Base:
- ¾ cup (180 g) unsweetened almond butter
- ¾ cup + 2 Tablespoons (180 g) granulated sugar
- 2¾ cups (660 g) half & half, or even better, unsweetened almond milk, which would make this into a vegan sorbet and intensify the almond flavor
- Pinch of kosher or coarse sea salt
- ½ teaspoon almond extract
Rhubarb Compote:
- 3-4 large stalks of rhubarb, cleaned
- An equal amount, by weight, of sugar. (If you don’t weigh your ingredients, wait until you’ve chopped the rhubarb, then measure out an equal amount by volume.)
- Juice of half a lemon
In a blender, combine all the ice cream base ingredients. Maybe add the almond butter last, so it doesn’t gum up the blades of your blender. Blend — slowly at first, then more vigorously — for several minutes. Put the blender jar in your refrigerator to chill for several hours or overnight. (If you don’t have an ice cream maker, pour the base into a zip-lock bag and lay it flat in your freezer to freeze solid.)
Cut each rhubarb stalk in half, length-wise, then chop it into small pieces. This is what chefs call a “fine dice.” I would feel a little self-conscious about using a snooty phrase like that, except for one thing. If my wife walks into the kitchen while I’m chopping rhubarb, I can ask her if she’s impressed by my fine dice. She usually just rolls her eyes.
Put the finely diced rhubarb in a bowl and then into your freezer — again, for several hours or overnight. The idea here is that ice crystals will form and poke holes in all the cell walls, making the rhubarb easier to cook down.
When the rhubarb has frozen completely, measure it or weigh it into a saucepan with an equal amount of sugar. Cook over medium heat, stirring occasionally, until it gives up its liquid and comes to a boil. Stir it thoroughly, to make certain that all the sugar has dissolved into solution, then remove from heat, and set aside. Stir in the lemon juice, then strain through a fine-mesh strainer. Set the rhubarb syrup aside for cocktails.
Stir your cold ice cream base, then pour it into your ice cream maker, and churn it according to the manufacturer’s instructions. If you don’t have an ice cream maker, cut your frozen ice cream base into ice-cube-sized chunks, and break them down in your blender or food processor. You will end up with soft-serve-consistency ice cream, very similar to what you would get from an ice cream maker.
Spoon the ice cream into freezing containers, alternating layers with the rhubarb compote you just made. You’re looking for a ratio of about 60 percent ice cream to 40 percent rhubarb. Store in your freezer for several hours to harden up. You can buy cardboard ice cream containers online, but one-pint plastic takeout containers work well, too.
Everyone knows that rhubarb goes well with strawberries; the sweetness of the fruit plays off the tartness of the rhubarb. A little less well-known is that rhubarb is very good friends with almonds. Nobody else seems to agree with me on this, but I’ve always thought almonds in sweet applications taste like maraschino cherries, which plays off the rhubarb just as well. Because the subtler flavors of the rhubarb can be overwhelmed by the intensely marzipan flavor of the ice cream, it’s a good idea to put more than just a ripple of it in this ice cream.
You know in old movies and TV shows, when someone gets a big reaction out of a crowd? “The real murderer is in this courtroom right now!” — that sort of thing? The excited murmuring of the crowd in the background is called “rhubarbing.” In the old days, the extras would just repeat the word “rhubarb” to each other. If they just lip-synched, it looked weird on film, but if they actually spoke real sentences, it would distract viewers from what the main characters were trying to say.
I mention this because when you serve this ice cream at a dinner party or picnic — “And tonight’s ice cream is — RHUBARB!” — this is the reaction you will get from your guests.
Featured Photo: Marzipan Rhubarb Ice Cream. Photo by John Fladd.