Had he been around to witness the transformation of sorbet from royal palate cleanser to widely available dessert, French King Henry II might very well have called for someone’s head on a platter. But he needn’t have taken offense. Although his 16th-century sorbet secret had been let out of the bag and popularized in France by the late 17th century, it is one of many food inventions claimed by far-flung citizens of the globe. Some insist that the Roman Emperor Nero invented it when he ordered runners along the Appian Way to pass buckets of snow, hand over hand, from the mountains to his banquet hall, where it was then mixed with honey and wine. Meanwhile, leg/files/storyimages/has it that, centuries prior to this, the ancient Chinese poured sweetened fruit drinks over snow and ate it (presumably not with chopsticks). Traveling Chinese, in turn, showed this trick to the Persians, who passed it along to the Arabs, during a period when they weren’t bludgeoning one another to death. Finally, the sweet ice found its way, via those urbane Medicis, into France. Both the words sorbet and sherbet come from the Arab word for these concoctions, sharbab.
Whether it was served as mid-afternoon snack, palate cleanser or dessert, one thing is true: The basic components of sorbet have not changed much from the original. It is usually made of fruit puree that is mixed with a simple syrup of sugar and water. The sugar not only sweetens the mixture; it also gives the sorbet a smooth, silky texture and helps prevent it from freezing into a solid sheet of ice. While sherbet contains milk and eggs, sorbet does not. It does, however, often contain alcohol, which lowers the freezing temperature, resulting in a softer, more pliant /files/storyimages/product. Unlike with an ice cream maker, the food processor used to make the sorbet in the recipe below whips almost no air into it, resulting in a dense dessert that exceeds both ice cream and gelato in intensity of flavor.
After learning a couple of years ago that blueberries contain more cancer-fighting properties than a catalytic converter and chemotherapy combined, I felt vindicated in my long-held conviction that these little gems surpass every other fruit in the world, in every possible way. Furthermore, after learning a few months ago that pomegranates have even higher anti-oxidant properties than blueberries, a marriage between the two began to seem inevitable.
When I first tried my hand at making sorbet, I began to have the same feelings toward it that I have about most desserts: This is too much trouble. I don’t have the sweet tooth the way I have the sour, hot and salty cravings that lead me to try every method under the kitchen ceiling to re-create certain flavors I’ve experienced among the world’s many ethnic cuisines. While I might sp/files/storyimages/two and a half hours on a lamb curry, I don’t feel like waiting a mere five minutes for sugar syrup to boil, and I long ago consigned my ice cream maker to the back of a basement closet.
Nonetheless, I was committed to making a blueberry sorbet as intense and refreshing as the version of it I once had in an inn on the coast of Maine. Its color was a deep, intoxicating purple, its flavor so demanding that I wanted everyone around me to hush just so I could concentrate on it and it alone. Thus, weeks later, I stood there at my stove, stirring the sugar syrup and following the instructions to let it cool, puree it in the blender along with cups and cups of fresh blueberries, strain the whole business through a fine-mesh sieve, chill it overnight, and then place it all into an ice cream freezer for the churning process. Too much work!
But guess what? None of this turns out to be necessary. Not even the fresh blueberries. With apologies to local growers, I have to admit that the best blueberries for the purposes of making sorbet are the wild Maine blueberries available in pint-size cartons in the freezer section at Kroger. Naturally smaller and more potent, wild blueberries deliver more berries per pound — up to three times more berries than do the cultivated plants. They are quick-frozen using a process that works extraordinarily well and does not leave a bunch of ice shards hanging off the wee fruit.
In fact, a little secret many chefs do not want to part with is that, unlike with frozen vegetables, frozen fruit generally has a more vibrant flavor than fresh fruit does, and so it is used more often than you’d guess in restaurant pastries. If you don’t believe me, try making a smoothie with fresh peaches. Then make the same smoothie with flash-frozen peaches, and see which one tastes peachier. The reason for this is that the top-quality ripe fruit is chosen for the freezing process, while the rest of the stuff is sent off to ripen in trucks or in the produce section of your local grocery store.
The even better news is that in order to make a perfectly delicious sorbet, you don’t need to cook anything. I learned this little trick while listening to NPR’s The Splendid Table. By starting out with frozen fruit, you’re already halfway there. This means that even if you forgot about dessert on the day of your dinner party, you can whir up this concoction in a matter of minutes and then chill it while your guests are still working on their entrees. In fact, you can even get away with serving it immediately if you want it to be more the consistency of an Italian ice. The use of a bit of Pama (a liqueur made from pomegranates, available at local liquor stores) in place of pomegranate juice makes for a smoother, more satiny /files/storyimages/result.
Wild blueberry sorbet
1 pint of wild blueberries
3 tablespoons of sugar
The juice of ? lemon
3 tablespoons ice water
2 tablespoons Pama liqueur
? teaspoon almond extract or Frangelico liqueur
A pinch of salt
Place all of the ingredients into a food processor and puree until smooth. Taste for sweetness and balance of flavor, and adjust ingredients accordingly. Pack the mixture into martini or wine glasses and chill the glasses in the freezer for 15 minutes. Or serve immediately. Top with whipped cream and a sprig of mint. Serves four.
