Gourmet setback: Ben can no longer eat foods with milk. He can sing “Ice Cream” to just about any melody, but the real thing (along with butter and cheese) are now said to be “things we don’t need to get today.”
As an ice cream and sorbet aficonada, I found this heartbreaking. My ideal teenage breakfast was sitting down at the kitchen table with a brick of heavenly hash and a teaspoon. College brought Herrell’s chocolate pudding, and I became hooked on the good stuff.
I used to plan trips to Boston around Tosci’s, and the memory of a gorgeous ruby plum sorbet. Creamsicle in a cup with a full, tangy mango sorbet and luscious, pillowy vanilla. Whining about about the scarceness of good ice cream places in my new home (not unlike the pizza lament, though pizza is a quantity and quality issue here) left me jonesing.
When pregnant, I couldn’t even look at the aisle in the market. Too rich, too sweet, too much. Then out came Ben, and soon I was back to dreaming of a dish in December. (Ben had his first sorbet – cassis – in Denmark in July 2005 and first trip to Rancatore’s on New Year’s Eve, 2005.)
Now what? Research, of course!
We’ve tried a range of soycreams, sticking pretty much to vanilla as Ben’s’ not quite ready for chocolate, and vanilla mixes well with the more flavorful sorbets. I’ll have reviews in an upcoming post.