In the good old days, I typically contributed two pies to the festivities: pumpkin (I always used the traditional recipe off the Libby's pumpkin-can label) and Julia's Tarte Normande aux Pommes (a custard-filled apple tart topped with a dusting of caramelized powdered sugar - you serve it warm and it's totally divine). Both these delights are now, of course, off the menu.
I suppose there exist no insurmountable obstacles between me and a return to pie-baking, except that somehow - even after a year+ of gluten freedom-fighting - I have still not got round to experimenting with shortcrust and sweetcrust pastry. This is a dreadful oversight on my part and one that I had not fully appreciated until, oh, two days ago when the subject of Thursday's dinner-afters came up with DMR. By that time, of course, it was too late to embark upon the intense (and no doubt extremely time-consuming) R & D such an undertaking would require, so I cast around for some alternate possibilities.
Sir demanded chestnut brownies since they are his favorite sweet of all time, gluten-free or gluten-filled. I acquiesced to his wishes, since chestnuts are seasonal and festive and unusual enough in desserts to preserve my reputation as an outside-the-typical-cornucopia kind of gal. But what to serve with them? Last year, I made Craig Claiborne's Pumpkin Mousse to rave reviews, but this year I had a hankering to do something different. The solution presented itself when I went down to the basement to get some more paper towels. There, on the Metro shelving just beside them and all my hundreds of spare plastic affinage boxes, lay my freezer bowl - full of inspiration and ready to go.
Ice cream! Not only that, but pumpkin ice cream, yum. I already had some pumpkin butter in the fridge, so it was the work of only a few minutes to make some spice-infused custard. I glopped in some of the velvety terra-cotta elixir and - hey presto - a stunning accompaniment to smoky-sweet chestnut brownies. A garnish of chocolate leaves wrapped in suitably earth-toned foil will provide the final flourish on the big day.
A very happy Thanksgiving to all!
Pumpkin Ice Cream
Combine 2.5 cups of whipping cream and 2.5 cups of half-and-half in a large saucepan. Toss in a couple of cinnamon sticks and several whole dried allspice berries. Apply medium heat until the pan's contents are all steamy. At this point, the kitchen will take on delightful smells and you will not mind a bit that there will be no pumpkin pie tomorrow. Clap a lid on the pan and let the contents infuse for 20 minutes or so.
Meanwhile, beat together 8 room-temperature egg yolks and a cup of sugar until pale and creamy. When the dairy has done its thing, strain it then slowly ladle it into the egg mixture, whisking all the time.
Return the whole lot to the burner and cook slowly, stirring continuously with your favorite wooden spoon, until the custard coats its back or the temperature reaches 170 deg F. Alchemical processes being what they are, these events should transpire at roughly the same time.
Strain the custard into a bowl set inside another bowl filled with ice. Grate in several lashings of fresh nutmeg.
When the mixture is utterly cold, fold in about a cup of pumpkin butter, more or less - the precise amount will be determined by how tawny you wish the final product to be. I admit I did not use homemade pumpkin butter for this batch of ice cream, but some perfectly respectable all-natural stuff I found locally. I suppose you could also use garden-variety pumpkin puree. Check for spice and adjust to taste. If I were feeling wild I might add a pinch of cayenne pepper at this point.
Chill the custard overnight. Next day, spin it in your favorite ice cream device then - if you can wait that long - chill for several hours before eating.
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