The Break Up

The Break Up

It is no secret that I have had a long standing love affair with Cold Stone Creamery’s Cake Batter Ice cream. It was my crack.

I used to get excited just thinking about it. My mouth would start to salivate the second I walked into the joint, knowing what goodness was coming. Sometimes I would think “Should I get something else?” Then, of course, I would come to my senses and remember never to deviate when it comes to cake batter ice cream. Cake Batter ice cream with cookie dough, brownie and fudge. A most magical concoction.

I would watch the employee as they were scooping and hope they weren’t chintzy with the topping because that could screw everything up.

And then after I got it, time would stop for a few minutes during that first bite. There was a party in my mouth with fireworks and live music and exclamation points and DELICIOUSNESS! And moaning. Always moaning.

The shit was good, all right?

So, I haven’t had any ice cream (or any dairy) since January and quite honestly hadn’t missed it. People have asked me “Don’t you miss ice cream?” And my honest answer was “No”, because I didn’t really.

A few days ago, because it’s hot as hell here in Colorado, I gathered the kids to go get ice cream. Driving to Cold Stone, I remembered my old friend cake batter.

I thought “Maybe I’ll get some, to see if it is as delicious as I remember.” I think, more than anything,  I was craving that quick hit of elation that cake batter had given me in the past.

The kids picked out the flavors they wanted, I ordered some for Peter (cake batter ice cream, cookie dough, brownie and caramel)  and I gave the guy my order. I asked for a lid so I could eat it at home with Peter.

I got home, put all of my stuff down, took out the cup of ice cream, and dug in.

No fireworks. No live music. Not one exclamation point. No moaning.

Nothing.

It was fucking gross and I couldn’t get it out my mouth fast enough.

Thinking there HAD to be a mistake, I took another bite. A chunky one, filled with magical bits of brownie and cookie dough.

Nope.

Still gross.

I look over at Peter who is eating his ice cream.

“Honey, mine doesn’t taste good. Is yours good?”

With a big bite in his mouth, he replies “You’re crazy. This is fucking great!”

I looked down at my cup, put the top back on it and put it in the freezer.

(sad trombone)

I have to admit, there was a wave of sadness. Something that once made me so so happy, now leaves me repulsed.

It’s fascinating to know that my taste buds and body chemistry have readjusted to a life without dairy. I actually had to go brush my teeth to get the mucusy dairy coating I felt on my tongue off.

On the plus side, now I know! Cake batter and I are through. There will be no wondering about “the one that got away.”

I have moved on to my new best friend, Rice Dream Pies. MmmmMm. Mint is the best.