Strawberry Ice Cream

I have been staking out the farmers markets. Every time I was near one, I would do a cursory glance. Strawberries? No. Damn. So I'd buy some tomatoes, and herb plant or two, and go on my way. In the grocery store I would pass California strawberries and sigh, because I was being stubborn. I was insistent on having local strawberries, so the taste would be the absolute freshest. Memorial Day weekend I spent in Pennsylvania, and I knew, if I looked, there would be strawberries, but they would be hard pressed to make the journey back to NY. It was maddening. Finally, this past Wednesday, I practically skipped through Union Square, it seemed like every booth was teeming with strawberries, cartons and cartons of them, pretty and red, cascading from tables and boxes everywhere. And I knew just what to do with them. I was going to make Strawberry Ice Cream.

The fascination has been developing for about a month now. As the temperature went up, I keep glancing at the dormant ice cream machine that has not been switched on since the Pumpkin Ice Cream last fall. I would be shifting things around in my freezer, and see my mixer bowl just sitting there, waiting to churn. Somewhere in this obsession I decided that it would have to be strawberry ice cream, with fresh, farmers market strawberries. Those lovely, red little jewels, all bumpy and misshapen and not quite perfect like the ones sold in grocery stores, with that deep intense flavor that comes from having been driven straight from the farm. I would accept nothing else. So excited was I when I found my beloved berries, I bought far too many and Will had to make drinks out of them. My life is so hard sometimes.

Strawberry Ice Cream
Lovingly Lifted from Gourmet Magazine

Ingredients:

- 1 3/4 Cups Heavy Cream
- 3 (3 by 1 inch) strips of fresh lemon zest
- 1/8 teaspoon salt
- 2 large eggs
- 3/4 cups sugar
- 1 lb strawberries (about 3 cups) trimmed and halved
- 1 tablespoon fresh lime juice

Directions:
Combine cream, zest, and salt in a heavy saucepan and bring just to a boil. Remove from heat and discard zest.

Whisk eggs with 1/2 cup of sugar in a bowl, then add hot cream in a slow stream, whisking. Carefully wipe out saucepan with paper towel to remove any cream that has dried itself to the side of the pan. Pour cream and egg back into saucepan and cook over moderately low heat, stirring constantly, until slightly thickened enough to coat the back of the spoon and leaves a clear trail when a finger is drawn through it. An instant read thermometer will read 170 degrees. Do not boil.

Immediately pour custard into through a fine sieve into a metal bowl, then cool to room temperature, stirring occasionally. (If you need to speed up this process set your bowl in a larger bowl of ice water and stir until cooled.) Refrigerate, covered, about 2 hours or up to 1 day.

While custard chills, puree strawberries with remaining 1/4 cup sugar and lemon juice in a blender until smooth, then force through fine sieve (to remove seeds) into chilled custard. Stir the puree into custard until the mixture is all one color.

Freeze custard in ice-cream maker (in mine this took about 25 minutes, but check your manufacturer's instructions) then transfer to an airtight container and put in freezer overnight to harden. Ice cream keeps up to 1 week.

I loved my ice cream. It was super creamy and burst with strawberry flavor. It was a bit tart, I spoke briefly of cutting back a bit on the lemon juice, but Will insists it is perfect and that I am being finicky.

Last year I bought a toy, the Ice Cream Keeper a container that you put in the freezer and then use it to store ice cream for picnics. The instructions said it would keep the ice cream frozen for up to and hour and a half. To test this theory I plunked my ice cream in, stuck in in my picnic cold bag and headed to Governors Island last weekend. I was probably pushing 2 hours by the time we got off the ferry, but it still worked pretty well! A bit mushy, but my fellow picnickers seemed undeterred, and the ice cream vanished in under 5 minutes.

Pumpin Ice Cream and Soft Ginger Cookies

I am a loyal customer to places that I have genuine affection for. I will go back for years and order the same things over and over again if there are truly dishes that make me happy. Since I was a little girl I have enjoyed the coffee and ice cream at a place known as Coffee and Cream in Doylestown, Pennsylvania. My mother would take me there after trips to the library, it has a deep nostalgia factor for me. They roast their own coffee in a huge machine by the door, so the shop always smells fantastic, and they serve local ice cream in a variety of flavors. In addition to this they also sell baked goods like cookies and bagels.
A few years ago on a chilly fall afternoon they were advertising a special, where they took one of their large ginger cookies, heated it up a bit in the microwave, and topped it with pumpkin ice cream. It was one of the most fantastic things I have ever eaten. I remembered it all year and the following October I headed back intent on ordering it again. I didn't see a sign for the special, but they had ginger cookies and they had pumpkin ice cream. I asked the girl behind the counter if she knew about the special from last year. She blinked at me.
The thing about places like this is they employ a rotating cast of teenage staffers, essential to the economy of girls 16-19 years old, but fairly useless in remembering the history of a business. I patiently explained about the cookie and the heating and the ice cream. She looked at the register in terror. "Um, let me go ask how to ring that up," and she scurried off to find the manager. What the big deal was about just ringing me up for a cookie and a scoop of ice cream I'm not sure, but eventually she got herself sorted out and I got my dessert.

I have gone to great lengths to continue to get my fall treat every year. One year I missed the window of when they had pumpkin ice cream and was nearly beside myself with grief. Since Will and I usually back and forth to New York by a bus whose station is in Doylestown, I convinced Will's parents to take us into town early to catch the bus last year, just so I could eat this desert. Each time I ordered I had to explain to the new crop of teenagers how to make this treat all over again. This year I finally decided that as a permanent resident of New York and the proud owner of an ice cream machine, I needed to stop being a slave to locale and the blank stares of teenage girls. I was getting my fall treat dammit, even if I had to make it myself.

I hunted for recipes. Now that I had conquered my fear of baking, I could handle cookies. It was especially important that the cookies be soft, so they could be broken apart with a spoon. This meant no switching out the Crisco for butter, like I did last Christmas when I produced a batch rather difficult to eat cookies on the recommendation of a Times article. I was fortunate to find a recipe on Epicurious that actually billed itself as Soft Ginger Cookies. The website failed me on a pumpkin ice cream recipe, so I had to look elsewhere. Food Network only had a recipe submitted by a viewer, not one that they had tested. I found a few more on the less rigorously tested recipe sites, and was wary. This was an important desert, not to be trifled with. That's what desserts like trifles are for. I finally found a solid looking recipe on the Williams Sonoma website, and was ready to go.
First up, ice cream. It's important to note here that little direction where the pumpkin and vanilla need to be wisked together and then chilled for 3 hours. I missed that so I didn't get started on the custard until three hours after I had meant to. Oops.

Ingredients:

• 1 cup fresh pumpkin puree or canned unsweetened
  pumpkin puree
• 1 tsp. vanilla extract
• 2 cups heavy cream
• 3/4 cup firmly packed dark brown sugar
• 5 egg yolks
• 1/2 tsp. ground cinnamon
• 1/2 tsp. ground ginger
• 1/4 tsp. salt
• Pinch of freshly grated nutmeg (Yeah, I'll pretend I
  grated some nutmeg. Sure...)
• 1 Tbs. bourbon

Directions:
In a bowl, whisk together the pumpkin puree and vanilla. Cover and refrigerate for at least 3 hours or up to 8 hours. (Again, oops)In a heavy 2-quart saucepan over medium heat, combine 1 1/2 cups of the cream and 1/2 cup of the brown sugar. Cook until bubbles form around the edges of the pan, about 5 minutes. Meanwhile, in a bowl, combine the egg yolks, cinnamon, ginger, salt, nutmeg, the remaining 1/2 cup cream and the remaining 1/4 cup brown sugar. Whisk until smooth and the sugar begins to dissolve. Remove the cream mixture from the heat. 

Gradually whisk about 1/2 cup of the hot cream mixture into the egg mixture until smooth. Pour the egg mixture back into the pan. Cook over medium heat, stirring constantly with a wooden spoon and keeping the custard at a low simmer, until it is thick enough to coat the back of the spoon and leaves a clear trail when a finger is drawn through it, 4 to 6 minutes. Do not allow the custard to boil.

Strain through a fine-mesh sieve into a bowl. Place the bowl in a larger bowl partially filled with ice water, stirring occasionally until cool. (See Stef, that's what the strainer should look like :P) Whisk the pumpkin mixture into the custard. Cover with plastic wrap, pressing it directly on the surface of the custard to prevent a skin from forming. Refrigerate until chilled, at least 3 hours or up to 24 hours. Transfer the custard to an ice cream maker and freeze according to the manufacturers instructions. Add the bourbon during the last minute of churning. Transfer the ice cream to a freezer-safe container. Cover and freeze until firm, at least 3 hours or up to 3 days, before serving. Makes about 1 quart.

The five egg yolk thing almost made me crazy as I stared at the bowl of five egg whites that I had remaining. I use organic cage free eggs because I'm an East Coast Liberal Elitist, and those suckers aren't cheap. I solved the problem by covering the whites, sticking them in the fridge, and making a kick ass egg white omelet with mushrooms and shallots the next morning. Not being wasteful is awesome and delicious.


As the custard chilled I worked on the cookies. When I moved out my mother practically threw her Kitchen Aid standing mixer into the moving van. She had not baked since I was nine and didn't want the massive appliance in her cabinets anymore. I took it gleefully, the thing is a war horse. It's older then I am and shows no signs of stopping. I'm pretty sure I could throw a cinderblock in there and in five minutes have a smooth meringue. I have registered for the pasta maker attachment, but as my mother never used any attachments on it I'm not even sure if that part works, so I have my fingers crossed. The Kitchen Aid makes cookie making way easy, and was even able to deal with the cup of dark molasses, which is a goo that I personally was terrified of. Sticky sticky heavy goo.

Ingredients:

• 4 cups all purpose flour
• 1 cup sugar
• 2 teaspoons baking soda
• 2 teaspoons ground ginger
• 1 teaspoon ground nutmeg
• 1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
• 1 teaspoon ground cloves
• 1/2 teaspoon salt
• 1 cup robust (dark) molasses
• 1/2 cup pure vegetable shortening (for the love of god,not butter)
• 1 large egg, beaten to blend
• 1/2 cup boiling water

Directions: Combine first 8 ingredients in large bowl. Add
molasses, shortening, and egg. Using electric mixer, beat until well blended. Beat in 1/2 cup boiling water. Chill dough 1 hour. 

Preheat oven to 400°F. Roll chilled dough by generous tablespoonfuls into balls. Roll in additional sugar to coat. Place dough balls 2 inches apart on ungreased baking sheets. Bake until cookies are puffed and cracked on top and tester inserted into center comes out with some moist crumbs attached, about 12 minutes (do not overbake). Transfer cookies to racks and cool.

By the time Will got home I had cookies cooling on every available surface. I probably could have halved the recipe, but my office enjoyed the leftovers. It was time to dump the custard into the ice cream maker. According to my manufacturers instructions it should churn for 20-30 minutes. By minute 18 I was a tiny bit afraid the custard was going to pour out of the machine, it was forming so beautifully. I let it churn for about 24 minutes before I decided that, no seriously, we have to turn the machine off. As always it was a bit on the soft serve side the night I made it, but the true excitement took place the next day, after it had set in the freezer overnight. Cookie warmed and ice cream scooped, it was everything I had dreamed of all year long, but without the five minutes of explaining "No, you put the ice cream on the cookie" to a girl in a Miley Cirus tee shirt. Coffee and Cream and I are still friends though. They still make me REALLY fresh roasted coffee every time I'm in town. But as far as my very favorite autumn treat--that's now self served.

Before I sign off the week I'd like readers to know the my friend and reader of this blog Evan Reehl Ryer is part of an art show at Union Gallery at 359 Broadway. I went Friday night and it's got great pieces, so I encourage those in the area to check it out!

Carmel Disaster Averted, or Guest Blog #1

While I work on a secret project, a guest blogger has been brought in for this week's post. That's right, a ringer. What are you going to do about it? Ladies and gentlemen, my best friend and sometimes house guest, Stefanie.

Despite a lifelong friendship and eerily similar life experiences, my friendship with Heather looks more like two sides of a split personality than a typical sisterly bond. It's like a weird Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde situation but with more swear words. Heather enjoys building a stable committed life with clearly delineated short and long term goals. She is most in her element when she is cooking for people she loves and wearing vintage aprons. I, reflexively, am an eccentric book nerd, unpredictable and very much allergic to all things domestic and committed. I have been to a grocery store twice in the last year--once for work and once to look for the Michelle Obama edition of Vogue. So, while I genuinely adore that Heather cooks me food all the time, my involvement in the process of rendering the food edible is usually limited. Up until my most recent visit to her apartment in New York, the most complicated thing I did was eat the skin off some poultry at Christmas (duck or goose or some such water foul, whatever it was I remember toasting it a lot) and make sure we always finished the wine. My job was very simple and I would be remiss if I didn't tell you I was pretty fucking fabulous at it.

I planned on coming up to visit Heather for Labor Day weekend solely with the idea of reading and flipping through fashion magazines all weekend, and came prepared with a suitcase full of books and some essential travel items. My first night there Heather went into the kitchen to start this "Salted Carmel Ice Cream" concept, which she hadn't really sold me on yet and I laid down on the couch to read the selected poetry of D. H. Lawrence. In between poems I would poke my head in the kitchen to see if anything was yummy enough to start eating and provide my services as taste tester. Heather was actively engaged in the home made caramel process which involved a really big pan, medium heat and an absurd quantity of sugar. The sugar was melted, but seemed to be separated into one watery brown liquid with a molten deep brown lava center that kind of moved like old rubbery snot when you touched it. Heather kept poking at it with furrowed brow and stated "There isn't a picture with the recipe but I feel strongly that it shouldn't look like this." I agreed. We futzed with the goop for a while, trying to unstick it from the spoon she was using to stir "it." The recipe suggested shaking the pan in a swooping circular motion, but that was clearly not the answer (I think we only angered it) and stirring this substance seemed to some how defy my previous understanding of physics.

Eventually we made the executive decision to turn the heat up and hope to melt this situation into compliance, which under normal circumstances is why you don't want me anywhere near your stove. The maybe five times I have seriously cooked in my life, I turned the stove on high and burnt everything. With smoke. And fire. And the occasional explosion.

The sugar melted into a triumphant caramel and I began work on the custard which I assured Heather I wouldn't ruin because I had "seen Giada and Ina Garten do it like a million times." I think really she was just more focused on the caramel but for whatever reason I took over custard duty. Even though I knew better, I didn't really whisk while I poured the simmered milk into the egg, I was slightly more focused on talking. Heather eventually stepped in and took over the whisk operation, but it was too late. There was about four tablespoons of scrambled eggs left over in the sieve after straining. Despite a major loss in our ingredient amounts, we remained confident.

I gracefully bowed out of the cooking process and Heather moved onto a chicken while the custard chilled. While she hacked the neck off the chicken I yelled "Viva la revolution, off with their heads," painting my toenails bright iridescent fuchsia. I felt very much like a modern day Marie Antoinette, but with poultry. Heather seasoned the chicken and put it in the oven using her nifty new roasting pan that--from what she tells me--is totally awesome. If the the final product was any indicator to the pan's value, then you should all go get one, because the chicken was pretty awesome. (Ed. Note: It was the Caphalon with rack and baster, a wedding present from my lovely Aunt Donna)

Will was slightly self-deprecating about his mashed potatoes, which he claimed were lumpy. However, I thought they were fantastic, which is amazing because I think all things potato, including chips and fries, are gross. Maybe it was the lump that I needed all this time?

The ice cream turned out to be a really rich carmel soft serve. Less ice cream, more chilled syrup. I made the suggestion to Heather that it be served with lady fingers, turns out those are hard to find at 9 pm. Will obligingly went to the store for Nilla Wafers, and that turned out to be a fantastic save, because it's insanely good with cookies. So from what Heather tells me, she is now eating the Salted Caramel Ice cream as a dip with cookies and it's an arrangement she and Will are on board with.

Salted Carmel Ice Cream

Gourmet magazine, August 2009

Ingredients:
1/4 cups sugar, divided
2 1/4 cups heavy cream, divided
1/2 teaspoon flaky sea salt such as Maldon
1/2 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
1 cup whole milk
3 large eggs

Directions:
Heat 1 cup sugar in a dry 10-inch heavy skillet over medium heat, stirring with a fork to heat sugar evenly, until it starts to melt, then stop stirring and cook, swirling skillet occasionally so sugar melts evenly, until it is dark amber.

Add 1 1/4 cups cream (mixture will spatter) and cook, stirring, until all of caramel has dissolved. Transfer to a bowl and stir in sea salt and vanilla. Cool to room temperature.

Meanwhile, bring milk, remaining cup cream, and remaining 1/4 cup sugar just to a boil in a small heavy saucepan, stirring occasionally.
Lightly whisk eggs in a medium bowl, then add half of hot milk mixture in a slow stream, whisking constantly. Pour back into saucepan and cook over medium heat, stirring constantly with a wooden spoon, until custard coats back of spoon and registers 170°F on an instant-read thermometer (do not let boil). Pour custard through a fine-mesh sieve into a large bowl, then stir in cooled caramel.

Chill custard, stirring occasionally, until very cold, 3 to 6 hours. Freeze custard in ice cream maker (it will still be quite soft), then transfer to an airtight container and put in freezer to firm up.

Ed note: The next day Stef and I picnicked on Governor's Island, so I leave you with a lovely picture of Stef in front of the Statue of Liberty!

Ice Cream Test Kitchen Part 2

For those of you who have been waiting in eager anticipation since Monday, the exciting conclusion of the Great Ice Cream Experiment!

It was time for a new game plan. First off, I bought a big bag of normal sugar, to be used instead of the expensive organic stuff I usually keep on hand. If this was going to be done as often I suspected it might need to for it to be right, I didn't need to be spending extra money per batch just on the sugar. Second, I skipped the "basics" recipes, because they called for creating custard without egg yolks, which I suspect has a lot to do with creating a binding cream. If anyone has ever created a fairly solid ice cream without the yolk, let me know in the comments. I struggled a bit with recipes calling for whole vanilla beans, I didn't want to water down my custard by subbing in vanilla extract, but when I found whole beans it was like $10 for a vile of 3 beans. Serendipity smiled on me though, Megan, a girl I grew up with, shipped me "America's Test Kitchen Family Cookbook" as a wedding present. It came with a recipe for chocolate ice cream that, thank god, called for no vanilla bean.

I indulged a bit with a pricey half pound bar of chocolate for the custard because I learned long ago that all chocolates are not created equal and since this was the main flavoring element for the ice cream, I wanted it to be good. This custard was a lot more work then the peach had been. I had to heat the milk and cream to hot, but not boiling, melt the chocolate, but then cool it before I added the egg yolks and sugar, and add a cup of the milk mixture to the chocolate/egg mixture to "temper" it before I could combine the whole thing. So many precise instructions leave many, many places for it all to go horribly and irreversibly wrong. It's such a nice ice cream maker, I wanted to try my very best to make it not explode somehow. Luckily I managed to navigate my way through it without too much difficulty. After the custard chilled completely for three hours, it was the moment of truth, and, in the spirt of Princess Diana 161 (though way less funny), I am presenting an Epicurette in New York multi media first, so you can all see for yourself how it went.

I promise the videos will get better as I learn how A) the camera, and B) iMovie works. If you view the video in YouTube, you will notice the Epicurette In New York now has it's own, subscribeable YouTube Channel, for all future videos!

The next morning, after a night of freezing, it was even better, perfectly formed and scoopable ice cream!

I am a genius, an ice cream making goddess! This must be what Athena would feel like if she could make ice cream. Now I am ready to take on Salted Carmel Ice Cream! And this fall, Pumpkin Ice Cream! And Apple Cider Ice Cream! I'm not getting ahead of myself, right?

Ice Cream Test Kitchen

This summer I had the experience of a strange female ritual known as "The Wedding Shower." This is a party that your female friends and relatives throw you with the express purpose of giving you stuff. It's not like a birthday where there is at least the pretense that we are celebrating the day of someone's birth, this is a party where the entire idea is you show up and people give you stuff. Not only will they give you stuff, but you are instructed to sign up at your favorite stores and pick out stuff for these people to give you. People don't seem to understand why I can't wrap my brain around this concept. In the pressing task of picking out every piece of cookware I could ever desire, I had settled my heart on a little gadget known as the Cuisinart Ice Cream maker, and after two solid weeks of 90 degree heat trapped in the 5 miles of concrete known as New York City, imagine my delight sitting in my soon to be mother-in-law's living room as I unwrapped the box holding my salvation. I made arrangements to bring it back with me to New York right away.

At first I excitedly flipped through August's Gourmet magazine, planning a dreamy Salted Carmel as my very first recipe. Then I remembered the debacle of the slow cooker when I tried to apply recipes I wasn't ready for to a device I wasn't terribly familiar with, and decided maybe I should start with something very simple. I chose a recipe that came in the ice cream maker's instruction book, a simple vanilla. Regular readers of this blog know how terrible I am at "scaling back." Before long I discovered the "Variations" section of the manual. Dun dun dun. The Peaches and Cream variation sounded exceedingly simple. My mind drifted to my neighborhood's weekly farmers market and all the lovely August peaches waiting for me there. And it really wasn't much more work than the "Simple Vanilla." I would be fine, right?

The first thing one is to do with a new Ice Cream maker is freeze the mixing bowl. I did this right away and with much excitement. The bowl, so the instructions read, has liquid inside that needs to freeze solid. When removed from the freezer, there should be no sloshing noises. At 10:00 the morning I had decided to make my first ice cream the realization hit me. I had never cleaned the bowl. I had opened the box, removed the label, and shoved it in the freezer. "Shit, shit, shit" I muttered, as I removed the bowl. "Shit!" I exclaimed, as my sponge froze to the side of the frosty bowl. A little rincing and defrosting later I got the bowl cleaned and back in the freezer. "Slosh" went the bowl. But I didn't need it for about 2 to 3 hours. It would be ready by then, right?

The variation that was going to turn my simple vanilla ice cream into peaches and cream ice cream involved marinating the peaches in lemon juice and sugar, draining out the juice and adding it to the vanilla custard. The peaches themselves would be added in the last five minutes of ice cream making. I thought it odd that I was adding this juice without reducing any of the liquid in the original custard, but that's what the instructions said. At 1 p.m. I removed the bowl and shook it. "Slosh" went the bowl. I looked at my mixed ingredients. I decided the bowl felt pretty cold to me, and besides, there was no turning back now. On went the machine and in went the custard. I set the timer for 25 minutes and left my new favorite toy to its devices (what is it with me and puns lately?) 25 minutes later I peeked in and found.... soup. No thickening, no freezing, just soupy cream, mocking me. It happened to be another 90 degree day. It happened that I had spent much of the afternoon trying to figure out the nexus that is New York real estate in my attempt to secure an apartment with a dishwasher. It happened that my patience had worn particularly thin. I dumped the soupy custard in a tupperware and threw it in the fridge. I washed out the bowl and crammed it in the very back of my freezer. "Slosh" went the bowl. It earned it a very dark look.

That night I got home and shook it again. "Slosh" went the bowl.

The next morning I got it out and gave it a shake "Slosh" went the bowl.

I headed off to work leaving Will with the task of figuring out why our freezer hated me. While there was no dial in the freezer, he did find one in the fridge and turned it up from 3 to 5. When I got home that night and gave the bowl a shake... there was a tiny noise that signified a particle or two might still be loose, but I felt pretty confidant the bowl fit the description of frozen. I rejoiced, set up the maker, and got the custard back out of the fridge. Machine running, custard poured in, I set the timer for 25 minutes and left it alone. Well, I might have stared at it. A little. 25 minutes later it was a bit more congealed, but still basically soup. Upon closer inspection of the recipe, I noted that it's title was actually "Peaches and Cream" and not "Peaches and Cream Ice Cream." Hmmmmm. Will and I sat down with our peaches floating in a rather delectable cream, and I threw the rest in the freezer. The next day it had frozen into a very tasty solid, though still a bit ice crystally to be considered proper ice cream. Experiment #1 was chalked up to be a failure, albeit a delicious one.

I buckled down to do some research. I realized I really had no idea what the ice cream was supposed to look like when it came out of the machine, as I had never seen anyone use one before. I hoped onto "The YouTube" to see if anyone had posted a video of ice cream creation. It was then, reader, that I found the best thing the internet has to offer. A home chef who has been making videos of herself cooking for years. She goes under the handle of Princess Diana 161. She is from Jersey. I mean, she is REALLY from Jersey. And about five seconds in, in the most perfect Jersey accent ever, she uttered the phrase "OK, you guys know, I'm a QVC whore." I was hooked.

Best. Video. Ever. Am I right? And in addition to the wonderful entertainment this brought me, I also learned that when done correctly completed ice cream would end up looking like soft serve, but not soup. Planning was going to be required if I was going to do this right.

To be continued.... on Friday. Stay tuned!