Blender

Rafael Gonzalez, a Cuban sous-chef at Jean Georges, thought I was prejudiced against Cuban flavor combinations. To prove him wrong, I made this ice cream to pair with Coconut Pain Perdu (page 127) and Papaya-Lime Compote (page 251). It’s got that faintly sour edge of cream cheese, which never seems to overpower other flavors, and a great mouthfeel.

The first thing I do when I feel a sore throat coming on is make some hot honey and ginger tea. And the more I thought about those flavors, the more I thought they would make a great ice cream. They do.

One bite of this ice cream, and you’re transported to a beach in the Caribbean.

Use this technique to make infused oils with any soft herbs, such as tarragon, basil, and mint. I use herb oil as a garnish whenever I want an intense, concentrated herb flavor in a dessert. Think about serving strawberries and ice cream with a drizzle of black peppermint oil. Or drizzle some tarragon oil on a salad of tender lettuce and shrimp.

I’ve always liked the classic combination of chocolate and coffee and have been searching for a unique way to pair the two. In this dessert, the custard is dense and rich, so I wanted the coffee to be light. By using lecithin, I can turn coffee into a cloud.

I’ve always wanted to create some interesting chocolate texture to pair with strawberries, and one night during a brainstorming session, Michal Shelkowitz—one of my cooks—suggested spaetzle. After much manipulation, we figured out how to make it something great and new and a cool contrast to the berries.

Industrial technology is making its way more and more into the pastry kitchen and allowing us to create new textures. Here, the “doughnuts” are made with a creamy ganache. The alginate and lactate work to maintain the shape of the doughnuts, and the Methocel prevents the ganache from running while they fry. The result is a warm creamy ganache encased in a super-crisp panko coating. Having a scale is essential for this recipe.

I’ve been exploring new ways to make chocolate soups. In particular, I wanted to find a way to remove the fat and keep a full, deep chocolate flavor, and I thought it would be interesting to contrast cold white chocolate with warm dark chocolate. I’ve succeeded in this recipe, which is a play on temperatures, textures, and techniques. A scale is essential for this recipe. You will also need a hotel pan and a perforated hotel pan, both half size. You can get these online from BigTray. The technique of clarifying the soup base by freezing and slow defrosting comes from Wylie Dufresne of wd-50 in Manhattan and Heston Blumenthal of The Fat Duck in England.

Growing up, the one thing I wanted when I went to the movies was a box of Whoppers, those malted milk balls. When I was looking around for a flavor to add to a chocolate rice pudding, I remembered that taste.

Working in a restaurant affords me the opportunity to learn the food cultures of many of my colleagues, who often bring home cooking to share for lunch. When that home cooking is Mexican, the dishes are sometimes flavored with chipotles or another chile, and I’ve come to crave that little kiss of heat, even in dessert. The gentle kick in the chocolate soup is tamed by the soothing chocolate-coconut foam.

I like eating breakfast in the middle of the day and even for dinner, so why not turn a breakfast dish into dessert? This version of French toast is highlighted by seasonal exotic fruits—the acidity of papaya and lime taming the sweetness of the coconut.

I enjoy going out for Indian food and pairing a cool, calming lhassi with a heavily spiced meal. The more I thought about it, the more I wanted to develop one for my dessert menu. This one—which I worked out with my friend and onetime sous-chef Jason Casey—is creamy smooth and softly perfumed with rose water and cinnamon.

Chocolate and lemon make an age-old combination; the tartness of lemon enhances the acidity of the cacao bean and cuts the fatty mouth feel. Meyer lemons have a short window of availability, and they’re coveted for their lemony-orangey flavor—which is particularly good when paired with chocolate. They’re versatile, with as many uses in the savory kitchen as in the pastry kitchen.

This dessert is a delicate balancing act showcasing the diversity of citrus. Each element supplies a different taste and texture: the creamy ice cream, the chewy grapefruit, the crispy sticks, and the airy curd.

The origin of this dessert is Tarte Vaudoise, a traditional European pastry. I’ve replaced the original heavy cream with crème fraîche and added different nut textures. It may look simple on the plate, but it’s complex in flavor.

We had Concords growing in the backyard when I was a kid, but I didn’t like them. They were just too strong for my young palate. But I came to love this flavor and now I wait all year for the grapes to be in season so I can make this sorbet. It’s my favorite thing to do with Concords. I always serve this sorbet on its own—pure and simple.

Here, I’ve created my version of sweet potato pie, but it’s not as heavy and not as sweet. The cranberry foam gives a nice added pop of acidity.

I’ve always considered corn a borderline fruit, so why not incorporate it into the pastry menu? Here I pair it with buttery Madeleine Sponge Cake, my adaptation of the classic seashell cake, with a shatteringly crisp sugar crust. And I pile on the garnishes: kettle corn and freeze-dried corn bring their own special crunch to the dessert, and they’re easy because you can find them readymade in good grocery stores. I use plastic tubes that I’ve had cut to my specifications when I make this panna cotta at the restaurant. You can, too, if you have access to a plastic supply shop; the tubes I use have a 1-inch diameter, and they’re 18 inches long. But you can also make the panna cotta in cannoli forms or muffin tins (see Make It Simpler).

When I go to the farmers’ markets in summer and see all the bounty, I start asking myself, “What can work with what?” and “What would balance that fruit?” Apricots and peppermint are both refreshing flavors. In this dessert, the mint livens the apricot, providing an herbal contrast to the natural sweetness of the fruit.

This is a riff on Jean-Georges’s grandmother’s rhubarb tart. It’s not her recipe for the pastry or the streusel, but the notion of macerating the rhubarb before baking and adding the flan came from her. Mustard may not be a traditional ingredient for desserts, but it adds a definite edge to the jam and it’s my nod to Alsace, from where Jean-Georges hails. You’ll have leftover jam. Try pairing it with cheese or with a sizzling steak.