5 Ingredients or Fewer

I’m sure it would be nice to summer in the Hamptons or spend weekends bronzing poolside on the rooftop of a trendy hotel in Manhattan, but the fact is there’s baking to be done. To banish the summertime blues, we at the bakery take turns whipping up our own interpretations of the classic vanilla shake. Use the recipe below as the basis for your own adventures in milk shake mixology. My favorite rendition came about when Kylie, part of the bakery’s prized counter staff, added a piece of chocolate crumb to the mix and created the most amazing brownie shake in the history of frozen beverages. (Thanks, Kylie!) You can do her one better by adding chocolate chip cookies, fresh mint, or—gasp!—a slice of apple pie.

Until the newest wave of mega-size frozen yogurt franchises catch on to the fact that even those of us who can’t have dairy would still like a frosty, probiotic-packed soft-serve now and then, we’ll just have to make do. And by “making do” I mean blending a chilled masterpiece that will have all the teenyboppers banging down your door for a taste. Tell them to take a number.

Inspired by my daily “free lemonade” that I used to make at the old KFC in grade school, here’s a recipe so simple and refreshing that you’ll be shocked there are only four ingredients!

By fifth grade, I’d taken to pocketing my lunch money and starving through the day so I could afford to spend the afternoons in the air-conditioned luxury of the local KFC and postpone the sweltering walk home. I’d buy a biscuit, fashion a “free” lemonade (1 cup ice water, 2 packets lemon juice, 27 or so sugar packets), swing my Capezios up onto the banquette of a comfy booth, and bask in my own genius. I don’t know that the eventual walk was any better, but I do know I started a trend among other ponytailed rebels. With the biscuit bar set pretty high and KFC no longer an option or a preference, I assigned myself the challenge of bettering it with my allergy-friendly pantry. It’s not uncommon these days for people to taste the biscuits at BabyCakes NYC and say, “These are better than KFC!”—and when they do, I execute a victory pirouette and shotgun a frosty glass of agave lemonade (page 133).

When you tame the slight acidity of raspberries with the natural sweetness of beets, you come up with a flavor profile like none other. In addition to serving this sauce with Chocolate-Beet Cake (page 29), you could use it as the start of a trifle. Try one with crumbled Chocolate Meringues (page 209) and fresh berries and unsweetened whipped cream, maybe with a layer of Strawberry Sorbet (page 236). You could also serve this sauce with yogurt and granola.

Sure you can spoon this sauce over ice cream, but you can also make it to serve with waffles or pancakes. Or even as a dip for toasted Brioche (page 194).

I’d serve this sauce with any sweet cake, like toffee pudding, or use it as a topping for a summer sundae.

The clean, refreshing note of black peppermint always says summer to me. Churn this sauce in an ice cream maker and you’ll have a great peppermint ice cream.

This building block in the pastry kitchen can’t really stand on its own, yet so many desserts depend on it. Use this intense sauce as a layer in a parfait, as a chocolate fondue, as plate decoration, and—of course—on ice cream.

Using the newer technologies that are available in the kitchen, we’re now able to create textures without diluting the flavor of the prime ingredient. The Methocel in this recipe turns tangerine juice—or any juice—into an airy foam that I pipe into sticks and then dehydrate to make the sticks crisp. These are great as a garnish for ice cream, as well as being an integral part of the Lemongrass Ice Cream dessert on page 115.

I think aromatic kumquats walk a line between oranges and lemons, and they aren’t bitter at all when you cook them properly. You could chop these up and bake them in a sponge cake, or fold them into a mousse that could use a shot of acidity. Fill them with soft cheese or mousse and put them out after dinner as petits fours. Or just serve with ice cream.

I candy Etrog citrons in the restaurant, but I’ve adapted the recipe for good old lemons. You could chop this up and fold it into whipped cream. Or serve over ice cream.

There are so many uses for this preserve, which captures the zing of the citrus. Chop it up and use it as a garnish for sweet sorbets or as a marmalade on buttered Brioche (page 194). Or wrap a strawberry or a piece of melon with a slice of this lemon, stick a toothpick through it, and you’ve got a fruit canapé. I’m not giving a yield or amounts here, because you can make as much of this classic preserve as you wish. If they’re in season, Meyer lemons are what you want.

These days, I like to carbonate my curds (see page 134, for example), but you could serve this one, with its mix of lemon, lime, and orange, as is, spooned over berries or over sorbet, or both.

use this as a garnish for Chocolate-Pear Cake (page 98), but it would be delicious in the bottom of a glass of champagne.

This brightly flavored jelly would make a delicious layer in a birthday cake. Pour it into the cake pan you’re using for the cake and let it set.

This is one of the first desserts I learned from François Payard. It’s complex in flavor yet simple in ingredients and technique. Put it in the freezer for a while until it’s so cold that it’s slushy, and serve it with assorted tropical fruits.

I developed this jam for Cherry-Chocolate Linzer Tarts (page 76), but it’s great on fresh Brioche (page 194) that’s been slathered with butter.

I love the burst of flavor when I combine this compote with Cream Cheese Ice Cream (page 223), but you could also put it out for brunch, with bagels and cream cheese and smoked salmon, to bring that acidic tang you’d usually get from a ripe summer tomato.

This simple preparation replaces the bitterness of raw rhubarb with the musty richness of port while maintaining a special crispness in flavor. You could put this out with cheese. Or pair it with Pink Peppercorn Meringues (page 38), fresh berries, ice cream, and whipped cream for a deconstructed vacherin.