mercredi, août 03, 2005

it's like licking velvet

After hearing Harry talk wistfully about frozen custard, I pricked up my ears when I heard the words "frozen custard" on NPR last weekend.

Tonight, I drove to Poway with Harry, hoping to surprise him with frozen custard. But for the second time today, things didn't go according to plan: the shop was closed. And I'll have to take it on faith that eating frozen custard really is like "licking smooth, creamy velvet." The Sticky Joys of Frozen Custard
One of summer's greatest pleasures is purely sensual. It tastes like the county fair and the beach, the picnic and the park. It's a great, great Amerian classic of small Midwestern towns, and yet because it's hard to make, it's a rare treat. It's frozen custard. You may think you've seen frozen custard, but what you more likely saw was gold, old-fashioned, swirly soft-serve ice cream. Frozen custard is something completely different.

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