No. 3558

Leona Ice Cream

Glace Leona

First prepare some natural ice glasses the shape of Fig. 690. (For preparing these glasses see No. 3434.) When they are all ready put them into a freezing box until serving time. Prepare some whipped cream (No. 50) flavored with maraschino and drain it on a sieve. Make an ice with half a pound of almonds, ground a few at a time, with half a pound of sugar and a pint of water, adding two gelatine leaves dissolved in two gills of water, and a gill of vanilla syrup; strain this through a fine tammy and freeze in slightly salted ice; work well with the spatula, incorporating as much whipped cream and a salpicon of assorted fruits cut in quarter-inch squares, macerated in kirsch and drained. With this ice fill some spiral-shaped molds and pack in ice. Half an hour later, just when prepared to serve, fill the glasses with the whipped cream. Unmold the ices, lay them over the cream and on top of each place a brandied cherry or one made of almond paste (No. 125); serve at once.

← No. 3557 Lemons in Surprise Ices & Ice Creams No. 3559 Macedoine Croquettes →

For the Modern Kitchen

This is a composed dessert from Ranhofer's Delmonico's kitchen: an almond ice, lightened with whipped cream and studded with diced fruit, unmolded onto maraschino cream in a carved ice cup. The cross-references make it look harder than it is, but the base is simply almond milk sweetened, set lightly with gelatine, and churned.

The hinge: the almond milkGrinding half a pound of almonds with the sugar and pint of water, then straining through cloth, is what makes this an ice rather than a gritty paste. Grind a few at a time as directed and squeeze the cloth hard; Ranhofer gives no steeping time.
Gills and other measuresA gill is half a cup. Two gills of water for the gelatine is one cup; one gill of vanilla syrup is half a cup. The pint is a US pint, two cups.
Gelatine leavesHistoric leaf gelatine varied in size and strength, so any modern equivalent is approximate; two leaves are commonly reckoned at something like 4 g in total, in the region of two modern sheets or a teaspoon and a half of powder. Bloom it in the cold water, then warm gently to dissolve before adding. The quantity is small on purpose; it keeps the ice smooth rather than setting it firm.
TammyA tammy is a fine worsted straining cloth. A fine-mesh sieve lined with a double layer of damp cheesecloth or a nut-milk bag does the same work.
"Slightly salted ice"In a hand-cranked freezer, less salt in the ice means a slower, gentler freeze, which is why Ranhofer tells you to work it well with the spatula. In a modern machine, churn as usual; expect a softer ice than a custard base, though it does need to set firm enough in the mold to unmold.
Vanilla syrupNot the coffee-shop bottle. Ranhofer means a plain sugar syrup infused with split vanilla bean. Simmer sugar and water with a bean and cool.
Salpicon of fruitsA salpicon is a mixture cut in even small dice; here, as the recipe says, assorted fruits in quarter-inch squares. Macerate in kirsch and drain well; excess liquid will loosen the ice.
The ice glassesNo. 3434 describes cups carved and molded from blocks of natural ice, a service that depended on the commercial ice trade and a cold room to hold them. Chilled coupes or stemmed glasses, frozen for an hour beforehand, give the same effect without the sculpture.
Yield and serviceRanhofer gives no yield; the quantities make a quart or more once the whipped cream and fruit go in. Assemble at the last moment: cream in the glass, unmolded spiral ice on top, cherry above that. It slumps quickly at room temperature.

A Little History

The Epicurean (1894) is Charles Ranhofer's record of some thirty years as chef at Delmonico's in New York, and its ices section runs to hundreds of numbered variations because frozen desserts were the showpiece course of a Gilded Age dinner. The base here belongs to an older European line: almond milk, strained from pounded nuts, was the standard body for blancmange and for lait d'amandes ices long before dairy-heavy custard styles took over, and it gave a white, faintly bitter richness that cream alone does not. Names like "Leona" were assigned freely in kitchens of this scale, and Ranhofer rarely explains them. What dates the dish most sharply is the carved ice glassware: serving frozen cream inside a cup cut from a block of lake ice was only practical in a city supplied by the natural ice trade, before mechanical refrigeration displaced it.