Ginger Pear Ice Cream

The combination of ginger and pear has been on my mind as of late...blending the two in a creamy base seemed like a no brainer...

The recipe is my own

Yields about 5 cups

The Ingredients:
3 anjou or Bartlett pears, peeled, quartered and cored
1 cup water
1 Tbsp honey
1 Tbsp lemon juice

1 cup whole milk
3/4 cup sugar
1/4 cup fresh ginger, minced
pinch of salt
2 cups heavy cream
1/4 cup candied ginger, coarsely chopped (optional)

The Process:
Whisk together the water, honey, lemon juice.  In a medium saucepan combine the liquid and the pears.  Bring to a boil, reduce heat and simmer until the pears are tender, about 30 minutes.  Discard liquid and allow the pears to cool.

Once cool, puree approximately two thirds of the pears in a blender.  Finely dice the remaining fruit.  Set aside.

In a medium saucepan over medium-heat combine the cream, whole milk, salt and sugar, stirring until the sugar is dissolved.  Add the minced ginger. Bring to a simmer, cover, remove from heat, and infuse for one hour.

Strain the milk into a 2-qt bowl using a sieve lined in cheesecloth  (to remove any ginger fibers).  Stir in the pear puree.  Cover and chill in the refrigerator for 1 to 2 hours, or preferably overnight.

Transfer cream mixture to the ice cream maker and process according to manufacturer's directions.  After about 10 minutes add the diced pear and candied ginger.  Once the ice cream reaches a soft serve consistency (about 20-30 minutes in my ice cream maker) transfer the mixture to a 5-6 cup container and freeze for an additional 2 hours. 


The Review:
I may or may not have accidentally curdled the milk.  It may or may not have inspired other ideas.  You may or may not see an interesting ricotta recipe down the road...

Kitchen mishaps aside...this ice cream turn out pretty well.  The cream MUST be heated with the milk to avoid curdling.  And I knew ginger was acidic.  These things happen.   Given the little mishap, I'm not sure you can lighten this recipe up by using half and half.  You may need the full fat content to prevent such separation.   But you never know...

The ginger flavor was outstanding.  Not to spicy.  Wonderfully warm.  Perhaps a touch too sweet.  The pear, well...I think the pear may have held this ice cream back a bit.  The flavor wasn't very present.  If anything the fruit may have added some nuance to the sweetness of the ice cream.  But none of the flavor.  The puree had the ill effect of making the ice cream slightly grainy as well...I'm not cure if this was due to the fiber in the pears, of the water in the puree crystallizing.  It wasn't a bad mouth feel...but certainly not the creamy concoction I was hoping for. 

Next time around...I'm nixing the fruit and sticking with ginger.  I bet it would be lovely with a bit of candied ginger mixed in...

Oh...and if you ice cream maker instructs you not to fill beyond a certain point, I highly recommend heeding that advice.  Ice cream overflows are not pleasant to clean up!

Roasted Pear Chutney

I've been getting home late all week...which usually means far less time in the kitchen.  To make up for all of the dinners on the go, I promised myself I would make something stellar come Friday.  After perusing cookbooks, bookmarked blogs and Pinterest boards, Maple-Brined Pork Loin and Roasted Pear Chutney came out the clear winner.  Now I need to settle on a side or two.  I am a girl who loves her veggies...

And to up the anticipation just a little bit more I made the Roasted Pear Chutney ahead of time. It made the kitchen smell absolutely divine AND gave me something a little more interesting to stir into my oatmeal in the morning.  Call it a trial run...

adapted from Thyme in Our Kitchen and Epicurious

yields 2-3cups

The Ingredients:
2 pears, peeled and halved
2 Tbsp lemon juice
1 Tbsp brown sugar
3/4 tsp ground cinnamon
1/4 tsp ground cloves
2 Tbsp vegetable oil

1/4 cup maple syrup
1 medium red onion, coarsely chopped
1 clove garlic, minced
1 tsp fresh ginger, minced
3 Tbsp currants
3 Tbsp dried cranberries
1/3 cup white wine vinegar
1 tsp red pepper flakes
1 tsp fresh thyme, chopped

The Process:

Preheat the oven to 350.

Toss the pears with the lemon juice, brown sugar, the cinnamon, and cloves. Coat a roasting pan or baking dish with 1 Tbsp of the vegetable oil. Set the pears cut side down on the pan. Brush the pears with the remaining oil.And place in the center rack of the oven.  Roast until the pears are tender and the coating has caramelized to a deep golden brown, 45 to 50 minutes. Riper pears may need less time. Remove from the oven and allow to cool completely.

While the pears are roasting, in a medium saucepan bring the remaining ingredients to a gentle boil. Reduce   heat and simmer for 5 to 10 minutes. Remove the saucepan from heat and allow to cool.

When the pears are cool enough to handle, scoop out the cores and seeds with a small spoon or a melon baller. Cut the pears into slices or small chunks (I prefer chunks...about 1/2-inch cubed). In a 1 1/2 qt bowl toss together the pears and onion mixture. Cover and refrigerate overnight.  

The chutney will keep for up to two weeks...if it lasts that long.

The Review:

It was really, incredibly, unbelievably difficult NOT to dig right in with a spoon the moment all of the ingredients finally came together.  From the minute I tossed the pears with the cloves and cinnamon I knew we'd be in for a wonderful treat.  Sincerely, right out of the oven, I wanted dearly to drizzle each pear with a little mulled wine reduction and indulge in dessert...

I showed restraint...

The onion, vinegar dried berries and thyme began simmering away on the stove, slowly replacing the pears spicy aroma with a clean tangy scent.  I knew that smell...but I couldn't quite place my finger upon it. Watching the red onion slowly weep it's color to lend the mixture its pink blush, the scent memory became clear.  My Grandmother's kitchen.  Vinegary red cabbage from scratch.  As a kid I hated red cabbage.  And sauerkraut. And now my own kitchen was wrapped in a cloud of old world aromas and I couldn't be happier.  I immediately made note to try this chutney again with rabbit, venison, boar...any rich gamey meats.  With a side of spaetzle and red cabbage...

Twenty four hours later any lingering thoughts of red cabbage were wiped away with the first bite of the fully marinaded concoction.  The fragrant warmth of cinnamon and clove greeted my tongue, balanced with the slight acidic tang of the vinegar.  The bite of the onions followed, offering up a savory hint and a pleasant crunch.  In that moment I was glad I had nixed any notion of first caramelizing or sauteing the onions...their sharpness was actually mellowed a touch by the vinegar, and the crunch from the mere 5 minutes in the pot was an amazing layer of texture.  A touch of thyme nosed through.  And then the pear.  The sweet anchor of the chutney, dancing off all of the other players. A touch of tart from the dried fruit mingled with the sweetness.  And in the last moment the gentle heat of the red pepper lingered, just enough to remind me it was there.  Yet another twist and turn upon my tongue.  I couldn't decide which flavor or texture I enjoyed more, as I continues to sample from the blissfully fragrant bowl.  I had to remind myself that this was made for Friday's dinner.  Though I'm not certain that poor pork loin will be able to hold a candle to its accompaniment...