Lemon

Either cantaloupe or honeydew melon makes a wonderful granita. Use the best you find at the market. Be sure to heft a few and take a sniff to find the sweetest specimen.

The best grapes to use for making this granita are bold-tasting varieties. Full-flavored dark Muscat grapes are perfect, as are Concord grapes, sometimes referred to by winemakers as tasting “foxy.” Speaking of winemakers, just about any grapes used for winemaking make excellent granita. Don’t use the common seedless grapes found in supermarkets, though, since they don’t have much flavor once cooked. The amount of water will depend on the type of grapes you use. Before adding the water, taste the mixture. Add the smaller amount of water, and then taste it again to see if it needs more.

A few years back, while I was making a chocolate dessert during a cooking demonstration, I noticed a woman sitting in the third row was watching me with what I thought was disdain. Attempting to win her over, while everyone ate their samples I asked what she thought, and she responded matter-of-factly, “I don’t really like chocolate.” So smart-aleck me shot back, “You’re probably one of those lemon people!” To which she sheepishly nodded yes. I kept on baking and finished the class. But my accusatory words “one of those lemon people” stuck in my mind, and I worried for a long time that she might have been affronted by my comment. Years later, there she was again in my audience! I was happy to see her, since experts advocate finding resolution to traumatic events in your life (like meeting someone who doesn’t like chocolate). Attempting reparation, I asked if I had offended her several years back. She was surprised that I even remembered and said that no, she wasn’t offended in the least. In fact, she even brought me a tasty gift (not chocolate…but I’m letting that go) and then slipped off into the night. So this is my gift back to her, the mysterious lemon lover, whoever and wherever you are.

Serve the delicate, rosy crystals of this granita with a pour of sparkling wine, making a rather sophisticated slushie. Or perfume it with a few drops of fragrant rosewater sprinkled over to transform it into something curiously exotic and a bit elusive.

When I was a professional baker, foodies would walk into the kitchen, look down their noses at my gorgeous flats of cultivated blueberries, and sneer, “Oh, I only like wild blueberries.” Then they’d stand there making idle chat while grabbing fistfuls of domestic blueberries and gobbling them up. Wild blueberries are indeed wonderful, but they can be hard to find (unlike annoying food snobs), so you can use any kind of blueberry here. Just don’t gobble them all up, or let anyone else do so, before you get a chance to use them.

Should you ever find yourself in Spain, withering away during the fierce heat of summer, rejuvenate with the locals at one of the many heladerías that make the country a top destination for any ice cream aficionado. I always order leche merengada, a cinnamon-and-lemon-flavored frozen meringue. To make it more invigorating, I sometimes ask for a shot of high-strength café exprés poured over.

The flavor of raspberries is so intense that they can simply be blended with milk and sugar and made into this sumptuous, full-flavored sherbet. The mixture is best frozen right after you’ve blended together the ingredients, which preserves the vivid taste of the raspberries.

Anyone who’s been to New York City in August knows that one of the best ways to cool down is by spooning up the ubiquitous Italian ice sold by pushcart vendors all over town. Unfortunately, it’s mostly disappointing and is never as good as what you can easily make at home. This sorbet captures the taste of fresh lemons better than anything you’ll find on the street.

While teaching classes in the American heartland few years back, as I started to measure out some buttermilk, I stopped and gasped, horrified to see tiny yellow flecks floating on top. Being a city slicker, I figured there was something wrong with the buttermilk and thought I’d have to toss it. But on closer inspection, I noticed that those flecks were little bits of real, honest-to-goodness butter, something you don’t see often anymore, since most buttermilk is cultured rather than a by-product of the butter-making process. The crowd got a good laugh at my startled reaction to my first encounter with real, old-fashioned buttermilk. And I promised them that I’d never dismiss the country’s midsection as “flyover states” again, since there’s very good buttermilk down there.

If you’re looking for a light, simple, lemony frozen dessert, here it is. It’s a bit more substantial than the Lemon Sorbet (above) and every bit as good.

Italians will often serve a Torta di Verdura for dessert, a cross between a cake and a tart packed with leafy greens. The first time I tried it I was unsure if I’d like it, but I found it unusually delicious and devoured the slice offered. Italian basil, which has a slight aniselike scent, provides the base for this herbaceous ice cream. This is wonderful to make in the summer when large bunches of basil are abundantly available at the market.

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.

The Belgians have their own version of gingersnaps, called speculoos (SPEC-oulooze). They’re meant to be nibbled alongside the copious amounts of beer that Belgians drink, which was one of the many lessons I learned when I went to chocolate school there, at Callebaut College. The Belgians like their beer so much that the outdoor beer gardens are busy all year long, even during the freezing cold winters. You have to brush the snow off your table to put down your glass! The good news is that you don’t have to worry about your beer getting warm. Back home, I found that speculoos go equally well when crumbled and folded into lemon ice cream, which can be consumed any time of the year.

This recipe comes from Barbara Tropp, the woman who introduced many Americans to the wonders of Chinese cooking. But she was also one of those people who was just absolutely lovely to be around in every respect. She was deservedly popular in the food community and left many great recipes behind as her legacy, including this famous lemon ice cream. It was passed on to me by Susan Loomis, a dear friend we both had in common. I made it, ate one spoonful, and immediately found another reason to love, and miss, Barbara. It’s superbly lemony and clean…and as zesty as Barbara was herself.

Surprisingly, a lot of people have never seen a fresh fig. When they do, they invariably ask, “What is that?” Indeed, a majority of the fig harvest gets dried and made into the familiar bar cookies. But fresh figs have a sweet succulence that is unmatched by their dried counterparts. A fig is ripe when the sides crack and split and a dewy drop of juice starts to ooze from the tiny hole in the bottom. Once picked, figs don’t ripen any more, so buy only figs that are dead-ripe. For best results, use Black Mission figs, which will give the ice cream a lovely deep-violet color.

When I first started to travel to France regularly, the French, when they found out I was American, would rhapsodize “J’adore le Philadelphia!” It took me a while to realize they were enthralled with our cream cheese, which is indeed worthy of international acclaim. They’ve adopted cheesecake too, calling it le gâteau fromage or simply le cheesecake.

Here is another of those very simple, very refreshing, and delicious dishes using lentils. This is a Lebanese recipe, but it could just as easily come from Greece, Turkey, or anywhere in the Middle East. Serve warm or cold with pita, feta, and olives.

This classic Greek soup is one of my favorites when I want to “lighten up” from a gustatory standpoint. It makes the perfect chicken soup substitute when you are just not feeling up to snuff, or a good light dinner when you’ve had enough of the restaurant-and-fine-dining circuit. It is traditionally made with chicken broth and small bits of chicken, but I think the meatless version yields even truer, clearer flavors. A touch of ground cumin adds yet another dimension to the flavor.

Figs have two seasons—the first figs appear in late summer and the second batch shows up around mid-autumn. If you miss the first one, not to worry—the second is usually more prolific and the figs are even tastier. Don’t be put off by fresh figs with skins that are split and syrupy; those are the ones that taste the best. For jam making, I like black Mission figs, which are the most common variety, but this recipe will work with others as well. Figs are high in natural sugar, which means that the jam cooks relatively quickly.

Thin strips of soft-candied citrus peel enliven the flavor of desserts and look beautiful as garnishes for cakes, fruit compotes, sherbets, custards, and, especially, Champagne Gelée (page 114). Although it’s convenient to have a jar on hand to use on a whim, they’re quick and easy to make.