Fall Flavor: Salted Caramel

   I have been around. I've seen some things and some stuff. This summer I did some coast-to-coast travel, and had the ability to taste some of the best ice cream in the country.
   I was in San Francisco, California for a day. Prior to my trip I throughly searched for the best spots in the NoCal area. I had only heard of two: Bi-Rite Creamery and the infamous Humphry Slocombe. I only had time to hit one, so I chose the legendary Bi-Rite, for its heralded Salted Caramel.
   When visiting my brother, Austin Shirey, in New York City, he knew all the places to hit. He's conquered ice cream in the City, leaving no shop untested. So, we did it. We went hard for 5 days, eating every ice cream we came across. But two stood out among the best ice creams I have ever eaten: Milkmade (see previous blog) and the new Ample Hills Creamery in Brooklyn. I had Salted Caramel from both, and, although Milkmade's was the best I've ever had, both were "out of this world".
 
   So, having tasted and tested the best in the country, I returned home with a mission: to match them. The first flavor I made was Salted Caramel. I knew what the best tasted like, and that set the bar at a lofty level. But I'm not out to just make mediocre ice cream. It has to equal or surpass anything I've tasted, or what's the point of making my own?

   I developed my own recipe, though recipes are hardly original these days, for the Salted Caramel, measuring out what I thought to be the appropriate proportions of each ingredient. I have seen many recipes that use more milk than cream, and I think that is a cop out. I go for the thick stuff. I have also enhanced my base with an exponential increase of egg yolk addition, which has rewarded me with a much thicker, creamier, not-icy-when-frozen-for-days ice cream.

   I started the base by making the caramel. Poured the sugar into the pan on high heat. It began to melt quickly in geysers of molten sugar sprouting from the field of whiteness. Once the white darkened to a deep amber, I removed the pan from the heat and added the butter and salt. It fizzed angrily at having the cool butter encroaching on its lava pit. Stirring to melt the butter, I then replaced it over a slightly lower heat.

   Next came the heavy cream. (CAUTION: caramel is easily angered, approach with vigil and wariness). With my sword and shield, I went into battle. The pan was a pit of boiling lava from the fires of Mordor, but it was not a ring I had to cast into its smoking bowels; it was heavy cream, a much mightier foe, one equipped with a cold outer defense and a thickness unlike any other ingredient to enter the pit that day. Caution to the wind I began to pour. In a hellish uproar the caramel vomited upon encountering the cold cream, a most defying defense mechanism. But I pressed on, attacking the lava caramel with pints and pints of cream. With a chilling scream it relinquished power and gave in...
   Ok, this might have gone too far.

   Once the cream had been incorporated into the melted sugar, butter, and salt, the caramel was complete (this is where I would normally stop for a caramel sauce). To complete the base I added the milk. Due to the addition of multiple items out of the refrigerator, the temperature of the caramel had drop dramatically. I stirred it over medium heat until it resumed its simmer.
   Meanwhile the eggs, that had been previously separated (I separate the eggs before anything else is done, so that when the time comes for their addition I can just whisk them in), I whisked, then slowly poured some of the hot caramel into the bowl of yolks, whisking vigorously. After tempering the yolks, I added everything back into the pan over medium heat, stirring constantly to avoid my other dessert "salted eggs and caramel". Once it became even thicker, I set it in the fridge to chill before pouring it into my new ice cream maker.

   Ok, to keep up with demand and to improve efficiency at Shireshack, I purchased a Cuisinart ICE-50BC. Don't let the BC deter you or impede your thoughts of it. It was not before Christ. It is actually quite modern. What makes it so special is its ability to churn out batch after batch without the hindering freezer bowl. And it makes the best homemade ice cream to date. I renamed it Merlyn. It does that kind of magic.

   So here I am with my new found love Salted Caramel. When Kyle Weeks tasted it (Kyle was with me when I was in San Francisco to try Bi-Rite's famous Salted Caramel) he immediately let out a whale. Yes, a whale. Not a wail, for that would be most unmanly. And he said it was the best ice cream he has ever had. So did Jake Reynolds, and Brandon Lowe, and Phil Deaton, and...me. That's right. The guy who is on a mission to find gourmet ice creams that are truly inspiring and make one giddy like a Reynolds' boy. Well, my quest is not over, but I have found Arda.
   It was a perfect blend of saltiness with sweetness. And how often do I harp on how magical a combo these two things make? Often. It makes the world go round. Whoever decided that salt would be good in caramel was a genius, and a madman because it gets people hooked. Good.
   Caramel makes the creamiest base I have had yet in ice cream form. Every type I tried, from East to West coast, were all the creamiest flavors there. Mine was no exception. Creamiest yet. The addition of more eggs made a major impact on this, I am convinced. Texture is everything. But Taste is King. Work that out.
   Thick and creamy. Smooth and frozen. Sweet and salty. These are just a few of my favorite things...



   I will not abandon my quest for the best ice cream in the world, though I have made major progress. I may have found Arda, but Eden still awaits discovery. I hope all of you who tried it throughly enjoyed it. I enjoyed making it, and put a whole lot of passion into it.
   I am basing my flavors on seasonal themes this go around, beginning with Fall. So, more great flavors to come in the near, near future. Keep reading, keep eating, keep ice creaming.

-Reese O'Shirey, Esquire
 

                                              (homemade apple pie and salted caramel)
 

Lunch with the Milkmade

   It is not everyday that you get to visit New York City. But those days are not such a fantasy far away when one of the Shirey Brothers, Austin, our Head of Research-NYC, Special Ingredient Curator, and Head of Networking, lives there, working there full time for Shireshack and only part-time for his real job. 

   It is also not everyday that you get to meet, let alone sit down with, someone who has cracked the impermeable pages of the New York Times.



(photo by John Makely - MSNBC)



Meet Diana Hardeman. She is the founder/operator of the New York City-based ice cream biz, Milkmade. But she does not run the typical ice cream shop with white walls, colorful design schemes, freezing air, and the smell of vanilla waffle cones. In the summer of '09, Diana purchased a small ice cream maker (a Cuisinart like the one I use), and talked with local farmers and businesses about partnerships. She set up a subscription-based ice cream business, meaning you sign up for a three month subscription and receive three pints of ice cream hand-delivered to your door; she makes two different flavors for each month (flavors that reflect the season: i.e. Red Velvet Cake during February/Valentine's Day), of which you get to choose one. 

   To say it blew up would be an understatement. She currently has a waiting list of over 1,500 people in the NYC area. Unbelievable. Recession? Ice cream does not know what the word means. Nor do I.

   Although other businesses boast their "hand-crafted" ice creams, Diana is the only true claimer of this. Still, with people beating down her door to get her ice cream, she makes her flavors in small batches, and everything sourced locally and naturally. All her ice creams are rooted in creativity and nostalgia, the very two points upon which my own ice cream is based.

   One other thing that sets Milkmade apart and makes her so unique is her faithfulness to local businesses. She lives by the motto "keep it local". And this promotes partnerships and interconnected opportunities for success. She sources most of her chocolates from Mast Brothers in Brooklyn; homemade pop tarts from Pies 'n' Thighs also in Brooklyn. It is this kind of thing that unites a business community, providing everyone involved with advantages.

   Well Diana is extremely busy, what with her growing fame, meeting with people from the New York Times, local businesses, making 20 different flavors in a weekend just to test them out, and let alone crafting 150 pints a month. But she found time in her schedule to sit down over lunch with Austin and I in Hearst Tower, where Austin works for his real/not as important job.

   She began by asking us questions, probably to see where exactly we stood in terms of ice cream making and our knowledge of the art. I like to think we surprised her a bit with how well informed and well versed we are in the art and the processes there of. She did this, I think, to determine whether or not she could talk about why honey makes ice creams icier, or how to make fruit ice creams less icy. Thankfully we passed the test because we did eventually tackle those topics.

   Diana answered all of our questions without a trace of snobbishness or a you're-just-a-small-ice-cream-maker-who-doesn't-know kind of attitude. She was very helpful, and explained different techniques that I am anxious to try this fall. And what I am still most impressed with is the fact that she was willing to sit down with us for over an hour, to explain certain things that will help me in furthering my own flavors and recipies.

   We had the same view and ideas about what and how ice cream is and shoud be. It is about the ingredients. It is not a cookie-cutter recipie that can be applied to every flavor. Fruit ice creams have to be made differently than more substantial ice creams (i.e. chocolate or peanut butter). 

   She was generous enough to bring us two pints (that equallys about $34 for members): Salted Caramel with chocolate cookies and Strawberry Shortcake. The Salted Caramel was a flavor she made for a Google meeting that hired her as one of their daily chefs. Most impressive. 

   The Salted Caramel was one of the best flavors I have ever had. Last week I was in the San Francisco area, so of course I tried the local fare. I went to Bi-Rite Creamery, a nationally famous ice cream shop, and got five flavors (I couldn't leave without getting a complete experience). But what I was most interested in trying was their Salted Caramel, which is their most famous flavor and is what they are nationally known for. Milkmade's blew it away. Bi-Rite's was a bit too burnt and tasted a tad bit smokey because of it. There is a fine line between caramel and burnt caramel, and Diana found this line and now walks it, never straying into burnt caramel or undercooked caramel. She nailed it. It was the perfect blend of sweet and salty, which is one of the greatest combinations known to food. And unlike Bi-Rite, who thought their flavor was well enough on its own, Diana threw in homemade chocolate cookies for a much-needed, well-thoughtout crunch. As I always say, "A crunch in ice cream does wonders for how well it is recieved." It makes all the difference in the world.

   Oddly, I did this same thing several weeks ago before I had tried either of their flavors. With my pint of Salted Caramel from Talenti, I threw in pieces of crushed up Oreo cookies. This is essentially the same thing Diana did. Her homemade chocolate cookies were basically Oreos. A very good combo.

   As I have stated before, I am not big on fruit ice creams. I find them less satisfying than denser, more substantial ice creams like Salted Caramel or Peanut Butter. But Diana gave me something unlike any other fruit ice cream I have ever had. Her technique is simple: more fruit, more fruit, more fruit. Fruit ice creams often come out weak, but by her philosophy, that is impossible. She dumps loads of strawberries into a pot on a stove, pours in cups and cups of sugar, and cooks it down to a sweet, thick, fruit syrup, and then blends it into the cream base. She is rewarded with a deep reddish-pink ice cream that knocked my socks off. (I mean, have you ever seen strawberry ice cream with that kind of color?)

   After retrieving my socks, I dug back in. It was the densist, richist fruit flavor I have ever had (I know that phrase keeps coming up, but I can say nothing less about this ice cream). The shortbread pieces, from SCRATCHbread in Brooklyn, were like little pockets of dry, crumbly gooness that balanced out the fruity sweetness. Sure it was icier than the Salted Caramel. That is unavoidable unless a bunch of unatural things are thrown in. But I would by no means call it icy.

   After having Milkmade's ice cream, I will use it as a metric with which to compare all other ice creams to. It was super creamy. She nailed the texture, and that is crucile in this line of work.

   She is working on shipping her pints with dry ice, so if she ever stars shipping nationwide, I would highly recommend signing up. I know I will.

-Reese O'Shirey, Esq.