July is national ice cream month. This is a true fact. I read it on a sign at Grinders (restaurant chain in Canton area), and the internet confirms it. In honor of this magnificent celebration, I decided to document all of the ice cream that I have eaten this past week-ish. And so, as promised, here are the results.
Day 1: I begin with a cherry (yeah, just plain cherry) Blizzard from Dairy Queen. Meduim sized. I asked the guy behind the counter if he thought that ordering a Blizzard with just cherry sauce in it was weird, and he said, “I’ve seen weirder.” Well thank goodness.
Day 2: Since I do not finish the entire Blizzard on the first day, I finish it the following day. It isn’t quite as good after being frozen, but ice cream is ice cream, you know.
Day 3: One of those individual-sized ice cream cake cups. Also from Dairy Queen.
Day 4: This is a bowl of Pierre’s Homestyle Cupcake flavor ice cream. It tastes just like confetti cake. Delicious.
Day 5: My very favorite ice cream from my very favorite place—Stow Cone! Vanilla soft serve with rainbow sprinkles in a dish. When I went there, I forgot that they only take cash and I had no bills on me whatsoever, but I managed to squeeze out the $2.40 in change. It was sad, but quite a triumph. Quite an amazing triumph indeed.
Day 6: Betsy, Myriam and I go to Italian Fest in Cuyahoga Falls. There is a Stoddard’s truck. This, of course, is the natural result: one pistachio cone (Betsy), one vanilla cone (Myriam), and one vanilla cup (me), all with rainbow sprinkles. Like a boss.
(Photos courtesy of Betsy)
Day 7: Miraculously, there was no ice cream eaten on day 7. But there was birthday cake for my brother Greg.
Day 8: The last ice cream of the documentation—from Rita’s in the Squirrel Hill district of Pittsburgh. Greg, John, and I stopped there during our visit. Once again, the unfailing vanilla with sprinkles.
So…
One very important question has already been asked by my mother: “Is this normally how much you eat or is this just for the special occasion?” John’s response to her question: “This isn’t that far off.” He is right. Damn it feels good to be a gangsta.