll be able to see in the dark!

This will come in very handy when, lacking sufficient hours in the day, I'll be up all night studying Modernist Cuisine.

Next up: Sir and I go for broke and poach some eggs in the Modern Manner.