On Saturday, March 20th the first day of spring officially arrives. Of course, living in New York I expect to deal with frigid weather for a few weeks longer, until I can break out my short-sleeved shirts and take the covering off my A/C.
Nonetheless, the change of seasons does inspire a shift in the kitchen. For example, instead of craving a rich, warming lamb stew, I begin thinking of making lighter recipes that take advantage of spring favorites, like asparagus.
And, nowhere is the changing of seasons more noticeable than on the dessert plate. Out goes the default to cinnamon and spice and in come the berries and citrus. So, with only one week left of winter, I feel it my obligation to extoll the virtues of winter desserts.
Just last week, as you may recall, I threw a Thankgiving fete for a number of pals. Why T-day in March? As I mentioned, it's just plain, stubborn foolishness that keeps us from dining on roast turkey and all the trimmings on a more regular basis. (Turkey coma aside.)
In my earlier posting I promised to share the lowdown on my T-day dessert finale. One week later, it's pictured above: Spiced Gingerbread Cake with Pumpkin Ice Cream.
I outright stole the gingerbread recipe from Gramercy Tavern's Claudia Fleming. But, if you're going to be a thief, I highly recommend stealing from the best.
One whiff of the heady aroma of molasses and Guinness Stout boiling together on my stove and I knew the cake would be a winner. The cloves, nutmeg, cardamom, cinnamon, dark brown sugar and loads of ginger put it over the edge into dessert heaven.
Ginger is one of those intense flavors that either raises a dish to new heights or overpowers food with its spicy zing. And, for all that it seems to be happily married in pickle-form to sushi and sashimi, to me it's the quintessential winter baking spice.
And, I'm sure no one will argue that pumpkin is another ingredient that speaks of palate-pleasing comfort and warmth on a harsh winter day. According to Australian news sources it's actually produce worth pinching on a grand scale:
A thief has hit a giant pumpkin competition on the New South Wales north coast stealing a ute-load of vegetables due to go before the judges.
I decided to be a bit tamer about my pumpkin acquisition and went to my local Korean deli. But, I can understand the sentiment nonetheless.
Unable to imagine a Thanksgiving dinner complete without something pumpkin, I dug up an old Saveur recipe for Pumpkin Ice Cream and set to work, mixing and heating the cream, yolks, sugars, pumpkin and spices. Licking the spoon after the custard had chilled I found myself swooning rather inappropriately in my own kitchen. (Add a battery, and I might never have left!)
After a one taste of the final product, my guests' faces froze in unadulterated bliss. It was, in the words of one guest, "scrumptious." The cold, rich, custardy ice cream was an ideal companion to the dark, spicy cake.
Those that said they would abstain from dessert found themselves asking for second helpings. Several asked if I would be willing to make the ice cream by the barrel full - I should just name my price. To top it off, I was later informed that the ice cream had taken centerstage that night in a guest's dream - a dream in which she found herself joyfully cavorting on a mountainside made of the frozen orange stuff. (I'm not going to attempt to interpret what that was really about. And, please, do not post suggestions below.)
Alpine dreams and batteries aside, I think the success of this winter-inspired dessert at a time when all of us are dying for sunshine and the arrival of a few paltry crocuses, proves that winter sweets have a power all their own. A power to be revered and put on a pedestal. (A pedestal made of pumpkin ice cream, perhaps? Battery operated? Nah - It isn't even necessary.)
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