There’s something completely backwards about me that weirds hubby out. When the temperature drops I reach for the coldest snack in the house: ice cream. Down south, in summer, while it’s well into the 98°F daily average, ice cream becomes too heavy to eat. Not that I’m a lame duck and can’t possibly lift the container out of the freezer, no I mean you can taste that it’s heavy, fat laden, creamy delicious… uh anywho.
Maybe it’s because 80% of the time back home, there was snow or ice everywhere. I needed more calories just for shivering at the LRT station. The best part was, I’ve found out now that I’ve been in Texas a while, ice cream didn’t melt on the way home from the store. If you weren’t careful and threw it in the back of your pickup it might have fused itself to the bare metal belly of the box.
This strange connection I have to ice-cold white fluff goes all the way back to when I was little. I got into a serious fight with my sibling over a spoon because we were sharing a bowl of vanilla ice cream. If we were lucky enough to have Neapolitan, all that was left was the sad strip of vanilla. We routinely scavenged granny’s freezer during our visits, she kept a small container or box on hand for her grand kids, along with stale cones. Pink stale cones.
Thankfully, we can afford a small quantity of high quality ice cream these days. Any flavour without nuts is welcome to our freezer, no matter what the weather is doing outside. I made this sundae with a wedge of flourless chocolate cake, banana, cookie swirl vanilla ice cream and caramel sauce. Heaven.