Basil Strawberry Ice Cream

Sometimes inspiration this gorgeous leads to the sublime. But not this time.

I blame the farmer’s market.

The strawberries there were gorgeous: deep red and perfect and as sweet as cherubs rolled in powdered sugar. And they were right next to some kick-ass basil. They looked so pretty together and it sounded so good. What could possibly go wrong?

Quite a bit, as it turned out.

Strawberry and basil are flavors that should go great together. And after spending a little time with Mr. Google I found that people had even put them together in ice cream. Sold.

The recipes I found for strawberry basil ice cream were actually strawberry ice cream infused with a bit of basil. But I also saw plain old basil ice cream recipes, and thought, why not something like basil ice cream with delicious strawberry preserves rippled through it? Sounds awesome, right?

Macerated strawberries. This shit was utterly delicious.

I chopped up all my strawberries and macerated them in lemon juice and sugar, then cooked them down until their juices had thickened. I’m not going to lie - those berries rocked my world. Too bad I had to go and ruin them with the fucking basil ice cream.

So where did it all go wrong?

The basil ice cream, obviously, which had two big problems. 1. There was too much basil. Period. 2. The texture was all wrong. Little bits of basil acted as niduses for fat to cling to and became tiny fatty bitter-bombs that made my tongue feel like I had licked a rubber garden clog.

First, let’s talk about problem #1. Typical ice cream proportions are 3 cups of liquid (some combination of milk/cream) to 5 or 6 egg yolks. To this base, I saw people using very different amounts of basil: 3 tablespoons chopped fresh basil leaves; 1/2 cup chopped fresh basil leaves; 1 1/2 ounces basil leaves; 1 cup basil leaves; 30 grams basil leaves; 12 basil leaves; 2 cups (!!!!) basil leaves. Lightly packed measures, tightly packed…oh such diversity of opinion on the subject. Thanks for fucking nothing, Google.

Bygones. I had a decision to make. Eenie, meenie, minie… 1 1/2 ounces.

A couple of recipes added lemon zest, which seems like a great add to both basil and strawberry. One recipe even utilized an oleo-saccharum - wherein you zest the lemon right into the sugar and toss it around to draw out the oils. Great idea, so this is where I started, adding the basil leaves to the sugar and chopping it all together in a food processor. This is where the texture started to go all fucky: tiny bits of basil that were big enough to cause problems and small enough to get through my fine-mesh strainer.

Do you remember that science experiment as a kid where you use a seed crystal to grow a bigger crystal? Think of these tiny bits of basil as the seed crystals for bigger crystals that taste like gardening footwear.

I took this lemon-basil sugar and added it to the cream and milk, heating and whisking as per my usual ice cream technique. Yes, it was pretty speckled, but I wasn’t worried yet.

Basil custard, pre-straining.

Then I strained it. Tiny bits of basil remained. No biggie, I thought.

I chilled it, then poured into my ice cream maker, and then this happened:

This was a WTF moment. Check out that texture.

Grainy looking ice cream. Hmm. I tasted it. Those grains weren’t ice crystals. They were fat crystals, and in a bad way. Mouth-coating and bitter. I should have stopped there and done macerated strawberry shots. Or vodka shots. Or both. But I forged ahead, mostly because I still wanted to figure out how to make a ripple type ice cream and it was still morning and vodka shots might be considered inappropriate in some circles. Not the circles I frequent, but still.

Is it just me or does the ice cream look like Play Doh?

I layered ice cream, berries, ice cream, berries, and a last layer of ice cream for good measure. After a little time in the freezer, I scooped and served.

The good news: the ripple thing worked, and it wasn’t horrible looking. Visible bits of basil, but less grainy-looking than before.

The bad news: it tasted like a garden clog… albeit, one rippled with delicious strawberries.

It will be a while before I attempt this basil-strawberry-ripple jazz again. I think it would be prudent to master plain basil ice cream first, nailing down the right amount of basil to use. Which will be a fuck-ton less than I used here. I will also use whole blanched leaves next time, steeping them in the cream and then straining, so as to avoid the aforementioned fucky texture.

And maybe one of those basil-infused strawberry ice creams I found in my recipe search will scratch that basil-strawberry itch. Though to be honest, that spot ain’t too itchy after this experience.

You win some, you lose some.

Bygones.