Strawberry

Creating a whole book with lots of recipes for sorbets means that you run the risk of using the word “refreshing” too often. But this sorbet is truly the most refreshing of them all, so I saved that word to describe it. Each bite is pure, frosty bliss. I use a rosé wine that’s not too sweet, with a touch of fruitiness. You could use almost any blush wine that leans toward the dry side as well, though in saying so I risk losing cred in the eyes of wine lovers and oenophiles. Because of the quantity of wine in this sorbet, it will not freeze very firmly in your ice cream machine and will be somewhat soft when you scrape it out. But don’t worry. When you go to serve it a few hours later, you’ll find that it’s the perfect texture, and yes, very refreshing.

This frozen yogurt is a snap to put together, especially welcome in the summer which is when you may want to limit your time in a warm kitchen. But don’t let its ease of preparation fool you; this vibrantly colored frozen yogurt provides the biggest blast of strawberry flavor imaginable.

Brilliant pink fresh strawberry ice cream is a classic flavor and, along with chocolate and vanilla, is an American favorite. I’m a big fan of any kind of berries served with tangy sour cream, but I think strawberries are the most delicious, especially when frozen into a soft, rosy red scoop of ice cream. Macerating the strawberries beforehand magically transforms even so-so berries into fruits that are brilliantly red. Try to eat this ice cream soon after it’s been churned.

In my humble opinion, red plums make the best preserves, and certainly one of the easiest. Their skins give the jam a pleasant tartness and contain so much pectin that even inexperienced jam makers will be blushing like rosy plums with the pride of success. Tossing the fruit with sugar and letting it stand for a few hours intensifies the color of the strawberries so that the jam cooks up with a vivid crimson color.

Many consider the area behind the Gare du Nord in Paris rather dubious. Yes, it’s home to the Paris headquarters for the Hell’s Angels. But lots of amazing ethnic foods can also be found there, for which I’m happy to brave the bikers and travel a bit out of the way. Of the various cultures that have opened restaurants and grocers in that part of Paris, Indian is the most prominent. At night, the blue neon–illuminated stands of the Indian épiceries feature all sorts of odd-looking produce that remain a mystery to me. But I do know mangoes. During their season in late spring, I head to that neighborhood and buy them by the case. I use them in everything, from tropical fruit salads to mango daiquiris (which I’m sure aren’t as popular with the Hell’s Angels as they are with my crowd). But a few invariably get churned up into a batch of this sorbet, along with a basket of strawberries from my local market and a dash of rum, which even the gruffest biker couldn’t resist.

If you’re as wild about berries as I am, you’ll find that this pie is the height of luxury and one of the season’s greatest treats. It’s a dessert that I make only in the summer, at the moment when berries are abundant and at their peak. When I lived in San Francisco, I’d drive east across the bay to Monterey Market in Berkeley where flats of berries were so plentiful—and so inexpensive—that I found it impossible not to come home with at least a few piled up in my trunk. In addition to turning the berries into jams, compotes, and sorbets, I’d always bake this pie. A total of 6 cups of berries makes up the filling—use whichever types you prefer. Unless you buy berries by the flat, like I did, most berries are sold in half-pint or pint baskets, so expect to have some leftover fruit, which I know you’ll put to good use. I always did.

I’ve found that as I get older, I tend to forget about the things that aren’t all that important to me, like paying bills, what day it is, and so on. But I never, ever forget a dessert. A few decades ago, some friends who had lived in Brazil for a few years invited me for dinner and served bien me sabe, a moist concoction of sponge cake and coconut cream. And I never got it out of my head how fantastic that simple combination tasted. Years later, when I was the pastry chef at a restaurant that specialized in Asian cooking, I had the opportunity to seek out and use all sorts of tropical fruit, many of which I hadn’t ever seen before. And I thought bien me sabe would be the perfect backdrop for a jumble of exotic flavors. Although I’ve used the types of tropical fruit that are the most widely available, feel free to add or use others in place of what I’ve suggested. But just be sure to heat them through, as most tropical fruits contain a heat-sensitive enzyme that causes custards to break down. I learned this the hard way. I like the way large shreds of fresh coconut look on top of this dessert. If you have the inclination, crack one open, shave off large shards, and toast them to use as garnish.

This recipe was first published in the New York Times as part of an article on different kinds of shaved ice. The paper’s Diner’s Journal blog asked readers to suggest different flavors, and I had to pick one and come up with a recipe. I chose horchata, a milky beverage often made with rice, because I thought it would go perfectly with the luscious, juicy strawberries that filled the market stands at that time. It’s worth seeking out Mexican cinnamon, as its flavor makes all the difference in this raspado. If you want a stickier, sweeter syrup, add another can of sweetened condensed milk.

This is probably one of the most common paletas—maybe because the flavor is so kid- and adult-friendly. Strawberry paletas have been my brother’s favorite since he was a kid. The best strawberries in Mexico are from Irapuato; they’re a kind of wild strawberry that sweetens the air, and people travel from all over to get big baskets of them. If you are lucky enough to have access to wild strawberries, which are smaller than those that you find at grocery stores but have intensely concentrated sweet flavor, please use them to make these paletas. They are so good and also quite delicate, so they squish easily—perfect for our purposes.

This strawberry ice cream has an old-fashioned pale pink color with delicious chunks of whole fruit inside. Using light cream and milk in place of heavy cream reduces the fat and calories without compromising the taste.

Here you have the Queen of Tarts: fresh figs and apricot jam are a wonderful counterpart to the sweet and tangy taste of the seasonal berries and kiwi.

I get raves when I make this cheesecake, and I’m sure you will, too.

This is a special vegan cake that’s an impressive dessert for dinner guests. The custard and fruit make a delightful topping that’s fat-free and looks like you toiled for hours over it.

The filling for these crêpes is made with mirin, a Japanese cooking wine made from sweet brown rice. You can find it at health food stores, Asian food stores, and possibly your local supermarket. This is a fabulous vegan dish, ideal for brunch.

This recipe is a little like karaoke: not exactly the original, but still a a lot of fun, and without all the production. One of my fondest kitchen memories is making the dessert or sweet topping that the French call sabayon and the Italians call zabaglione. A combination of whisked egg yolks, marsala wine, and sugar, it’s a high-wire act that has to go right from the heat to the plate. Get it right, and it’s a froth of pure delight. Put it under the flame for a few seconds too long, and you’re toast. This immensely more healthful version, which features mango and coconut, provides a similarly flavorful lightness, minus the need for perfectly timed kitchen pyrotechnics. It’s great alone, or serve it drizzled over berries or rice pudding.

A lot of people wonder why adding healthy items like flaxseeds to a decent-tasting smoothie destroys the taste. The answer is that the smoothie recipe didn’t take into account the items you’d want to add. The normal fix is to add a ton of sweetener, but I don’t agree with that approach, especially in recipes for cancer patients. But the berry blast of this smoothie plays well with the vital flax and whey. The abundant antioxidants make this smoothie one for the books.

Old-fashioned shortcake is made with biscuit dough, not cake batter. This makes a great fresh dessert or a fancy weekend breakfast. You eat it warm, straight from the oven! And the Vegan Whipped Topping is an extra-special treat. I was unable to find a dairy-free, soy-free whipped topping, so I whipped up my own! Use it anywhere you’d use whipped cream.

Celebrate the Fourth of July in healthy style with this very berrybedecked vanilla cupcake. Berries will be in their prime for this gorgeous, patriotic dessert.

Requiring no cooking and no blending, this soup takes full advantage of the lush fruits of midsummer.

Enjoy the convergence of strawberries and midsummer berries in a sweetly spiced broth.

This and the following berry soup are the only fruit soups in this chapter that need a bit of cooking. The wine and spices give it a wonderfully complex flavor.

Jack could eat fruit all day long, especially berries. He is enamored with different colors and shapes, so to set them off, we love to make him these sweet, jiggly salads. We serve them at playdates with his friends Lex, Brady, and Colin (they’re triplets, y’all) and make a game of digging up the fruit in the Jell-O (yup, with their hands—it’s messy!).

Shortcakes remind me of the ice cream socials we used to have in my small town when I was growing up. We always had strawberry shortcakes, but now I throw raspberries into my version to make them a little bit fancier and a lot more fun. I also make them free-form—by not using a biscuit cutter, I get cakes that look craggy and knobby, kind of like little toads. But they have a beautiful crumbly texture and act like sponges for the fruit juice without getting soggy. These are SOOOOO delicious that I can hoover a few of them in one sitting!

Dimming the lights and flambéing a dessert tableside makes an exciting end to a meal. If you are doing this for your grand finale at a dinner party, practice in the confines of the kitchen a couple of times first. If your flambé doesn’t ignite you might be left blushing tableside. Overdo it on the rum and you will have rosy cheeks for sure.