Sitting gracefully somewhere between an ice cream cake and a pavlova, the vacherin is an effortlessly chic French showstopper of a summery dessert. It is made with layers of ice cream and sorbet, sandwiched between crisp meringue disks. Wrapped tightly in plastic wrap, it can be made ahead and kept in the freezer for up to four weeks.
When you are ready to serve it, simply decorate it with whipped cream, plain or infused, and fresh fruit, herbs, or flowers. If you are feeling extra decadent, you can pour chocolate sauce, hot fudge, or caramel sauce over slices of the cake table-side.
My recipe uses homemade mango sorbet and mint and basil ice cream, but I have also made vacherins with store-bought ice cream, when I wanted to make something delicious but didn’t have access to an ice cream maker.
Bakeries in Cagliari, the capital of Sardinia, all sell these classic almond cookies, each garnished with a single almond in the center.
I questioned whether I should include yet another recipe for amaretti—they are sprinkled throughout this book, and the ingredients for most of them are more or less identical. And yet, the results are all quite distinct, thanks to differences in the handling of those ingredients. In fact, it was eye-opening, as I researched this book, to see how many different and unique iterations the same set of ingredients could create.
In the end, I am glad I included these. They are easy to make and they have a particular appeal, puffing up beautifully in the oven and forming small telltale cracks on their sugared surfaces. They are crunchy on the outside and tender and chewy within. Use the freshest almonds you can find to give these cookies their due. Sardinians use a special nut grinder to achieve the correct texture, but a food processor works well. Note that the dough benefits from an overnight rest in the refrigerator, so start them a day before you plan to serve them.
This cake is the epitome of summer: it’s sticky, jammy, fresh, and not too sweet. The browned butter and ground almonds give it a beautiful nuttiness, and it’s just dreamy with a dollop of crème fraîche on top, on a warm summer’s day.
It will be completely un-shocking that my visit to Japan was more cake-centric, less fish-focused. I ate the flooffiest pumpkin doughnuts, elegant apple shortbread cookie sandwiches, silky coffee caramel flan and cheesecake. At the tiny pastry shop Equal Pastryshop, I ate a strawberry shortcake whose perfection made me want to hang up my apron, because if such baking beauty already exists in this world, then my efforts are futile.
The Japanese shortcake is their refined version of the American shortcake and is layers of dairy-rich sponge, cream and strawberries. Eating it feels like hugging a puppy, the first day of t-shirt weather in spring and knowing you are loved all at once.
In 2017, when we were visiting our daughter-in-law Liv's family in Copenhagen, Eva, her mother, made a delicious meringue torte for us, similar to the schaumtorte of my childhood, a dessert the German part of my family served at Passover, but one that I always thought was too sweet. I loved that the hazelnuts and the dark bitter chocolate of Eva's recipe cut the sweetness of the meringue. Now it is part of our Passover Seder menu, though it also works beautifully throughout the year, especially for gluten-free friends. During the pandemic, when I was in New Orleans, I substituted local pecans for hazelnuts.
I’ve never been a bread pudding person, but I think it’s because the versions I’d tried in the past were almost always very, very heavy. But the concept of custardy baked bread appeals to me on so many levels that I knew it was just a matter of coming up with a lighter and brighter version. The lightness here comes from beaten egg whites that are folded into the bread and custard mixture, giving it a souffléed texture, while the brightness is from lemons—lemon curd, more specifically, which is used also as a sauce for the finished bread pudding. It’s so different from the typical dense, cloying bread puddings I’ve had that it almost feels like a different dessert. Mission accomplished.
Starting out, I was always so scared to try out a Yule Log recipe – they always look so intimidating! But I encourage you to give it a go. Even if it ends up looking like a mess, it’ll still taste delicious! I tried something a little different with this Yule Log and added a line of frozen chocolate cremeux. It’s totally optional but it really elevates the dessert and helps you advance your skills.
This recipe is so light, not overly sweet or heavy. It’s a real showstopper for the Christmas table – the ultimate festive dessert.
Ordinary meringue could be used for these nests, but they won’t be quite so firm, nor will they store so well. Meringue cuite is traditional because it holds its shape so well and is drier. Vary the fruit in these nests depending on the season.
Celebrate strawberry season with this stepped-up strawberries-and-cream dessert. Berries and shards of crisp, pink meringue are folded into Chantilly cream with swirls of tart lemon curd to add a little sparkle.
If the flavors of autumn could be rolled into one, this meringue roulade would be the result: warming cinnamon, burnt honey, sweet apples, and tangy orange come together to make a dessert fit for the festive season. Make sure all your individual components have completely cooled before assembling—you don’t want to create any excess moisture in the roulade. Get ahead by preparing the apples and cream the day before, keeping them refrigerated until needed.