I'd love to
write a post about gelato. I adore
gelato, and I made of point of trying as many new kinds as I could this past
month. Green apple gelato is lovely, as
is melon (limone—meh). Nociolla (hazelnut) still reigns
supreme.
I took
many, many pictures of gelateria, wherever I found them, which was basically
everywhere. But, alas, I will not try to
make my own gelato. I'm sure it's
possible, but I'd rather let the experts do it and cherish the memories.
But! At the
Tuscan villa where we stayed for the first part of our trip, I met my first panna cotta.
I've heard
the term before, but if I ever looked at a recipe, I was probably put off
because it includes gelatin. I don't do
gelatin. I know, it's kind of odd since
I grew up with Jell-O, in all its glory. (And Junket Rennet Custard, which
still makes me gag—what was up with that?) I guess I'd have to say that when I
hear "gelatin" I think of chewy rubbery glop.
Luckily the
dessert that appeared before us at the villa did not have a name attached. It was a pure white half-sphere, garnished
with fresh berries. It was light and
airy and sweet, the just the right size to finish the meal. It was only after everyone had inhaled it
that the term was whispered, ah panna
cotta…
It's easy
to make. It matches well with everything—fruit,
chocolate, caramel. And it can be made
ahead of time if you're entertaining, and you can dress it up to look
pretty. It may be the perfect dessert,
particularly in summer. After gelato, of
course.
Buttermilk
Panna Cotta
1 1/2 tsp
unflavored gelatin*
3/4 cup
heavy cream
1/3 cup
sugar
1 1/2 cups
buttermilk
1 tsp
vanilla
In a small
bowl, dissolve the gelatin in 1 1/2 Tblsp water (room temperature). Let it stand until the gelatin softens (it
will swell up as it absorbs the water), a few minutes.
In a small,
heavy saucepan, combine the cream and the sugar. Stir over medium-high heat until the sugar
dissolves and the mixture barely begins to simmer (do not boil!). Remove the pan from the heat and stir in the
gelatin. Let the mixture cool, stirring
occasionally, until it is just warm.
Stir in the buttermilk and the vanilla.
Pour into six half-cup ramekins or molds (note: the size of the container is not critical,
nor is the material, although it is easier to unmold them from a metal mold).
Cover and
refrigerate until set, at least four hours.
Longer, even overnight, won't hurt.
 |
| I was experimenting with different molds |
When you're
ready to serve, run a sharp thin knife around the edges of the molds and invert
them over a plate (in a perfect world they will pop out neatly). Garnish with whatever you like.
*I found
this lovely little measuring device at the book/cookware story Salt &
Pepper, recently located in Occaquan VA, now in National Harbor MD (near
Alexandria VA). It will measure in any
number of units, wet or dry, and it's convenient for odd amounts. For example, the gelatin required for this
dish was more than one packet but less than two, but I had the answer in hand!
