Share this story
Close X
Switch to Desktop Site

Our family's ice-cream legacy

From my parents to my children, ice cream has always provided us an excuse to bond.

About these ads

Ice cream, for me, has always been an essential part of life. I still can taste my grandmother's apple and peach pies, warm from the oven and topped with a huge scoop of vanilla. I still remember the tinkle of the bells on the door of the local ice-cream shop, where my older sister first introduced me to a tin-roof sundae, served in a shiny silver parfait glass, its tall spoon nearly too long for my grasp. Sitting on the orange stools in the shop, we bonded over hot fudge and peanuts. Early on, I learned that ice cream was something truly special – a sweet gift to be shared with those we love.

Tall chocolate shakes always remind me of Martin's, a frozen-custard stand that was my childhood reward for successful piano and violin lessons. "Let's just stop by the Tastee-Freez," Mom would say. "I think we deserve a shake."

It was Dad who upped the ante a bit, developing my discerning taste for chocolate malts. "You should try a malt," he advised. "When I was a kid they cost five cents extra." That summer, Dad and I frequented a local diner where thick, homemade malts complemented our cheeseburgers and fries. After lunch, I always felt full of good food and family.

Ice cream, such a cool confection, has always left me feeling strangely warm inside.

As a teenager, ice cream meant date nights when I shocked more than one boyfriend by ordering a peanut-butter-cup-supreme sundae and then eating every last decadent spoonful.

My cousin and I toured New England colleges, discovering that Ben & Jerry's made an excellent dinner choice. Why eat meat and vegetables when we could have Rocky Road? Dubbing our trip "The Dairy Tour," we ate ice-cream dinners for a week, scooping up Cherry Garcia and Chunky Monkey between Ivy League visits.


Page:   1   |   2

Follow Stories Like This
Get the Monitor stories you care about delivered to your inbox.