This story has nothing and yet everything to do with roasted strawberry milkshakes. Regardless, I’m going to tell it if for the only reason that I can’t get it out of my head until I get it onto paper (or the screen as the case may be).

Gabe and I sat down to a simple meal – a sort of unintended date night. The kids were already in bed and we hadn’t eaten yet, so I stumbled into the kitchen to make us some dinner.

At the edge of the table I set out a cloth napkin and placed the hot cast iron skillet on top. In it tomatoes danced around long-simmered poblano peppers and onions with a few just-set eggs in the middle of it all. Next to the skillet I laid out some homemade bread – too dense, too wheaty and yet, homemade so it really wasn’t too bad.

Our plates sat by the hot pan and I lifted my phone above the scene just enough so that the bread, the skillet and our plates were in view. As I studied the image I noticed that a few random papers made their way into the corner of the frame. I pushed them just out of view and tried for another shot. This time a few of our computer cables cluttered the top right of the image and I shoved them aside and tried again.

Three-quarters of our table was a mess of papers, books, spiderman coloring pages, hello kitty stickers, coffee cups and clumps of oatmeal from the morning. I opted to only shoot the last quarter of our table that showed a simple, yet beautiful meal. I paused that moment which showed two people about to sit down together, after a long day, to enjoy dinner and one another.

For some reason this scene grabbed my attention. For a moment I asked myself, am I being deceitful? It’s not really the whole picture. The reality is the table was a disaster and we were relegated to a fraction of it, tucked deep into the corner because the mess from the day still showed.

But then an even louder voice shuddered the shame and told me, this is what it looks like to have eyes for joy. To be able to focus on the fraction that isn’t messy, that shows beauty and truth and a gift rather than concentrate on the mess.

I hold Ivy tightly on the couch, our legs intertwined. She nestles into my chest as if she’s a part of me. I alternate between kissing the top of her head and smelling it. Breathing in the moment, I count it as joy.

Baron’s words move faster than I can listen as he spouts of the plan for his clan in his new favorite game, Clash of Clans. He’s bursting to boast of his scheme and we listen intently not because we’re so thrilled by his stockpile of gold but because he’s so happy. I squeeze his cheeks together so his lips pucker and his eyes squish against the weight of my hands just as they did when I squished his baby cheeks together. I kiss him regardless of disgusted groans. His smirk doesn’t hide the fact that he still loves my squeezes. This moment is joy.

Gabe came home from the grocery store and before he even made it into the kitchen I could smell the sweet earthy scent radiating from the flat of strawberries he brought home. The kids and I eagerly descended upon the box and immediately stained our fingers with their sweet and vibrant juice. One bite and I had visions of ducking into the rows of berries to pick pounds and pounds to get us through the winter. That taste, so simple and familiar, is joy.

These moments are tucked in between the spilled milk, a relentless pile of laundry, a sink full of dirty dishes, bandaging a scraped knee and a word that falls painfully on my heart. I can choose to go through my day and see only the things that need to be done and the things that I’m not doing but I want a life that recognizes the spurts and bursts of joy that interject our days. I want to laugh as infectiously as the Car Talk brothers and be the source of someone else’s smile. I want to hold my kids tight in this moment not longing for the past or fretting about what’s next but enjoying this moment. I want to sit at the end of a table with my husband and talk to him about his day while ignoring the mess on the other side. I want to pause in the middle of drinking my milkshake and take in its sweetness and soft vanilla scent wading through the pink straw and recognize it for the gift it really is.

I’m still new at this. It is a habit I’m developing. When I’m present to my day even the laundry pile is a reminder of how fortunate we are. The scraped knee is a reminder to be thankful for our bodies that move, grow and heal. It’s not some sort of sappy, false happiness, it’s much greater than that. It’s so much easier for me to let things pile on and feel burdened and distraught but what a better way to live – to present to the joy and recognize its presence all around.

Roasted Strawberry Milkshake

Roasted Strawberries

A hot oven never ceases to amaze me. I sit in awe in front of the oven window watching butter, flour and water turn into flaky pastry and now I’ve turned to the oven to transform fresh berries into a sweet, tart and jammy mix that makes a simple strawberry milkshake into something pretty damn magical.

All of this is very adaptable. Add sugar or not, add more berries or less, add a shot of liqueur or leave it out.

8 cups halved strawberries

1/4 – 1/3 cup sugar

1 vanilla bean, split and seeds removed

Preheat your oven to 375 degrees F.

Place strawberries on a parchment lined sheet tray and sprinkle with sugar. Toss the strawberries with the sugar and vanilla seeds and place the vanilla bean on the tray with the berries too.

Roast for 30-40 minutes until some of the edges of the strawberries have crisped, the berries have softened and a pool of ruby red juice covers the pan.

For the milkshake:

Place a good amount, about a pint, of vanilla ice cream into a blender or food processor along with a cup, or so, of cooled roasted berries and their juice. Blend or pulse until smooth.

Pour into cups and serve with whipped cream.

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We sunk into the couch letting the cushions hug us as we sorted through the day and set out to recover from it. It was pretty typical aside from the Sharpie all over the carpet and the ipad getting peed on, but even typical days need a bit of recovery and a moment to breathe it in and then let it go.

Gabe and I laughed away the day and wondered how one goes about getting pee off of an ipad. We talked about getting new carpet or rearranging the room to cover up our 2 year old’s Sharpie rampage. “Or we could just put a frame over it and call it art.” I said as Gabe went into the kitchen and pulled out two bottles from the fridge.

“Champagne or beer?” He asked.

“Let’s go with beer.” I said, already anticipating the skunky farmhouse ale and knowing that I’d just drink the bottle of champagne with a friend the next night.

Regardless of what had happened earlier in the day, tonight we were celebrating.

And this is where I don’t know how to write this. Which is weird because I’ve been writing this post in my head for over three years and now that it is finally time I’m getting all sweaty, nervous and way too excited to put words to a page. But I’ll try; with a big green bottle of my favorite Saison, a bag of Juanita’s tortilla chips and an ice cream cake waiting for us in the freezer we toasted to our book. The one I’m writing. An actual tangible book that will be held in people’s hands (hopefully all of your hands!), in their kitchen, curled up with them on the couch and in bed. People will be reading my words, cooking from my recipes and drooling over my photos printed on paper. I can’t get over this. It will be published by Running Press and edited by Kristen Green Wiewora who also recently edited, Homemade with Love: Simple Scratch Cooking from In Jennie’s Kitchen. Which is stunning, by the way.

A date night seemed the perfect way for us to celebrate because the book is our date nights. It is our story of nourishing our relationship and the food that connects us. I could not to be happier that this is the book I’m writing. It is of course a subject that I’m incredibly passionate about – well, two subjects – my husband and food. This book is an extension of the series I started on this site called, Dating My Husband. These posts are often my favorite to write and always the best to read your comments and emails in response to. How you all have reacted to these posts is a huge reason why I’m writing this book. So many of you have opened yourself up to me telling me about your own struggles in your relationships and have encouraged me by saying how much these date nights have changed your relationships.

Gabe and I have been dating at home for several years now and although at times it’s tough to fight through the exhaustion when all I really want is someone else to cook for me (sometimes there’s takeout date nights and that’s great too) we are so encouraged by what these evenings have meant for our marriage. Over time they’ve gotten easier, we’ve learned to love the comfort of our own home and enjoy the quiet hours in the late evening. I’ve stretched myself in the kitchen, trying new things in order to make these meals feel a bit different from our everyday. Now I find myself longing for our date nights at home, looking forward to them all week and eagerly working on the menu days in advance.

Our book is 25 dates set up seasonally with each having its own menu and a helpful plan to make creating this menu simple, even if you have a full-time job and children underfoot. Each date begins with the story from our date where I open up to you about our marriage – the joys, the trials and the work it takes to make it thrive. It’s an honest look into our marriage of nearly 10 years and how we fumble through life together, with three kids and everything else that’s thrown at us. It’s honest, funny, encouraging, tough and incredibly delicious.

In the moments when I’m telling myself, “I can’t do this! What was I thinking?! ME?! Writing a book? Who’s going to read it? Buy it?” I turn to the table of contents and the food scattered throughout those pages. Just reading the names of the recipes I’m working on makes me incredibly hungry, eager for the recipes myself and assured that this book is going to be so freaking good! Ah! The food is special. It’s a bit grubby delicious in the way that’s not afraid to use cream and butter and yet it’s loaded with vegetables and uses all real ingredients. There’s plenty of salads along with cocktails and desserts.

Writing a book has been compared to the process of childbirth and while I can begin to see and understand the truth in that, right now I feel as if I’ve just had the baby. I’m alone at home sitting on the couch with a soft skinned baby relying on me for food, comfort, love and guidance. Even though I’ve read through stacks of parenting books and tried my best to observe and question seasoned parents suddenly I feel at a complete loss of what to do with this little life. And so now I’m sitting here, on the couch again, with a blank computer screen seeking to put words to paper trying to make this book the one of my dreams, the one I want to add to my own cookbook collection and the one you all will eagerly cook from. It feels awkward, thrilling and unbelievable.

I’ve been that awkward new mom with three babies and we’ve figured it out. We’re still figuring it out but the point is we’re doing it. And that’s just how this book will be. Bird by Bird, recipe by recipe, date by date. And around Valentine’s Day 2015 I’ll get to share this baby with the rest of the world. I can not wait for you to meet my book. In the meantime I’ll be here sharing recipes here as I always have. There will be more dates – different than the ones going in the book and there will be glimpses into this new world of writing a book as I’m fumbling through this process, figuring it out and fighting the doubt and celebrating the triumph. After all, this book will exist in great part because of you all, it seems appropriate then that you’d journey with me through it all.

Let’s do this.

A very hearty thank you to my agent Stacey Glick. Thank you for holding my hand, acting as counselor and already pushing this book to be bigger, greater and everything I want it to be.

Ice Cream Cake

It’s okay to admit that Dairy Queen is the inspiration for this dessert right? Their ice cream cakes remain to be one of my favorite desserts. I love it for its absence of cake, for the chewy hot fudge and crispy chocolate wafers in-between layers of creamy ice cream and as a kid I loved the magical printed images on the top (okay, I might still love that)  There’s nothing better – that is until I decided to make my own. I stopped shy of making my own ice cream, for that I used D’Ambrosia Gelato in Seattle (the best!). You can use 2 quarts of your favorite ice cream. 

It is definitely a cake worthy of a celebration. 

For the cake you’ll need the following recipes plus:

2 quarts ice cream (two flavors is ideal)

1 cup heavy cream, whipped to soft peaks

Chocolate Wafers

adapted from Alice Medrich

Of course one doesn’t need to bake their own chocolate wafers but there is something so satisfying as creaming butter and mixing in a few ingredients in your own kitchen only to come up with a flavor so reminiscent of childhood you’ll be reaching for a glass of milk and fighting the desire to lick the hydrogenated creamy center that’s not there. 

The ice cream cake only requires the use of half of the cookies I usually bake them all but if you’d rather you can freeze half of the dough for a later use. 

1 cup flour

1/2 cup cocoa powder

1/4 teaspoon baking soda

1/2 teaspoon kosher salt

6 tablespoons butter, soft

1/2 cup dark brown sugar

1/2 cup sugar

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

3 tablespoons milk

Whisk together the flour, cocoa powder, baking soda and salt in a bowl. Set that aside while you cream the butter and sugars together until light, about 4 minutes on medium speed or a couple more minutes more if you are mixing the dough by hand. Add the vanilla extract and milk to the creamed butter and sugars.

Slowly mix in the dry ingredients until just combined. Gather the wet dough and place on a piece of parchment paper. Roll the parchment paper up and work the dough into a rough 2” log. If you are using these cookies for the ice cream cake the shape really doesn’t matter as they are destined for crumbs but if you’d like to create a uniform log for perfectly formed round cookies refrigerate the dough for 10 minutes then reform the log and squeeze the ends to compress the dough into a perfect round. Continue this process until the log is uniform. If the shape isn’t a concern just chill until firm. About 45 minutes in the fridge or 20 minutes in the freezer.

Slice the roll of cookie dough into 1/4” discs and bake at 350*F for 12-15 minutes. You want them to be quite dry so they’ll hold their crunch when surrounded by ice cream. I fit the entire batch on two baking sheets, bake for 12 minutes then turn off the oven and leave the trays in for an additional 5 minutes. Just watch and smell them closely as you don’t want them to burn.

Let the cookies cool on the tray for 5 minutes before transferring to wire racks to cool completely.

Gather half of the cookies into a large ziplock bag and break up into small pieces.

Hot Fudge

adapted from Smitten Kitchen

If you have it use Lyle’s golden syrup here. It’s deeper in color and adds a lovely subtle caramel flavor to the hot fudge. That combined with a bit of salt, bittersweet chocolate and coffee this rich hot fudge attempts to play the starring role in this cake. 

1 cup heavy cream

1/3 cup golden syrup (or corn syrup)

1/3 cup dark brown sugar

1/4 cup cocoa powder

1 cup (6 ounces) bittersweet chocolate, chopped or use chips

2 tablespoons butter

1/4 teaspoon kosher salt

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

1 teaspoon instant espresso powder

In a sauce pan combine the cream, syrup sugar and cocoa powder. Bring to a boil, reduce the heat and then let simmer for 5 minutes, stirring occasionally.

Remove the pan from the heat and stir in the remaining ingredients. Once the chocolate and the butter have melted strain the entire mixture to ensure no pesky cocoa powder clumps remain.

Let cool to room temperature before assembling the cake. If you are making this in advance, refrigerate until ready to use then gently reheat on the stove or in a microwave until the hot fudge is pourable.

Will keep in the fridge for 2 weeks.

Candied Cocoa Nibs

“I wonder if you can candy cocoa nibs?” I recently asked a friend and then the rest was history. It turns out you can and you really should. With sugar and heat these bittersweet little crunchy chocolate bites turn into caramel-y, lightly sweetened, bittersweet chocolate bites. If you want more of a brittle texture add more sugar. I prefer to have the nibs just barely coated in caramel as I love the bitter, almost savory flavor they bring to the cake.

2-3 tablespoons sugar

1/4 cup cocoa nibs

course salt (like Maldon)

In a small, clean pan pour the sugar in an even layer across the bottom. Over medium-high heat melt the sugar, rotating the pan and gently stirring if the sugar is caramelizing unevenly. Once all is melted and the sugar is amber in color turn off the heat and immediately stir in the nibs.

Coat the cocoa nibs in the sugar then place on a parchment lined sheet tray, sprinkle a bit of salt on top.

Let the nibs cool completely then break into pieces.

Assembling the cake:

Line the bottom of a 8 or 9” springform pan with parchment paper (you only need the parchment paper if you are planning on removing the bottom of the springform pan, otherwise you can skip this step and serve it right on the base of the pan).

Add the first quart of softened ice cream to the bottom. Spread evenly with an off-set spatula.

Top that layer with half of the hot fudge and cookie crumbs.

Place the pan into the freezer for at least 30 minutes to set up.

Remove the pan from the freezer and add the second quart of softened ice cream over the cookie crumbs.

Top the ice cream with the remaining hot fudge.

Put the cake back into the freezer until you are ready to serve.

Un-mold the cake, taking off the base of the springform pan and parchment if you used it.

Top the cake with the whipped cream and candied cocoa nibs.

Serve immediately.

Keeps in the freezer for 1 week, although the cream on top turns icy but really no one complains about it.

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I knew it had to be lemon curd. Usually I’m not this passionate about the sweet and tart, pudding-like dessert but with that lemon tree right outside the window (the same one of the Whiskey Sour fame) it was practically taunting me. With branches bending under the weight of the fruit and large vibrant leaves shining in the sun I swear I heard all the lemons say, “Use me, use me while you can. They don’t grow them like us in Seattle.” You’re right, lemons, they don’t but have you seen our rhubarb (it’s coming!)?

While I had the lemons and strawberries that flooded the rows of the farmers market with their floral scent, I was without a bain marie or any sort of bowl and pot situation that would make a suitable replacement. But I couldn’t let the lemons continue their taunting any longer and I already had the taste of tart curd alongside a fresh berry salad with mint and vanilla scented whipped cream. And once you get that idea inside your head there’s no telling what you would do to make it a reality. Like say, create a “bain marie” out of a frying pan and an oversized metal bowl. I did what I had to do.

Technically the bowl isn’t supposed to touch the bottom of the pan but it did. The curd survived – actually it did more than survive, it sang. I even attempted to strain it through a tiny tea strainer but I gave up and came to terms with the possibility that this batch might not be up to my usual standard of perfect, uninterrupted smoothness.

When I teach people how to cook and bake I show them the techniques I’ve learned while working in professional kitchens and cooking at home. Trying as best I can to get them as excited as I get when I see a beautiful brunoise or even layers of butter spread thin throughout a batch of puff pastry. I teach them how to make lemon curd using a legitimate bain marie. But more than that I try to teach them to be fearless in the kitchen. To be a bit of a rebel – bend the rules, try something new, to use their instincts and be resourceful. And most importantly, to not be afraid of making mistakes because they will happen. And you know what, I do a terrible job of telling you all about my mistakes. I mean they aren’t pretty and they show my insecurities so I’m not usually inclined to run here and share them but they happen, a lot and I should tell you about them because the beauty of mistakes is that if you push through the fear and doubt you’ll usually find something better than what you originally set for. Or you’ll have a soggy cake that you need to throw out but even with that you tried and learned and you’ll move on.

So if a recipe says use a bain marie and to be be sure the bowl doesn’t touch the bottom of the pan, as the recipe below says, then do it but if you don’t have a bain marie then keep on going because the lemon curd is worth it and the rules don’t mind a little stretching every now and again.

Lemon Curd
adapted from epicurious.com

1 cup sugar
3/4 cup fresh lemon juice
3 large eggs
3 large egg yolks
¼ teaspoon kosher salt
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1/4 cup (1/2 stick) chilled unsalted butter

Whisk the sugar, lemon juice, eggs, and yolks in medium metal bowl. Set the bowl over saucepan of simmering water (do not allow bottom of bowl to touch water – or just do the best you can). Whisk constantly until thickened like a warm pudding, about 10 minutes. Remove bowl from over the water. Add butter, salt and vanilla; whisk until melted and combined. At this point I like to strain the curd to make sure no little bits of cooked eggs hinder the smooth texture. It is however, an optional step. Press plastic wrap directly onto surface of curd. Chill. Will keep, refrigerated, for one week.

I served the lemon curd with fresh berries that were tossed with just a bit of raw sugar (less refined, more coarse) and mint leaves. The whipped cream was flavored with just a touch of vanilla extract.

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“If I had a flower for every time I thought of you… I could walk through my garden forever.”

- Alfred Tennyson

And in this garden of mine we would picnic everyday, as we did the other night. There would always be stiff Manhattans in the flask, sweet strawberry cupcakes in hand and rich chocolate pudding capped with bourbon whipped cream.

You’d pick me a flower just as two more would pop up next to us.

I could live in this ever-growing garden always, as long as you were there with me.

Strawberry Cupcakes
adapted from Look, I made that
makes 16-18 cupcakes

Strawberries are definitely not in season here and yet I needed these cupcakes. I imagine the flavor to be much more strawberry-like if the berries are used were ruby red throughout. I’ll try again in June. But regardless we ate them happily. These we topped with brown sugar buttercream and while delicious we decided that lightly sweetened whipped cream and sliced berry on top would have been wonderful too.

2 1/4 cup flour
1/4 cup cornstarch
1 tsp baking soda
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
1/3 cup buttermilk
1/4 cup extra virgin olive oil
1 tea vanilla extract
1/2 vanilla bean (optional)
4 ounces unsalted butter, room temperature
1 1/2 cups sugar
2 large eggs, room temperature, beaten
1 cup pureed strawberries
1/2 teaspoon orange zest
1/4 tea rose water (optional)

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Line two cupcake pans with cupcake papers.
In a medium bowl, whisk together the flour, cornstarch, baking soda, and salt. Set aside. In another medium bowl, combine the buttermilk, oil, and vanilla extract. Set aside.
Combine the vanilla seeds (if using), sugar and butter and beat until well combined. Add the eggs in a slow stream, beating well after each addition. Beat for 1 minute at medium speed. Gradually add the buttermilk mixture and beat for 1 minute at medium speed.
Reduce the speed to low and add the flour mixture. Mix until just combined. Stir in the pureed strawberries and the orange zest.
Spoon into the prepared cake pans and bake until the cupcakes spring back when touched lightly in the center, about 20-25 minutes. Cool slightly before removing from the pan.
Cool completely before frosting.

Brown Sugar Buttercream

4 large egg whites
1 cup packed dark brown sugar
1/4 teaspoon salt
1 1/2 cups (3 sticks) unsalted butter, room temperature
1 teaspoon vanilla extract

In a heatproof bowl set over (not in) a pan of simmering water, whisk together egg whites, sugar, and salt.

Cook, whisking constantly, until the sugar has dissolved and the mixture is warm to the touch.

Transfer to the clean bowl of an electric mixer. Beat on medium speed until fluffy and cooled, about 15 minutes.

Raise speed to high; beat until stiff peaks form. Reduce speed to medium-low; add butter, 2 to 3 tablespoons at a time, until fully incorporated. Add vanilla and whisk to combine.

Chocolate Pudding
Adapted from Smitten Kitchen
Serves 6
This really is the perfect classic pudding. The creamy texture is reminiscent of the boxed variety I remember and crave. And really, it’s no more difficult to make. Unless you use the instant pack – that’s way too easy and a little odd how it firms up so quickly.
I used dark brown sugar instead of the white which added more richness and depth to the pudding but I imagine white is the more classic choice. I’ll leave it up to your pudding discretion.

1/4 cup cornstarch
1/2 cup sugar (see note)
1/4 teaspoon kosher salt
3 cups whole milk
7 ounces chocolate, coarsely chopped (I used 60% chips)
1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract

Combine the cornstarch, sugar and salt. Whisk well to remove any lumps.
In a large saucepan bring the milk to a boil to a simmer. Add the sugar and cornstarch mixture and whisk together for one minute, or until thick. Turn off the heat and add the chocolate. Whisk until the chocolate is melted and everything is well combined.
Transfer the pudding to a bowl, or individual bowls, and place wax paper or plastic wrap directly on the surface to prevent a skin from forming.
Refrigerated until cold and set.

Bourbon Whipped Cream

There’s no recipe except to add as much bourbon as you think necessary to a bit of whipped cream. I added nearly 2 tablespoons to about 1 1/2 cups of already whipped cream.

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It was just about a year ago when I had the butterscotch budino (an Italian baked custard) at Delancey. Sitting on top of its perfectly smooth camel colored cap was a pile of billowy cream with streaks of roasted banana throughout. I’ve always been a fan of pudding and its not-so distant cousins; panna cotta, pot de creme, budino, etc. so it was not too surprising that I enjoyed this dessert. What was surprising was the extent to which I enjoyed it. It was intended to be shared but I did not. Every little streak of creamy pudding that hid in the corners of the shallow jar it was served in became mine. I staked my claim after the first bitter, sweet and a bit salty taste. It reminded me of Nips, those candies that were tucked deep inside Grandma’s purse when I was a young girl. She would pull out one of the gold wrapped oval candies with their circular indentation in the middle and pass one down the pew to me during church. The nearly impossible task of unfolding the foil lined wrapper while not disrupting the service was a worthy price to pay for that sweet, toffee-like candy.

The whipped cream on top obliterated my firm prior conviction that cooked bananas tasted of cardboard mush. I happily humbled myself with mouthfuls of the roasted banana cream, accepting that bananas cooked in butter and brown sugar are quite fine indeed.

A year or maybe even two years later on a gray and drizzling January day the sudden urge for those flavors struck intensely. In my home version I opted for a simple butterscotch pudding omitting the need for an oven and the sometimes frightful water bath. I went back to my banana souflee making days at Spago while I briefly sauteed the bananas in butter and melted brown sugar. Just as the bananas started to take on a deep amber coat I splashed them with a bit of rum. Once cool I purreed the bananas then folded the sweet and very unlike cardboard mush mixture into whipped cream and placed a very generous amount on top of the creamy, sweet and that wonderfully familiar toffee flavored pudding.
This time I shared. Some.

Butterscotch Pudding
adapted from Gourmet 2009
makes 4 servings

This is an incredibly rich, sweet and pleasantly salted pudding. A few bites was sufficient for me (and then a few bites more every day for the next week). If you’d like less sweetness you can cut the sugar down to ½ cup.

3/4 cup packed dark brown sugar
½ t kosher or flaky sea salt
2 tablespoons plus 1 teaspoon cornstarch
1 1/2 cups whole milk
1/2 cup heavy cream
2 tablespoons unsalted butter
1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract

Whisk together the brown sugar, cornstarch, and 1/2 teaspoon salt in a medium saucepan, then whisk in milk and cream. Bring to a boil over medium heat, whisking frequently. Continue to whisk for 1 minute then remove from heat and add the butter and vanilla. Pour into a bowl, then cover surface with wax paper or plastic wrap. Chill until cold, at least 1 1/2 hours.

Roasted Banana Whipped Cream

2 ripe bananas, cut in 1” chunks
2 tablespoons butter
2 tablespoons dark brown sugar
1 tablespoon Rum

2 cups softly whipped cream

In a large saucepan over medium high heat add the butter and brown sugar. Continually stir the sugar taking care so that it doesn’t scorch. Cook until the butter and sugar has melted together. Add the bananas and quickly cook for just about 1 minute. You want the edges to caramelize and coat in the sugar but you don’t want them to get too soft. Turn off the heat and carefully add the rum. Stir everything together and set this aside to cool.
Once cool puree the bananas in a food processor.

Add some of the banana mixture to the whipped cream and whisk to combine. This is done to taste. I added about half of the bananas but you can do more or less.

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