I Scream

The ice cream at the Bristol Ren Faire is sooo yummy. (Photo credit: Chuck Bennorth)

I scream.

You scream.

We all scream

for ice cream.

The night before Sierra and I left Saint George, Utah, the kids and I went out for ice cream. Correction: we went out for frozen custard. Nielsen's frozen custard is out-of-this-world- amazing. 

Nielsen's Frozen Custard has become a tradition for us when we're all in Saint George, Utah.

My daughter-in-law and I love their lemon custard. My three kids always get something cherry-based, and add yummy things like brownies or almonds or Oreos to it. That night I ordered a concrete mixer (that's their version of the DQ Blizzard) of chocolate, coconut, and caramel. Think Samoa Girl Scout Cookies as an ice cream. To die for. 

Sierra came to Illinois to spend a week with Chuck and me. Our first night together, Chuck took us to our favorite Mexican restaurant in Wheaton, El Zarape, and then out to Geneva to Graham's. Graham's serves two things: chocolates and ice cream. Does Chuck know his girls, or what? The man is always finding ways to score bonus points.

We spent Tuesday in downtown Chicago, and somehow managed to eat Sierra's other favorite food at lunch AND supper: Chicago-style hot dogs. No ice cream for us that day. Yes, that seems noteworthy.

After we did a little thrift store shopping Wednesday, I asked Sierra, "Do you want to go to Graham's for lunch?" 

A sly smile spread across Sierra's face. "Eat dessert first," was her answer. 

"Life's short," I reminded.

So we had ice cream for lunch. And for dessert, we shared a Skälies chocolate (A chocolate-covered concoction of caramel, coconut, and cashews). 

Don't worry; we ate something nutritious at the Little Traveler just down the street later that afternoon, that is, after we sampled every yummy dip and spread that they offered in their pantry section. We shared a Little Traveler sampler plate of three small sandwiches at the darling bistro in the middle of the store. Nothing too heavy for us; we might have to have room for more ice cream later. 

When we went to the Bristol Renaissance Faire Saturday, Chuck asked us what we wanted for lunch. There are so many tempting foods at faire: turkey legs, BBQ sandwiches, shepherd's pie, and just about any food you can imagine, served on a stick. 

With a quick glance at each other, we nodded, and I spoke for us both, "Ice cream!" He was not surprised. We decided on the chocolate crèpe with strawberry ice cream, chocolate syrup, whipped topping, and fresh strawberries. Chuck, the sensible one in the bunch, enjoyed his shepherd's pie.

Chocolate Crepe with Strawberries and Ice Cream.

Later, he offered to buy us a snack. We could have had large, salty pretzels, jerky, corn on the cob, chocolate-covered Key Lime pie or cheesecake, or fried potatoes. Nah. We just wanted ice cream. We each ordered a waffle cone with two flavors of ice cream. And we enjoyed every single bite.

Sunday, Chuck and I returned to the Ren faire, and Sierra flew back to Salt Lake City. Around noon, all of the lines for BBQ pork or beef, and spicy chicken thighs were a mile long.

Chuck asked, "Do you want to get ice cream now, and lunch later when the lines die down?" I love the way that man thinks. He didn't have to ask me twice.

I snapped a quick pic of our ice cream, and sent it to Sierra with the caption: "Lunch time. We miss you."

When Monday came, I resolved to strive for a more nutritious diet, and also promised myself that I would resist ice cream for awhile. My sweet memories will have to tide me over until I can reprogram myself to make ice cream a special treat, instead of a steady staple in my daily meal plan.

I scream. 

You scream.

We all scream for ice cream.

I just think some of us scream a little louder and more often than others.

Photo credit: Chuck Bennorth