week 27 - Ice Cream Book - Humphry Slocombe

2020: another week; another ecancelled event; this time Wimbledon. And, although I wouldn't have been queuing in my tent in SW19 to sit on Henman Hill, there's nothing like getting home from work and watching several hours of sweaty sportsmen while sipping Pimms in your pants. To be fair, I don't need the tennis on TV to do that, but you get my point.

While there might not have been any sport to watch, there were still strawberries to eat. Apparently approximately 27,000 kilos of strawberries are eaten during the Wimbledon Championships, together with 7,000 litres of cream - with many English strawberries grown specifically to be perfectly ripe for those two weeks at the end of June. And I didn't want any to go to waste.

Ie cream may not be the first strawberry desert I would normally think of, and it appears that San Francisco-based frozen desert specalists Humphry Slocombe - whose shop we visited on our honeymoon, many moons ago -  feel the same. Demonstated by the fact heir plain strawberry ice cream is named 'here's your damn strawberry ice cream' and only was only offered for sale in their shop on one occasion, when they had leftovers after making sundaes for SF Pride.

While the original recipe has made it into their book, they also offer two alternative, and far jazzier, versions. One with candied black olives and one with candied jalapenos. Although the recipe includes a method to to candy your own chillies I had picked up a jar from our local farmer's market (our favourite place to hang on a Saturday during a pandemic) made locally by the Salsa King. Sweet but with a decent capsaicin kick.

Unlike the majority of their recipes this is a no cook, no trouble method that uses simply pureed fruit, double cream and condensed milk The sweetness balanced, like a good fish supper, with a touch of salt and vinegar. It also tastes of berries, rather than the odd chemicals that strawberry ice cream often tastes of.

By pureeing the fruit, as per the recipe, you won't get the mottled appearance of the ice cream in the book, but the chunks of candied chilli add a little extra colour that stops the churning mixture appear quite as disturbing similar to the pink goo that, according to urban legend, McDonald's chicken nuggets are made from. 

Best enjoyed heaped in a sugar cone while reclining under a parasol, licking rivulets of melted ice cream as they drip down your wrists in the heat. Or, if you're in England, inside with your nose pressed against the window, dreaming of sunnier afternoons while waiting for the drizzle to stop.

Here’s Your Damn Strawberry Ice Cream with candied jalapenos

Adapted from the Humphry Slocombe Ice Cream Book

500g fresh ripe strawberries, hulled and halved

1 1/2 cups double cream 

1/2 cup whole milk

1/2 cup sweetened condensed milk

3/4 cup granulated sugar

1 tsp salt

1 tbsp red wine vinegar

1 tbsp chopped candied jalapenos

Place the strawberries in a blender or food processor and process to a smooth puree. Strain into a bowl using a fine mesh strainer to remove the seeds (you can also leave it unstrained, but your strawberry ice cream won't be as smooth).

Once the strawberry puree has been strained into the bowl, add the double cream, milk, condensed milk, sugar, salt, and red wine vinegar and whisk together until the sugar has dissolved. 

Place the mixture in the fridge for at least an hour, or until throughout chilled (this helps the ice creamy freeze quicker when churning, giving a better texture).

Transfer the chilled mixture to an ice cream maker and spin according to the manufacturer's instructions. 

Just before the ice cream is ready, add the pickled jalepenos and stir through thoroughly.

Eat immediately, or transfer into an airtight container and place in the freezer until fully frozen if you prefer a firmer texture.

Prawns, Steak and Strawberries

Prawns steak and strawberries; a disparate selection of ingredients that sounds like the reply if you make the mistake of asking a five year old what they want for dinner - I still fondly remember my best friend from primary school answering 'smoked salmon' when his mum asked him what he'd like in his daily sandwiches. He was descended from a prime minister, so clearly he had refined tastes.

Lunchboxes aside, I'm still no clearer on the rationale behind the spring set menu being advertised for at the Kings Arms in Christchurch, or even if there was one. But if the combination sounds incongruous, these remain some of my favourite ingredients and my inner-five year old was very excited.

I have eaten at the the restaurant, found in an imposing Georgian building in the centre of the town, before. Although that occasion - with a large group of friends, well lubricated with plenty of wine - ended up with a wedding being crashed, some impromptu magic with a bowl of sugar cubes and an unfortunate incident with a frying pan.

This time was far more staid; a quiet weekday afternoon with just me and the wife and a couple of other tables occupied by ladies wot lunch. We didn't completely pass up on the vino though - cunningly picking a large glass of rose each, to pair with both the seafood and beef and to usher in the beginnings of summer, where having a chilled pink drink in hand in the middle of the day is pretty much the rules.

My starter was the Poole Bay shrimps, described succinctly as 'small prawns with toast'. Like their more famous cousins from Morecambe, these were sweet little commas of crustacean served bathed with their sweet herby juices on hot buttered toast. A simple plate of food that sung through the quality of the local ingredients.

The 'light vegetable crab and ginger and broth with spiced prawn dumplings' was more like the gloopy chicken and sweetcorn soup that comes as part of the meal for one at every old school chinese takeaway - which is no bad thing in my book. It was also mined through with a generous helping of springy little seafood stuffed dumplings. A solid start.

Bavette is one of my favourite cuts of steak although, as Rowley Leigh so succinctly put it, it turns to sisal carpet if overcooked. Here, although it was advertised as being served rare, someone hadn't read to the script and it was pushing past medium when it arrived. No matter, it was a decent piece of meat, served bathed in an even better sauce infused with garlic and thyme.

Unlike the steak, the chips were verging on underdone, although they were just on the right side of pale and interesting and were compared, favourably, to Maccy D's by the Ewing, a connoisseur in such matters. And, although not up to the standards of breadcrumbed onion rings and sauteed mushrooms my mum used to make to go with a steak, the classic watercress and grilled tomato garni were good.

A classic pairing in America, strawberry and rhubarb is still pretty novel combination on these shores. While I can see its potential - sweet berries complimenting the sour rhizomes - here my crumble filling was sadly wan and watery. Thankfully, the dish was redeemed by the crisp, crunchy topping and a masterful strawberry-infused custard, like a kind of grown up angel delight, which I was happy to just spoon from the jug.

Having been spoilt for mille feuille after visiting Jacques Genin in France earlier this year, this strawberry and cream version was always going to have a lot to live up to. And whilst it couldn't scale the dizzy heights of the Parisian pastry master, it was a more than passable effort with commendably flaky pastry, good creme pat and plenty of strawberry sauce.

And yes, while it probably wasn't as much fun without the jaeger bombs and the smuggled boxes of exploding fun snaps, what in life is, and at least I could still remember it the next morning.

You can also catch the menu, alongside the complimentary glass of fizz, during the Christchurch Festival - from 1st to 21st May - at the Christchurch Harbour Hotel. Although the last time we were in town, for the Festival Street Market, I was very happy lazing in the sun with a couple of pints of raspberry cider and a curried lamb pasty.