Summer House Guesting: Mocha Ice Cream

Last week was sheer pleasure: I was a Martha's Vineyard house guest. The art of the house guesting is much like dating; once you've perfected it, you'll no longer need to practice it. Until I can proffer the thrill of my lair, I remain an apologetic mooch.

I was the guest of a couple with whom I've been eager to spend some quality time. They're accomplished professionals, Brooklyn lifers, and so impossibly hip (at twice my age), they're discussing plans for a Manhattan retirement; I mean, how Brooklyn retro-chic is that? To protect their identity, I'll just call them Mom and Dad. Though they aren't my parents, they do belong to someone and that's part of their charm.

Although Mom's cooking reputation preceeded her, in truth she was an accomplished gatherer. The scallops remain in the shop until guests are en route, and the produce is collected daily. With shopping like that, all you need is a little intelligent ingredient assembly, and you'll eat as well as a person can.

I may live a lifetime before I duplicate the intensity of the plum I slurped over Mom's sink, my hand at the ready to catch the juices winding down the salt flats of my neck. As I slurped plum juice off my palm, I realized that I was in the most blissy of blissed out places (rivaling those other experiences you can't engage in while in a shared summer bungalow). So blissy in fact, I then ran out of the kitchen and jumped on a motorcycle in little more than flip flops and a bathing suit, because this was it; the moment I could meet my maker and die happy. What a thrill it was to absorb a perfectly yielding plump ripe plum.

When I came down to earth and back into the kitchen, Mom indicated a desire to "learn" to cook, though she'd been cooking for longer than I was alive. I was eager to "teach", well aware that the lessons would boomerang.

She wanted to learn how to make panzanella and how to perfectly sear a piece of fish, and she wanted to show me these killer buckwheat cookies she clipped from the Times. I just wanted to see where she bought her fish, how she selected it, and understand why she travels into Manhattan a few times a month to market with her first butcher.

Oh and lastly, Mom wanted to figure out how to use her ice cream maker. She inherited the machine from a friend who discarded it from his restaurant like an unrequited lover. It arrived at her house without directions, without a recipe; a bare vessel with tremendous potential, if only she knew how to use it.

We called her friends' restaurant and got some cockamamie recipe calling for weird ice cream stabilizers that we were supposed to locate in an Vineyard scavenger hunt ("Sid Wainer distributes there, just go to a restaurant and ask them for it!"). Um, no. If Mom's going to learn to make ice cream, she's going to make an eggy custard, load it with milk, cream and flavor and freeze the thing. What kind of a home cook needs stabilizers? Certainly not one that buys fresh scallops the day of a dinner party.

So I picked up Mark Bittman's "How To Cook Everything", and cobbled together something original from his umpteen ice cream recipes. Mom wanted Mocha, and so I sent her to shop with a list and went out for a little mid-morning fishing on the jetties.

Now you might ask, if Mom is such an experienced and talented home cook, why didn't she just pick up the not so itty Bitty Bible and figure it out for herself? Well, I'm sure she could have. Maybe the ice cream would have been perfect, maybe it would have been a disaster.

But I promise you this: neither of us would have had nearly as much fun if she'd gone it alone. That's part of the joy of the kitchen, and of summer. While you're eating those drippy plums, finally catching that fish, eating a pot of Dad's steamers, or having the first soft spoonful of just-churned ice cream; half the fun is the event, the other half is sharing it. How many times have you doubled over in laughter in the kitchen on your own? Exactly. That's why summer houses are opened to guests in the summer; some things are just better shared.


Mom's Mocha Ice Cream

1 1/3 c half and half
2/3 c milk
5 ounces semisweet or bittersweet chocolate
1 tablespoon cocoa
2 tsp instant espresso
6 egg yolks
1/2 c superfine sugar
1 cup heavy cream
1 teaspoon vanilla

1. Prepare ice cream maker according to manufacturer's directions (this usually involves letting the insulated part chill overnight).

2. Bring half and half and milk to a scald in a medium pot; turn heat off and add chocolate, cocoa and espresso. (Don't let the liquid get to a boil or it may boil over -- keep a watchful eye on these proceedings.) Let the chocolate sit about 5 minutes, then whisk until you have an even chocolatey liquid.

3. Meanwhile, back at the counter, use a handheld or standing mixer to beat the egg yolks with the superfine sugar in a medium bowl. Take it to the ribbon stage, when you get lift the beaters and get the mixture to hold a figure 8 for a few seconds before it disappears.

3. Now you'll want to temper the egg mixture into the chocolate mixture; slowly whisk in about 3/4 cup of the chocolate liquid into the eggs, then very slowly whisk the entire egg mixture back into the chocolate. Continue whisking, over medium low heat until the mixture thickens. You'll want to heat it to just short of 180F degrees, as this is the temperature at which eggs solidify. Remember, the hottest part of your pan is the closest to the heat, so get your whisk in there and keep it moving.

4. When mixture has thickened, pour it into a glass bowl, and stir in cream and vanilla. You'll want to cool this custard before putting it in the ice cream maker, and the best way to do that is to submerge it in a larger bowl of ice water, and continue to stir it. This insulated "cold sleeve" will cool the mixture in about 10 to 15 minutes.

5. When the mixture has cooled, put it in the ice cream maker and let it do it's thing; it should take about 15 to 20 minutes to create a nice, soft ice cream. Don't fret; the ice cream will harden further in the freezer. Pack it into 2 pint or 1 quart container and freeze. Although the temptation is to freeze it in the ice cream maker, be wary that the insulated sleeve will keep this dessert quite hard; you'll want to remove it from the freezer and place it in the fridge a few hours before serving. If you put it in a different container (plastic, glass, paper), simply refrigerate for 30 minutes before serving.