With Sprinkles on Top
an alternative social situation
It’s straight-up science that ice cream makes you happy. Bona fide scientists fed spoonfuls of vanilla ice cream to folks hooked up to a functional MRI machine. Upon the ice cream hitting the tongue their brains’ happy spots lit up. (Sure, it was a handful of research assistants, but still.)
Before processed foods and Ozempic, back in our hunter/gatherer days our bodies needed a way to let our brains know that foods with sugar and fat are high in calories. Us way-back-when humans couldn’t always easily find food, so high caloric food was a big deal. Our primitive lizard/monkey brains responded to those foods by dosing us with happy chemicals, thus inspiring us to eat more of those things, thus keeping us alive. That part of our brains doesn’t know that food is way more plentiful right now, so hasn’t adapted. So, yay for us.
The only sure fire way to make ice cream a happier occasion is to enjoy it with your besties. I am making a case for the ice cream hang.
It’s like meeting for a coffee or a beer, but waaaaay more fun.
A new ice cream place opened up near my house. (I’m also going to make a case to bring back the term parlor to describe a business whose sole purpose is selling ice cream). There’s a locally famous, over-hyped ice cream parlor downtown. I don’t love it, it’s out of my way, and the line is always really long. I can’t be bothered. There’s a Ben & Jerry’s, but I can get that at Kroger.
The new place is local-local. They make the ice cream, soft serve, and gelato in house. Since the whole world is all about Paris right now, I’m going to cop their term glacier, because saying “the ice cream chef” doesn’t sound so sweet.
I’ve spied the glacier sampling peaches freshly delivered from a local farm.
This new place has inspired my friends and me to meet up for ice cream on the regular. It’s a low buy-in activity. It won’t take up a whole evening and we can squeeze it in after dinner. Sampling, ordering, and eating ice cream takes up a fraction of the time (and money) of a movie. The ice cream hang doesn’t require the decision making of a dinner out (do we want noodles or pizza? Which noodles or which pizza?), and comes with none of the baggage of a bar (just one more round…who is that weird guy looking at you…I forgot to eat dinner and that drink went straight to my head).
Conversation around ice cream is rarely negative or sad. Even saying the word “ice cream” turns your mouth up into a smile. I’ve met one person in my life who didn’t like ice cream and he was a miserable, horrible human.
I knew a man who vowed that it makes no difference how full you are after a meal, there is always room for ice cream. It melts, he asserts, and fills in any empty places in your stomach.
The ice cream hang doesn’t require a fancy local ice cream shop. Gas station ice cream is perfectly acceptable, (I’m a Drumstick girl, but would also consider a chocolate eclair bar). I’m not ruling out eating straight out of a tub of Ben and Jerry’s in the Publix parking lot, either. It’s about the ice cream and the friend(s).
For our purposes, I use “ice cream” as a blanket term for any frozen confection. For the lactose intolerant, calorie-conscious, and vegans: sorbet and non-dairy ice creams count. Dippin’ Dots, however, don’t count. They’re gross and not at all ice cream.
So here is your assignment:
Make a date for an ice cream hang with a friend. Specifically, a friend you don’t get to see as often as you’d like. Make it a no fuss event. Perhaps it starts with a text: Hey, you wanna meet for ice cream sometime this week?
Please don’t forget the sprinkles.
NB: I’m probably not having an ice cream hang this week because I’m in the path of Debby and expecting 20 inches of rain.
NB: recent faves: Ferraro-roche gelato, coffee chocolate-chip ice cream, cherry bomb (dark chocolate & cherries). Last month I had the best ice cream ever of all time: dark chocolate chunk from Arethusa Dairy (the people responsible for the best cheese in America).
Bonus!!!
This conversation happened as I was about to send this column out:
I host an annual ice cream social and there is no easier, happier party. No cooking, simple equipment, minimal cleanup, and no one ever goes away saying God, I hate ice cream, what a terrible time. (I mean obvs you provide for those who can't eat dairy.)
Meeting for ice cream, like it.