Happy birthday.
You've been talking about getting a Ninja クリーミー(ニ) for months. Naturally, the closest thing to a Creami we could actually use here turned out to be another slightly cooked Japanese appliance. So finally, you can make all the high-protein ice cream you want, which is what matters. And without burning your house down.
The honey is really the main present. I hand picked six types, with the journey starting from Britain and ending in Japan. From floral, citrusy and aromatic to dark and malty, landing finally at a special wild honey made by the untameable native Japanese honeybee, the Apis cerana japonica.
Inside this book is a little collection of recipes curated around each honey, so every one gets to be the main event. They're all healthy-ish, which means we can eat loads of ice cream while pretending we're being good.
ビラちゃん
It works like the Creami. It doesn't churn like a normal ice cream maker. You freeze a tub solid, then shave the frozen block into something creamy in about a minute. That's how you can make that low-fat, high-protein ice cream come out smooth instead of icy.
Eat it straight away for soft-serve texture, or put it back in the freezer for 20–30 min if you want it firmer to scoop.
Everything here is easy to get in Japan. The honeys you already have.
Spring flowers from across the British countryside: roadside dandelions, hawthorn frothing in the hedgerows, sycamore, and the sudden yellow of rapeseed fields. It's the gentlest honey in the box, pale and silky and softly floral, tasting of the first warm weeks of the year. Good on more or less everything.
Gathered from the late-summer heather in the sheltered glens and upland moors of the eastern Highlands, where the bees work the purple ling. Heather makes a honey unlike any other: thick and almost jelly-like, deep amber, with a smoky, caramel warmth and a faintly bittersweet edge. A wild, windswept kind of sweetness.
Pressed on the Bărăgan, the great sun-baked steppe of southern Romania, where whole fields turn to follow the same sun. The honey keeps that brightness: golden, warmly fragrant, with a big, full sweetness. It crystallises quickly into soft, spoonable grains, which is just what sunflower honey does.
From the 里山, the old farmed hill-country where Japan's villages give way to the mountains, where buckwheat is sown late and flowers white across the fields in autumn. The strange part: those white blooms give an almost-black honey, thick and mineral, tasting of molasses, malt and dark earth. Iron-rich and completely its own thing. Save it for cocoa and coffee, where it turns bold instead of blunt.
From the longan orchards of southern Taiwan, the fruit whose name means "dragon's eye." The bees work its little cream blossoms, and the honey comes out dark amber and heady: fruity and malty, with an aroma like Earl Grey and a finish someone once put next to red wine. The most grown-up honey in the box, and the reason a coffee recipe is waiting for it.
It's made by the 日本蜜蜂, Japan's native honeybee: a different, wild species from the Western honeybee that makes almost all the world's honey. It's incredibly rare. The bees can't be farmed, so keepers leave empty hives out in the mountains and hope a wild colony decides to move in. It's harvested only once a year, and hardly anyone makes it.
This jar comes from the wildflowers on the slopes of sacred 剣山. Because the bees are wild and forage a hundred different flowers, every batch is different and can't be replicated. This exact honey can never be made again.
Blend everything smooth. Rest in the fridge 1–2 hrs. Freeze 24 hrs. Thaw 5–10 min, spin, add a splash of milk and re-spin if crumbly.
Fold in a few berries or a square of dark chocolate after the first spin.
Blend smooth (the oats too). Rest 1–2 hrs so the oats soften. Freeze 24 hrs. Thaw 5–10 min, spin, splash of milk and re-spin if needed.
Tastes like a cold oat cookie. Toast the oats first for more of a flapjack flavour.
Whisk the kinako in first so it doesn't clump, then blend everything smooth. Rest 1–2 hrs. Freeze 24 hrs. Thaw 5–10 min, spin, splash of milk and re-spin if crumbly.
Golden sunflower honey and toasty kinako. Like frozen kinako mochi, without the guilt.
Blend smooth. Rest 1–2 hrs. Freeze 24 hrs. Thaw 5–10 min, spin, splash of milk and re-spin if crumbly.
Soba honey is intense on its own, but cocoa and coffee turn it into a dark mocha. Unbelievable, and still healthy.
Dissolve the coffee first. Blend everything smooth. Rest 1–2 hrs. Freeze 24 hrs. Thaw 5–10 min, spin, splash of milk and re-spin if needed.
Longan honey already tastes a little of coffee, so the two play together. Barely tastes like a diet.
Blend gently (don't overheat it). Rest 1–2 hrs. Freeze 24 hrs. Thaw 5–10 min, spin, tiny splash of milk and re-spin if crumbly.
Eat it soft, straight after spinning; the honey keeps it from ever setting hard.
Make one plain base, split it between the cups, and stir a different honey into each. Freeze, spin, and line them up. Six honeys, side by side, each tasting of somewhere else entirely.
Light to dark is the nicest way through them, with the wild native-bee honey last of all or on its own.