“Berthillon's ice cream is dense and creamy--- served, in keeping with French rules of moderation, in golf-ball-size scoops. You have to be a real purist to order a simple (pronounced samp-le"). I usually ordered a double (doob-le"). Menthe (fresh mint), Créole (rum raisin), and nougat-miel (honey-nougat) are at the top of my list. But as good as the ice cream is, it's the sorbets that are Berthillon's real standouts. I almost always order cacao amer, a bitter chocolate sorbet so dark it's closing in on black. My second scoop depends on the season: pear, melon, rhubarb, or framboise à la rose (raspberry with a hint of rose). But habit often sets in and I go back to my old favorite: fraise des bois (wild strawberry). These tiny gem-like fruits are the equivalent of strawberry grenades, releasing a tart, concentrated flavor that downgrades every other strawberry I've tasted to the level of Bubblicious.” Ice CreamFrenchFlavorsStrawberrySorbet Book:Picnic in Provence: A Memoir with Recipes Source: Picnic in Provence: A Memoir with Recipes
“Turns out there are cultural differences even in ice cream. Gwendal thinks our freshly churned strawberry ice cream doesn't have enough fruit to bear that name; I think it's heavenly. Apparently the French like their strawberry in the form of a hot-pink sorbet. I prefer this, dense and creamy. The taste of the raw milk--- even after a whirl in the pasteurizer--- really comes through. I'd like to congratulate the cows. The color is the faintest blush of pink studded with chunks of ripe red strawberry that resist under your teeth.” Ice CreamStrawberryCultural Ideal Book:Picnic in Provence: A Memoir with Recipes Source: Picnic in Provence: A Memoir with Recipes