Drown Your Sorrows in Vegan Ice Cream

I don't know about you, but when I'm sad I like eat ice cream and put "Everyday is Like Sunday" and "Sad Little Moon" on circular repeat. Preferably this all occurs while I am also still in my pajamas. The extraordinary number of ice cream pictures which follow and my ipod song rankings should offer some indication of how sad I've been.

It's not all bad though, no, I don't mean to claim more than my mopey due, it's just sad times around here as I am immersed in the care of and worry for my kitty love, Odin, who is very ill and is slowly slipping away from us. But there are wonderful things in the world too, like aprons and homemade rugelach, surprise packets of tea, cake decorating books, the constant flow of cheerful holiday messages and pictures of fat babies and friends having fun, the re-capping of mad-cap years, special falafel deliveries, the gathering of friends and family, gloriously spontaneous gifts and kindnesses unlooked for, morning sun reflecting bright off of snow banks, big rumbling purr sessions, hand-carved wooden bulbs of garlic, a small black cat in the window watching the snow fall, extravagant Christmas lights, baking, baking, baking, and pints of Wheeler's Black Label ice cream in the freezer.



I know it wasn't long ago that I gushed about Wheeler's, so seeing this you're all likely thinking I've sold my soul to them, but if I told you they paid up in quality vegan ice cream, would you forgive me?

I recently asked the kind folks at Wheeler's to whip up a couple batches of scrumptious vanilla ice cream for use at a four-course vegan dinner designed and executed by Amie Swanson, head chef at Veggie Planet. One was a "plain" vanilla and the other was bourbon-spiked in that special Wheeler way, which is to say, liberally. It is a generous hand that tilts the bottle into their creamy mixes. Since they are creative vegan ice cream mavericks who have designed more ice cream flavors than I can fathom and who are always looking for new flavors, our vanilla request probably bored them to tears, but they came through with style, offering up this perfectly textured, deeply flavorful ice cream.



Every other month or so, Amie holds these special dinners at Veggie Planet and for this last one I went behind the scenes to work for my dinner. I peeled beets, we listened to Blondie, we plated food and served no less than four delicious dessert elements: slices of vanilla bundt cake, a spiced pear compote and a scoop each of the vanilla and bourbon ice creams all of which was drizzled with caramel sauce. And did I mention that dessert also came with freshly made hot chocolate? When Amie told me about her idea for the menu, discussion of dessert took up more than half the time. Do I even need to say that I like that way that her mind works?

There was no time to take pictures of the desserts actually going out on the tables, so this is a recreation of Amie's sweet finale seen in the precious few hours of sunlight we are getting around here these days. I added an unorthodox garnish of fresh basil that might be cataloged as a little culinary craziness, but I really enjoyed the mellow, earthy sweet and savory notion that it provided. The ice cream met all of these flavors well, providing a soft, but not at all boring component to the dessert as it soaked decadently into the light vanilla cake. Loaded with citrus rind, vanilla bean, peppercorns, cardamom, cinnamon and star anise, the pear compote was a complex complement to the soft, sweet flavors of the rest of the dish.

Compote is one of those interesting terms that can actually refer to a number of different dishes. One is the fruit dish, like the pear compote in this dessert, simmered in a sweetened broth with spices and dried fruit, and served either hot or cold. Another is a "game" meat dish like rabbit or pigeon that is stewed for hours, and the final version is a Slavic drink that has been popular since the Ottoman times and which is made of dried fruit and sugar. Fruit compote is a great thing to serve as a light dessert just on its own in a pretty dish or along with a slice of cake or a scoop of ice cream.



And since I took away a little bit of leftover ice cream from the Veggie Planet dinner and since I haven't been feeling the best, I gave myself license to dream up some more ice cream concoctions. Now, it's not that I don't enjoy ice cream on its own, it's just that I enjoy ice cream with other stuff more.

For this sundae I did a simple black and white theme. Layering half vanilla and half chocolate cake batter into small panettone papers, I made marbled black and white cake which I topped with the plain vanilla ice cream, a chocolate sauce made with my current favorite chocolate, Milagros, produced by Dagoba with cacao from Peru, and finally garnished with flaked walnuts and crushed cocoa nibs.



Single origin chocolates are not necessarily superior to chocolates made from cacao that comes from various regions which is then mixed together, but there is something to the fact that cacao beans have distinct flavors gained from the environment in which they're grown. Cacao beans are highly variable and take on different flavors according their respective geographical areas and the varying environmental conditions in those areas. Those distinct flavors are lost or muted when mixed. In fact, that's one of the primary reasons why chocolates are made with materials from different parts of the world, to achieve a consistent flavor over time and make chocolate which reliably tastes the same. To ensure that their chocolate will taste exactly the same time and time again, makers will mix and match and meld to achieve particular flavor profiles, rather than letting the individual tastes and natural fluctuations in flavor come through.

Single origin chocolates triumph in individuality and you can zero in on things you like about the flavors of particular growing regions. I know, for example, that I love a little spice in my chocolate and I find that Peruvian chocolate tends to be slightly spicy, it also has a slight floral quality to it. Even if it's not single origin, it's always relevant to know, both as an abstract point of interest and as a political concern, where your chocolate is coming from, which is another reason I appreciate chocolate companies that detail the sources of their cacao beans and designate their dealings with growers as fair trade and sustainable--there are some nasty dealings in the industry, best to know what you're shelling out for when buying chocolate.



Here is another twist on the black and white sundae. Back to my dear brownie sundae formula, I made this sundae with a scoop of vanilla and the final bits of the ridiculously decadent (that would be a complement) chocolate ice cream that I got to test out from Wheeler a while ago. (I'd been hoarding the last little bit of it just for an occasion such as this...after having bolted through most of the container immediately upon receiving it.)



I wanted something rich and fruity at the same time, so this fudgy brownie and the chocolate ice cream took care of the richness while the vanilla gave a lighter touch to keep the sundae from being an all out chocolate bomb and provided a nice, clean base for the black pepper and blackberry coulis to really shine through with sharp fruity tones. Coulis, which is just a strained fruit sauce, can be made easily from any frozen or fresh fruit you have on hand. Simply put some fruit and liquid (water works, so do liqueurs or even wines) in a food processor or blender, mix until smooth and then strain out the seeds. Save squeeze bottles from things like mustard or agave syrup, even water bottles, fill them with the coulis and use to decorate the plate for instant f-a-n-c-y.



And here lies the penultimate scoop of Wheeler's Black Label super chocolaty chocolate ice cream. It was dedicated to the cause of my chocolate chai cupcake sundae. The landing pad for this chocolate ice cream was a dark chocolate cupcake spiced with cardamom and made with 1/4 walnut flour, 1/4 whole wheat pastry flour and 1/2 all purpose flour, topped with a ganache made from Vosges' Calindia chocolate bar which is made up of Indian green cardamom, organic California walnuts, dried plums and dark Venezuelan chocolate.



A dollop of vegan whipped cream was beat with cinnamon, ginger, black pepper and vanilla before being added to the top and a light sprinkle of cinnamon finished this spicy sweet concoction. Birthdays often seem to call for cake and ice cream, but in the world of sundaes, it seems like we always have brownies. I think I'm becoming an advocate for cake and cupcake sundaes.



Oh, but you know I still love brownie sundaes, especially this one, a bourbon ice cream and maple confection that features the true treat of maple cream. While we were in Vermont for Thanksgiving, my friends and I went out to a maple farm and stocked up on syrup, cream, and candies. We also got to do a maple syrup tasting there which was really educational. Tasting all the different grades and colors of syrup, it was very clear how different they were not in terms of quality, but just in terms of taste and even texture. I had always thought that the grades of syrup referred to their quality, but in fact they refer to time. Grade A light syrup comes earliest in the season when the weather is coldest, Grade B dark is made at the end of the season and has a thicker texture and very strong maple flavor. Grade A light has the mildest maple taste and the thinnest texture. I also thought that it was not perhaps as sweet as others and really liked it. Apparently, this is the best grade of syrup to use for making maple candies, like the pressed flower below that tops this sundae, and maple cream.



Maple cream is a delicately smooth spread that feels like a thick cream on the tongue (hence the name, there is generally no actual dairy in maple cream) that is made by heating maple syrup to a high temperature, then rapidly cooling it while stirring over an ice bath. There is a ten minute video on Mass Maple that details exactly how to make it at home. Once the little tub I bought at the maple farm runs out, I may try this. Maple cream is not exactly easy to come by, but if you do find some and like maple, I highly recommend it. When gently heated, the maple cream turns into a beautiful golden caramel that drizzles wonderfully and then hardens slightly on the ice cream. The creamy maple flavor and the boozy blast of bourbon made for a really serious sundae that I would make again and again, but which is probably best left as a pick-me-up treat on special occasions.



And finally, a plate featuring one of the chocolate raspberry mini tarts that you'll be seeing again as soon as I work on my massive tart post. I know berries are terribly out of season, but (like a sucker) I bought some on sale at the store in a desperate and futile bid to regain some feeling of summer in our freezing, snow-filled week. Chocolate and raspberry is one of my favorite flavor combinations, so this dessert plate was a perfect little treat.



With a mini portion scoop that I use for measuring out cookie dough, I arranged three tiny scoops of Wheelers vanilla ice cream in a soy sauce dish, sprinkled with chocolate and topped with a raspberry. It was like something you'd be served at a wonderfully fussy tea, but the fun swirls and dots of raspberry-blackberry coulis and the bold chocolate tartlet with vanilla cream filling and fresh raspberries kept it from being just a restrained little dish of ice cream.

I promise that I have also been eating things like vegetables and tofu to wash down all these sundaes and such, but 'tis the season to get sugared up one way or another anyway, so really I'm just doing my part...maybe we can visit with the other food groups on this blog after the holidays!