I remember the first time I had Rocky Road ice cream.
I was probably ten or eleven years old, and right away I thought there was too much crap going on. Too many textures and too many flavors competing against each other.
I came from a family that kept ice cream simple. One flavor in the bowl and maybe one topping on top.
My mom was a chocolate ice cream person. Her mom, my Gramma in Indianapolis, was strictly vanilla. The Oldman loved New York Cherry or Pralines and Cream. I became a mint chocolate chip guy, followed closely by butter pecan.
Let us take this discussion a step further. The battle between soft serve, traditional ice cream and gelato.
When I do soft serve, I do the combination twist, vanilla and chocolate swirled together with a chocolate dip top. In our neighborhood we have the little hole-in-the-wall in Oak Park, Polar Bear in North Riverside and Highland Queen west of Mannheim Road toward Hinsdale.
When I’m feeling nostalgic for ice cream, I drive up to Petersen’s in Oak Park or Margie’s Candies in the city.
Recently, I was introduced to a Boston Cream shake.
I never seemed interested in one because I dislike almost everything associated with Boston. Outside of Larry Bird and Marky Mark, Boston blows. My hatred with Boston has shortchanged me out of this delicacy well into my post-middle age years.
Think of being involved in a threesome, but instead of a blonde and a redhead, it is a milkshake with a hot fudge sundae plopped right on top.
You need a straw for the shake and a spoon for the sundae. The Chalkheads that are priests are expecting to hear a confession now.
Gelato, however, is the Cadillac of the creamery world. My go-to gelato is pistachio. Whenever I have gelato, I’m usually with an Italian.
Nothing pairs better with gelato than an espresso, very adult stuff. Gelato requires a refined palate and enough patience to slow down and enjoy what life has brought you. Don’t rush a gelato…
Today may be National Rocky Road Day, but the chalkboard also says sunshine and 76 degrees. That sounds pretty close to perfect.
Grab someone you love and go get some ice cream. Soft serve, traditional or gelato. A bowl, a cone, a malted or a sundae. It doesn’t matter, just treat yourself.
Go grab the Boston cream shake, but leave my dirty mind out of it.
The older I get, the more I realize life doesn’t need nearly as much Rocky Road as we think it does. Most days are better when they are kept simple.
A little sunshine.
A little conversation. Someone you care about sitting across from you, and something cold melting faster than you can eat it.
There is nothing but astonishment and gusto when ice cream is involved.
