Blueberry & Yoghurt Sherbet

There are many reasons why I love Paris, and have become rather adept at contriving ever more reasons to visit. On that long list you will find crammed somewhere between the entry for le vin and le pain, le yaourt. Take a stroll through any grocery aisle - and by any, I really do mean any, be it the ubiquitous neighbourhood Monoprix, destination food shopping at La Grande Epicerie, or wandering amidst the handcrafted raw milk wonders in some 7th arrondissement temple to fromage (I like Barthélémy, Marie-Anne Cantin and Quatrehomme) where you may if you wish ponder whether the flintiness of the soils and the herbaceousness of the grasses whence Buttercup the Froment du Léon cow grazes contribute to the deep yellow of the beurre de baratte from Brittany as you wait patiently in a very long line in a very concise space - and you'll be absolutely floored by the staggering selection of yoghurt.

Packaged in little glass jars, ceramic pots or plain ol' plastic, you'll find a yoghurt to suit every taste and budget. If at the supermarket, you will of course find lurking in the midst the kind of carton featuring gums or gelatine or other thickeners designed to create the illusion of creaminess, flavoured with a dash of ethylvanillin to boot, as if your palate needed further clarification concluding that the guck is indeed a synthetic substance not anywhere to be found in nature. But by and large, there's a fair bit of good stuff, the kind of stuff that comes to mind when we think of European or French style yoghurt. Of the more readily available brands, I am especially partial to La Fermière. Super creamy and naturally so, made from the best quality whole milk and cream, with an unbelievably plush mouthfeel, it's the kind of yoghurt that self-professed inveterate yoghurt-haters happily make an exception for; I should know, I live with one.

Finding good artisanal yoghurt here can be tricky. Sometimes, it can prove to be quite the expedition. But if you look hard and know where to look, it need not be a wild goose chase. The French stuff is harder to come by, the Australian less so. For the purposes of testing the Blueberry & Yoghurt Sherbert recipe included in this menu*, I've consciously avoided using the hard-to-find, boutique-y yoghurts that are such a treat to eat at breakfast but perhaps a tad extravagant to use in fro-yo, not least because the milky subtleties are somewhat lost against all that vivid juicy tart berriness. For this purpose, I've been using a widely available natural Greek-style yoghurt that's Australian, with fabulous results. It goes without saying, if budget permits or you are feeling extravagant, by all means knock yourself out and use the fancy stuff. I'm just saying...

There are several things I really like about this recipe. First, the short and sweet list of ingredients - ripe blueberries, good whole milk yoghurt, a bit of sugar, a spritz of lemon juice, plus an optional splash of crème de myrtille. Second, the short and sweet list of things to do to make the frozen treat - namely, blitz, chill, churn, and hey presto. Finally, there's that glorious, mouthwatering shade of puce produced that's truly, to borrow my 17 year-old cousin's favourite adjective for describing anything that's insanely cool, sick.

* I will be teaching Fruit Desserts, a demo class, on 13 March 2010 , 14 March 2010 , 27 March 2010 and 28 March 2010. For all inquiries, please call the school at +65 6479 8442 or 6479 8414, or email shermaycs@yahoo.com.sg