#32: Ice Cream Cone

I am sad to admit that no food experience has excited me as much lately as my first ice cream cone of spring. There comes a time in the city when, although winter continues to cling on, more and more ice cream trucks appear on each corner. And I think everyone has that moment, when there is a rare break in the cold and a sunny day comes, when that Mr. Softie jingle becomes less annoying and more... alluring. When that smiling ice cream cone man becomes less creepy and more... enticing. When they finally. give. in. (No? That’s just me? ok then).

Well that definitely was me this past Monday. After a long day of being an adult at work I got my vanilla swirl with rainbow sprinkles, and sat on the promenade in short sleeves to appreciate the fact that the sun was still out, and the days were getting longer (the fact that’s its been pouring rain and chilly the rest of the week only slightly mars this memory).

And yes, here I go again proclaiming something else nationally ubiquitous is a particularly NY thing… but c’mon ice cream trucks? Maybe its because every day of every summer I spent at my Oma’s in Queens growing up, Steve the-ice-cream-man (official surname) would ring his bell, and every kid from the block would run out in a frenzy waiving their crumpled dollar bills. My favorite at the time was a particularly gross concoction, the face of a man on a stick, who had green ice cream skin, chocolate hair, and a gumball nose that disintegrated into a chalky powder every time I ate it. No no, I am much more sophisticated now. Mr. Softee (spelled wrong to confuse kids). Kustard King (spelled wrong for the sake of….I was going to say alliteration but even that’s not true). Whatever the ice cream truck you choose, I urge you to enjoy the stale cone, the slightly old tasting sprinkles and of course, some soft serve to usher in the change of season.

ps. I could include a link for Mr. Softee but I don't think it'd be about ice cream.