Sorbet

Jim Tarantino, Delaware Valley sorbet specialist and marinade maven, loves to create custom-crafted ices for lucky friends as well as for classy caterers like Peachtree, Feast Your Eyes and Miss Amelia's Barbecue. Tarantino has always been a culinary part-timer, starting in adolescence when he earned pocket money scouring pots and pans first for his uncles who cooked for ARA and, later, in the kitchens of the Bellevue Stratford. As a communications major at Temple University, he figured out he'd never replace Edward R. Murrow, so he took writing and design courses that taught him how the choice and arrangement of type affected readers' responses to whatever they saw and read.

Toward noon one day last week, the ladies bridge club gathered, as it has regularly for years, in the ballroom of the Philadelphia Cricket Club for a buffet lunch preceding the championship round. The cricket club, by its accounting, is America's oldest country club, having been established in Chestnut Hill in 1854. And if much has changed since - the status of women immeasurably, for one thing - certain other things, as they must, remain the same. The buffet table was something of a last redoubt in this regard, lined with a tureen of tomato soup and bowls of chicken and egg salad and green salad and a vegetable-noodle dish, rolls, and (for a dash of edginess?

This week, Rick Nichols rings the bells in place of Craig LaBan, who returns next week with a review of the Devil?s Den in S. Philadelphia. At fortress Zahav, perched aloofly (up three flights of garden steps) above the cobblestones of Old City, Michael Solomonov, at 29, is burnishing his credentials as one of the city's most thoughtful chefs. The evidence of his excellence mounts in matters large and small - in the addictively stretchy rounds of laffa, a flatbread hot from the oak-fired oven; in the cheeky sweetbreads - "They sort of have a taste of Chicken McNuggets," he offers - wrapped in crispy chicken skin; in creamy Egyptian rice stuffed into baby eggplant.

What: Hot Scoop microwaveable ice cream scoop Where: Improvements catalog, 1-800-642-2112 Price: $17.99, plus $8.11 shipping, insurance and tax Designed for ice cream fiends who can't wait for a pint to soften, the Hot Scoop has a heat-absorbing polymer scoop bowl that warms up in 30 to 60 seconds in the microwave. The white plastic handle stays cool. The test. It would be terrific if this scoop cut through rock-hard ice cream like a laser, but it doesn't. Tested with straight-from-the-freezer sorbet and ice cream, the Hot Scoop was able to peel ribbons off the surface.

Cantaloupe, the melon with the orange flesh and the delicate sweetness, is at its juicy best on these sweltering days of midsummer. Serve a cool wedge wrapped in prosciutto as a dinner appetizer. Chop a few chunks into a fruit salad. Squeeze some fresh lime over melon balls and make a light, refreshing dessert. Or give yourself the special treat of freshly made cantaloupe-ginger sorbet. In this age of excellent, work-saving small appliances, making the sorbet is unbelievably fast and easy, perfect for the cook "In a Hurry.

Summer is not just ice cream. It's snow cones and water ice; sherbet, sorbet and sorbetto; granitas and batidos. All refreshing and flavorful ices. Ices have been a warm-weather ritual for some time. In Persia, sherbet (or sharbat) was a drink of ice or snow sweetened with fruit juice. A fifth-century visitor from China is reported to have observed: "The climate is very hot, and families keep ice in their houses. " This ice was likely brought down from the mountains and stored for the summer months using much the same method as that of Alexander the Great, who supposedly dug out pits and covered them with oak branches so that he would always have cooling snow available.

Capogiro , the gelateria, is on a path to slow but steady growth, says cofounder John Reitano. Less than a week after he and his wife, Stephanie, opened their third location at 1625 E. Passyunk Ave. in South Philadelphia, they unlocked the doors to their fourth spot last week. It is in the new Radian building at 3925 Walnut St. in University City. They're not done. Reitano says their new production kitchen at the former Medical College of Pennsylvania in East Falls should be running this week.

The parade began as the last dinner plates headed for the kitchen. A cake filled with white chocolate mousse emerged first, coming to rest on a display table pedestal. A red velvet cake crowned with giant strawberries appeared, then a chocolate amaretto cheesecake, then a 21-layer chocolate cake, appropriately dubbed Debauchery. Another dessert - with the word sinful in its name and caramel, rum and walnuts inside its cookie-dough casing - had been dipped whole in melted chocolate truffles.

There are two foods that are fun to make at home and as satisfying as what you can buy in most stores or restaurants. They are pizza and ice cream. We'll deal with pizza when the weather cools off a bit. When I first started making frozen desserts, there wasn't nearly as much fancy machinery as there is today. In my first restaurant, we made my zabaglione ice cream and blueberry sorbet with nothing more than a "hotel" pan (the long metal pan you see in chafing dishes), a wire whip and a spatula.

Mary Caruso's three children are in their 30s now, busy with careers and children of their own, but birthdays always draw them back to their mother's Chesterbrook townhouse for dinner. It's a long-standing family tradition that Caruso, 57, will cook whatever dishes they request on those occasions. Since all three have adventurous palates, she is frequently called upon to rustle up Escargots Bourguignon, or a fancy salad with caramelized pears and prosciutto, or homemade champagne sorbet, or individual chocolate truffle cakes, as she did on a recent Saturday evening when daughter Janet Caruso Krause turned 32. "When she hosts a dinner, it always becomes an event," said Janet, who lives in Phoenixville and works for an e-commerce Web site.

Capogiro , the gelateria, is on a path to slow but steady growth, says cofounder John Reitano. Less than a week after he and his wife, Stephanie, opened their third location at 1625 E. Passyunk Ave. in South Philadelphia, they unlocked the doors to their fourth spot last week. It is in the new Radian building at 3925 Walnut St. in University City. They're not done. Reitano says their new production kitchen at the former Medical College of Pennsylvania in East Falls should be running this week.

Toward noon one day last week, the ladies bridge club gathered, as it has regularly for years, in the ballroom of the Philadelphia Cricket Club for a buffet lunch preceding the championship round. The cricket club, by its accounting, is America's oldest country club, having been established in Chestnut Hill in 1854. And if much has changed since - the status of women immeasurably, for one thing - certain other things, as they must, remain the same. The buffet table was something of a last redoubt in this regard, lined with a tureen of tomato soup and bowls of chicken and egg salad and green salad and a vegetable-noodle dish, rolls, and (for a dash of edginess?

This week, Rick Nichols rings the bells in place of Craig LaBan, who returns next week with a review of the Devil?s Den in S. Philadelphia. At fortress Zahav, perched aloofly (up three flights of garden steps) above the cobblestones of Old City, Michael Solomonov, at 29, is burnishing his credentials as one of the city's most thoughtful chefs. The evidence of his excellence mounts in matters large and small - in the addictively stretchy rounds of laffa, a flatbread hot from the oak-fired oven; in the cheeky sweetbreads - "They sort of have a taste of Chicken McNuggets," he offers - wrapped in crispy chicken skin; in creamy Egyptian rice stuffed into baby eggplant.

If you've had one too many dry or tasteless or excessively sweet desserts at the tables of family and friends during Passover, supposed sweets crafted to meet the food requirements (read: restrictions) of the holiday, you'll be interested in pastry chef Amy Edelman's take on the subject. Her motto for desserts for Passover and other occasions is "Moist and Delicious. " For home bakers, that can be a challenge at Passover time, since strict dietary laws for Jews during this holiday ban the eating of leavened food (chametz)

The pumpkin, so often marginalized as a decorative item and excluded from serious cooking, has a true friend in Barbara Gennello. Every fall, she and her husband, Jim, host a party at their Palmyra home that glorifies the gaudy, hard-shelled winter squash and proves that the jack-o'-lantern form is not its highest calling. Cajun-spiced deep-fried turkeys and sweet maple-glazed hams anchor the feast, and virtually every other dish - from appetizer to dessert - incorporates fresh or canned pumpkin.

What: Hot Scoop microwaveable ice cream scoop Where: Improvements catalog, 1-800-642-2112 Price: $17.99, plus $8.11 shipping, insurance and tax Designed for ice cream fiends who can't wait for a pint to soften, the Hot Scoop has a heat-absorbing polymer scoop bowl that warms up in 30 to 60 seconds in the microwave. The white plastic handle stays cool. The test. It would be terrific if this scoop cut through rock-hard ice cream like a laser, but it doesn't. Tested with straight-from-the-freezer sorbet and ice cream, the Hot Scoop was able to peel ribbons off the surface.

Summer is not just ice cream. It's snow cones and water ice; sherbet, sorbet and sorbetto; granitas and batidos. All refreshing and flavorful ices. Ices have been a warm-weather ritual for some time. In Persia, sherbet (or sharbat) was a drink of ice or snow sweetened with fruit juice. A fifth-century visitor from China is reported to have observed: "The climate is very hot, and families keep ice in their houses. " This ice was likely brought down from the mountains and stored for the summer months using much the same method as that of Alexander the Great, who supposedly dug out pits and covered them with oak branches so that he would always have cooling snow available.

Mary Caruso's three children are in their 30s now, busy with careers and children of their own, but birthdays always draw them back to their mother's Chesterbrook townhouse for dinner. It's a long-standing family tradition that Caruso, 57, will cook whatever dishes they request on those occasions. Since all three have adventurous palates, she is frequently called upon to rustle up Escargots Bourguignon, or a fancy salad with caramelized pears and prosciutto, or homemade champagne sorbet, or individual chocolate truffle cakes, as she did on a recent Saturday evening when daughter Janet Caruso Krause turned 32. "When she hosts a dinner, it always becomes an event," said Janet, who lives in Phoenixville and works for an e-commerce Web site.

Public relations man Harold S. Gilbert had a terrible problem. In just a few hours, Eleanor Roosevelt would step on stage at Gimbel Bros. Department Store to receive the prestigious Gimbel's Award, bestowed upon the most honored women of the day. The news folks were already lined up, ready to film the 1934 event. But, they needed 220 volts to run the klieg lights. The store, at Eighth and Market Streets, only used 110 volts. "Where could we get 220 volts from?" the former Gimbel's publicist reminisced yesterday, sitting outside a Four Seasons ballroom where his colleagues were celebrating the 50th anniversary of the Philadelphia Public Relations Association.

Jim Tarantino, Delaware Valley sorbet specialist and marinade maven, loves to create custom-crafted ices for lucky friends as well as for classy caterers like Peachtree, Feast Your Eyes and Miss Amelia's Barbecue. Tarantino has always been a culinary part-timer, starting in adolescence when he earned pocket money scouring pots and pans first for his uncles who cooked for ARA and, later, in the kitchens of the Bellevue Stratford. As a communications major at Temple University, he figured out he'd never replace Edward R. Murrow, so he took writing and design courses that taught him how the choice and arrangement of type affected readers' responses to whatever they saw and read.