I’ve mentioned previously that I’m not a classic sweet-tooth. I enjoy the presence of sugars – natural and not-so-natural – in certain foods. A little sugar in a tomato sauce, for example, or maybe in some Nigerian black beans. But I am not an ardent chocolate biscuit fan. I take my tea with no more than half a sugar. But what I love, what I have always loved, no ifs, half portions or “go on then”s, is ice cream. I love the stuff.
Ice cream makes me happy. Have you ever scratched behind the ear of a dog and watched their hind leg spasm in pleasure? I hate to liken myself to a creature that willfully eats its own vomit, but um, I’ve been known to tap my foot in ecstasy upon the consumption of ice cream. Ice cream makes things feel like a special occasion, like it’s a birthday, a celebration, an important thing to be marked. It’s a feeling that’s readily available in your pyjamas, a nice frock, or just in your jeans.
Sweet dreams are made of this...
When I was 17, I worked for several months at a cookies and ice cream parlour in the heart of tourist London. We sold about 18 types of cookie, and very specifically, 32 types of ice cream. I soon tired of the cookies, delicious though they were, but I never, ever tired of the ice cream. Each freezer compartment had a little pot of disposable tester spoons, ostensibly there to assist customers in making their final selections. Being a fim believer in equal opportunities and excellent customer service, I operated a strict “one for you, one for me” system. I got through a lot of ice cream in those months. I recently went past my old workplace and they were still in business, so I can’t have dented profits that much.
A recent and very sad development for me has been an increasing intolerance to dairy products. Sensibly, I’m cutting back accordingly – for example, I like cheese but unless I’m experiencing a deep craving, will forgo it for the sake of common sense and a cramp-free evening. I have no such reservations with ice cream. I will near-inhale a pint of vanilla, Caramel Chew Chew or Cookie Dough quite happily, throwing caution to the wind as I spoon the icy ambrosia into my mouth. Minutes later with my face sticky and my tummy in knots, I regret my rash beahviour. But I know I will soon have the freezer light on my face as I dig around for another helping…
Ice cream makes life better. If it didn’t exist someone would have to invent it. Thankfully for me, that burden of expectation has been taken off my shoulders. We have ice cream. We have life.
5 Comments
The first thing I ever said I wanted to be when I grew up was an ice cream lady and have my own van. (I think I was bedazzled by the Glaswegian women who served ice cream with a no shit attitude and called you ‘hen’…)
Therefore it was fitting that my first ever paid job involving serving ice cream, mainly for milkshakes, but I became a dab hand at sundaes and banana splits too. Unfortunately for me, spending the tail end of my teens up to my armpit in a freezer covered in sticky goo, did dent my love of ice cream somewhat and I always forget how much I like it til I have it.
This may be why after almost a decade in London I haven’t been to Marine Ices yet!
Ice cream is such a likeable thing, isn’t it? I mean, it makes everybody happy. Here in Maine (where cows outnumber people by 10-1), they do amazing creamy ice cream. Right outside the legendary L.L. Bean store in Freeport (open 24 hours a day, 365 days a year!) is one of the original Ben & Jerry’s ice cream stands. And I know, you’re thinking “Yeah, yeah, I can get B & J in Tesco’s, whatever, Miss Maine.” But! They sell dozens of flavours that you can’t buy by the tub, like chocolate-peanut butter, and coconut 7-layer bar ice cream, to name but two. THEY ARE AMAZING. Like, weep-quietly-with-with-ecstasy-as-you-eat amazing.
When you come visit me here one day, I will take you. And then we’ll go have a nice little nap in the tent section of L.L. Bean. Bliss.
So… a good friend of mine actually owns an industrial ice cream maker and makes it from scratch – malted milk with solid milk chocolate balls (heh) and Maltesers, salted caramel (which I was advised by her boyfriend to measure out into a bowl and not eat from the tub – he was so right), fig, caramelised pear – SO GOOD.
My mother also makes decent ice cream – strawberry, lemon curd and chestnut are her specialities.
My own freezer right now contains a tub of watermelon and strawberries, pureed with a little sugar and 2 tubs of Ben & Jerry’s, because it’s on special offer this week.
@ Nikky: You’re a pretty awesome person. But I can’t help feel that as an ice cream lady, you would be maxed out on The Awesome. PS: Marine Ices? Pretty frickin’ marvellous!
@ Adriana: I can’t hate you, even as you put these tantalising details of B + J proximity on my blog… ::Starts researching flights to Maine::
@ Elly: Wait, your Ma makes jam AND ice cream? Were all your childhood birthday parties awesome? Also, can I curl up inside your freezer? Sounds AMAZEBALLS.
Hi YorubaGirl,
Have you had ice cream @ cactus in Lagos? Well, if you visit Lagos, this place has the best ice cream I’ve tasted, honestly, it is a MUST for any ice-cream lover. (I have no marketing interest for cactus btw)
I’m so similar, could do without sweet things almost always, but ice creeeeeeammm