We’re in the home stretch of winter, but it sure doesn’t feel like that here in New York, with another foot of snow getting dumped down just before the weekend. And while I can debate forever with the snow lovers, weighing the virtues and the pitfalls of having such a large amount of snow around, setting aside the tiny window of city beautification, no one can argue that it sucks when the sewers get clogged, causing mass confusion for each street crossing on every corner. Bah! humbug! to that. Even folks rocking those country-chic Hunters I’m seeing everywhere can’t escape from the lakes of slush unsplashed.

Why do I rant on about this? Well, in spite of the slushy walking conditions, I had promises to keep and dinner to make for two semi-celebrity guests: Paul, the incredibly gifted designer who is responsible for giving this site its face, and his lovely wife Jen. When selecting the menu, this recipe spoke to my favorite fun fact about the couple – they met, unbelievably, on spring break in Cancun, and ten years later, they’re one of the happiest couples you’re ever likely to meet. Rum and coke ice cream? Tropical caramelized bananas? Perfect, no? But back to the slush – this recipe had some doozies on the shopping list, so there I was, running around from store to store, covered in slush.

Nothing that  a little planning ahead couldn’t have prevented, but my lack of foresight sent me off around the city in search of peanut flour – which is blanched, ground, partially-defatted peanuts. I hit all of my favorite specialty spots, and no one had it. Other nuts, no problem. Hazelnut flour? Sure.  Almond flour? You got it! Even at Whole Foods! Chestnut flour? Yes ‘mam. Defeated, I returned home and made my own version, by grinding unsalted, dry roasted peanuts to the point that they were still somewhat granular (as opposed to peanut butter – hence the defatted property of the genuine article) and then blanching them (to remove some of the oil), draining them, dehydrating them in the oven, grinding them, and sifting them. They were still too coarse, the real deal would have produced a better texture, but they worked enough. In the future, I’ll just buy the stuff from this website.

But wait, there’s more. The ice cream recipe calls for cola syrup, which imparts the concentrated flavor of Coca Cola and all of the sugar, without adding a ton of extra liquid that would otherwise create additional, unwanted ice crystallization when freezing. This syrup is used by any bar or restaurant with a soda fountain, it come is huge bags and is combined with CO2 and water to make soda. When Brian commented earlier in the week that perhaps I should go online to find it in smaller quantities, I blew him off, “pshaw, I took cola syrup when I was a teenager for an upset stomach, it’s a pharmacy staple.” When Brian ran out of fingers to count how many years have passed since I’d last taken coke syrup for an upset tummy, he stopped talking, and because he is a great boyfriend, he accompanied me to CVS, Duane Reade, and Wallgreens, where each time, I was shot down by the pharmacist. Feeling desperate, I tried the mom and pop pharmacy down on 5th and A, which, in addition to a scary window display of prosthetic legs, happily carries the old-timey remedy.

Returning home victorious, I made the ice cream, which I was surprised to learn, does not contain any heavy cream. I was pleased with the rum and coke flavors, but felt that the texture could have been improved with the addition of some fat. I’m still wondering why it didn’t have any, and that perhaps Johnny Iuzzini left it out because the additional fat, combined with the alcohol and high fructose corn syrup (definitely a first for this kitchen, by the way) would have prevented it from freezing at all. Indeed, the addition of rum at the end made it dangerously soft, but with some time in the freezer it was scoop-able.

Then it was time to try out my homemade peanut flour. I buttered sheets of phyllo, layering them between a sifted mixture of confectioner’s sugar and the peanut flour, attempting to keep the mixture as even as possible. I hadn’t ground my peanuts finely enough, resulting in some dark roasted peanut specks between the caramelized phyllo layers after baking. I didn’t care though – the phyllo crisps were still awesome and utterly addictive. We couldn’t stop nibbling at the edges as they cooled.

While the phyllo sheets were in the oven, I chopped some more peanuts and tossed them with corn syrup. I baked them, stirring regularly, on a silicone mat.

And, in classic style, I stopped taking pictures. Guests were here. Wine was poured. We enjoyed Brian’s amazing, deconstructed caviar potatoes (that’s a “blanket” of creme fraiche gel, on top, just in case you were wondering). I walked away from the table and caramelized the bananas, something I learned to do at the Brooklyn restaurant internship, but had never mastered. The first pan was mushy, but the second pan was a lot better. Either way, there’s not a lot that could be bad about caramelized bananas and rum.

The caramelized bananas were made for the rum and coke flavor from the ice cream. The complimentary roasted peanut flavors were a bit of a surprise, and the phyllo shattered between our teeth before melting on the tongue. It was the perfect escape from the slush piles, and totally worth the scavenger hunting through them.

Next up: Cheese Doughnuts ~ Lemon Confit

Interested in playing along? Click to get your copy of Dessert FourPlay: Sweet Quartets from a Four-Star Pastry Chef