An Ode to Ice Cream

It’s summertime, which means that it is the perfect time of year to eat ice cream! In fact, we christened this season just last Saturday evening with an impromptu trip to our local Bruster’s where I unapologetically ate this…

A waffle cone with a scoop of banana nut bread and a scoop of chocolate peanut butter chip ice cream.

It was perfection.

The ice cream, yes. But more than that, my husband and I managed to persuade our teenager to emerge from her room and spend time with us. On a Saturday night. After a round of “who plays D.J.?” in the car, we then sat eating our ice cream, delight slathered on all our faces as we licked and scooped our delicious treats.

These summertime evening trips to Bruster’s have become some of my favorite family moments. We don’t do it often, but when we do, I am always so thankful for the simple moments together. We are making memories.

I have a lot of memories around ice cream.

Every year when the weather turns warm and I have my first scoop of ice cream, I always reminisce about summer evenings I spent eating ice cream on my grandparents’ screened in porch.

I was just a little girl – maybe 6 or 7 years old – but I can still hear the locusts buzzing and see the lightning bugs glowing on the other side of the screen. I can feel my clean, wet hair dripping down my back after my evening bath and feel the soft pills of my Disney character nightgown on my skin.

Grandpa would be sitting in his corner chair eating a bowl of corn flakes waiting for the 10 p.m. news, and Grandma would let me have a bowl of ice cream before bed.

She always had one of two kinds in her freezer: “chip chocolate” or “checkerboard” ice cream (you know, the vanilla and orange sherbet version).

I used to think she was silly calling it “chip chocolate” ice cream. I mean, everyone knows it is “chocolate chip” ice cream. But now in my wiser years, I wonder if maybe she called it that because it made her me laugh and correct her. Even now, I cannot look at a container of chocolate chip ice cream without thinking of her.

My precious grandparents have been gone from this earth for many years now, but I was feeling sentimental last week, so I made my own batch of “chip chocolate” ice cream. I’m sure it won’t be as good as I remember Grandma’s tasting, but I am sure it will make me smile when I have a bowl.

Just like I hope my daughter smiles when she takes her children out for ice cream on a summer Saturday night.