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Not a very exciting title but then again I thought it would be the kind of thing someone might type into a search engine and it lays it out the way it is.

Lately many of my friends (all women of a certain age) seem to be either becoming Grandmothers or posting photos of their newly-born or very cute toddler grandchildren.  And my latest grandchild, the cutest (read prettiest) little boy is aobut to turn one.  I   admittedly and shamelessly am one of those Grandmothers After all, you know what some people say, ‘what’s the point of raising kids if you’re not going to be blessed with grandkids’.

When my first grandchild was born, I was sure I didn’t want to be called Grandma, the term just conjured up some images of my own grandparents who I never remember as being youngish.  It’s possible by the time my grandkids grow up they may not remember how young and vibrant and pretty their grandmother was when they were born either.   There I said it.  It’s all part of that Baby Boomer culture where we will never be as old as our parents were and why should we? 

So faced with the question from my daughter as to how would I prefer to be referred to, I didn’t hesitate  and immediately said, ” Well certainly not Grandma”! 

There was an article in the Wall Street Journal about this very dilemma now being faced by my generation and after reading it, I thought I would share the essence of it with the rest of you Grandmas and Grandpas.  Apparently aging Baby Boomers are in the midst of a grandbaby boom and we’re struggling with a bunch of issues.  Like how to be attentive grandparents while having our own busy career and increasingly, caring for the our own elderly parents?  How to stay close to the tykes while living far away?  (oh boy does that one ever hit home)

And of course what to be called by their grandchildren, lest it make them sound – and feel – old.  It’s as I said, earlier, another example of how baby boomers, whose anthem was Bob Dylan’s “Forever Young” are not going gently into old age.  Gosh I hope anyone under the age of 40 knows who Bob Dylan is!!

Naturally there are lots of people who are happy with the old appellations, Granny, Gramps, Bubbe and Zayde just doesn’t do it for this group, with their toned bodies, plastic surgery and youthful outlooks.  More like Grand-Dude!  I read about one couple who opted for Glamma (glamorous grandma) and Papa Doc (he was a dentist).  Problem with Papa Doc is that it reminds many people of the late Haitian dictator, Francois “Papa Doc” Duvalier – however, again maybe only us boomers know who that is.

The children of these baby boomers are perplexed as to why their parents are so concerned about vanity and self-interest.  Many young Jewish mothers yearned to have a Bubbe in their children’s lives just as they had growing up.  But often the mother and mother-in-law said no to that title as for them it conjured up a neurotic, overprotective worrywort or someone from the old country, who has an accent, looks frumpy and wears a babushka.  Stereotypes yes, but obviously too real for some of us.

Experts in the field of aging are not surprised that baby boomers are seeking creative ways to avoid wrinkly sounding labels. “That whole generation is reinventing old age”, says Tome Nelson, chief operating officer of AARP, formerly known as the American Association of Retired Persons.  In fact, AARP’s marketing department has had to devise new ways of talking to boomers so as not to alienate them by making them feel old!

Some new parents call a summit meeting with the soon-to-be grandparents and give them the opportunity to pick out names and avoid duplications.  You can only imagine how this goes down with those parents who divorced and re-married in the interim!  Luckily in my own case, all the players were civilized about the abundance of grandparents and step-grandparents and believe it or not, we came up with enough names to suit everybody!

I’m GiGi (for me that’s glam gram) and the other grandmother is Nana, my ex-husband is Nono (Italian) and the other grandfather is Poppi ( a long-standing tradition in that family), my now husband is Papa Pete – it worked out nicely.

I’ve heard of several creative names in the past couple of years such as Meme, Me Ma, Coco, Lefty and Sheriff.  That’s probably the tip of this baby boomer iceberg so now I would love to have you all send me some of the new names you’ve heard or created yourself to identify grandparenthood.  There’s a whole lot of babies yet to be born and new appellations needed!

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Has this recipe got my name written all over it or What?  What could be more up Pbenjay’s alley than not one BUT TWO of my favorite foods;  Peanut Butter and Jelly sandwiches and best of all Ice Cream!  This recipe comes from Honestly YUM. The following is from that web site:

“This recipe is so simple I can’t believe I hadn’t thought of it before. I mean, who wouldn’t love a dessert version of a PB&J sandwich. It’s pretty much my go-to sandwich whenever I’m too lazy to make dinner. The jam ice cream can be made with any jam you like, but I love blackberry jam with the seeds studded in there. You can also make our blackberry bourbon vanilla jam. The gluten-free peanut butter cookies are the most intensely peanut butter cookie you’ll ever have. I’ll admit I was skeptical about the gluten-free part, but they’re really delicious. Resist the temptation to eat them straight out of the oven. Combine the two and you’ve got the ultimate ice cream sandwich that will be the envy of any 1st grader.”

PB & J Ice Cream Sandwiches

PB & J Ice Cream Sandwiches

PEANUT BUTTER AND JELLY ICE CREAM SANDWICHES (GLUTEN-FREE)
Ingredients:
1 cup of smooth peanut butter
1/2 cup of brown sugar
1/2 cup of granulated sugar
1 egg
1/2 teaspoon of baking soda
flake sea salt
1 jar of blackberry jam
1 quart of vanilla ice cream
Directions:
To make the jelly ice cream, scoop vanilla ice cream into a loaf pan and drop dollops of blackberry jam between each scoop.
Cover with plastic wrap and freeze preferably overnight.
To make the gluten-free peanut butter cookies, pre heat the oven until 350 degree. Combine the smooth peanut butter, sugars, egg, baking soda in a bowl and whisk to combine.
Using a tablespoon, roll a ball of cookie dough in a ball.
Lay the balls on a baking sheet lined with parchment paper
Make crosshatch patterns with a fork on the top of the cookies.
Sprinkle sea salt on top.
Bake for about 10-12 minutes until golden brown.
Allow to cool completely
To assemble the sandwiches, place on scoop of jam ice cream between two cookies.

Peanut Butter Cookies

Peanut Butter Cookies

Freeze Ice Cream and Jam

Freeze Ice Cream and Jam

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You know, you gotta hand it to Starbucks; You may not like their coffee, you may think it’s over-priced, some say bitter but hey, just look at how they’ve grown!  According to Wikipedia, Starbucks is the largest coffeehouse company in the world, with 23,305 stores in 65 countries and territories, including 13,049 in the United States, 1,909 in China, 1,555 in Canada, 1,089 in Japan and 927 in the United Kingdom.

The first Starbucks opened in Seattle, Washington, on March 30, 1971, by three partners who met while they were students at the University of San Francisco: English teacher Jerry Baldwin, history teacher Zev Siegl, and writer Gordon Bowker. The three were inspired to sell high-quality coffee beans and equipment by coffee roasting entrepreneur Alfred Peet after he taught them his style of roasting beans. Originally the company was to be called Pequod, after a whaling ship from Moby-Dick, but this name was rejected by some of the co-founders. The company was instead named after the chief mate on the Pequod, Starbuck.

The first Starbucks cafe was located at 2000 Western Avenue from 1971–1976. This cafe was later moved to 1912 Pike Place Market; never to be relocated again. During this time, the company only sold roasted whole coffee beans and did not yet brew coffee to sell. The only brewed coffee served in the store were free samples. During their first year of operation, they purchased green coffee beans from Peet’s, then began buying directly from growers.

BUT WAIT, this blog post is about a wonderful invention.  One, I personally find it to be a brilliant idea and every day I use it with my Grandé Americano.  I’m referring to ……

Image

Simplistic in design, ingenious in concept, readily available (except when they run out) (so I keep one in my handbag), inexpensive to produce and FREE to you and me!

Image 1

Look Ma, No Spills!

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I wouldn't - Would you?

I wouldn’t – Would you?

I mean really where would our society be without a set of rules and a protocol of niceties?  But not wearing white after Labor Day?  Who said so and why?  My friend Gail posted a link (from the web site Mental Floss) on Facebook that answers that question and so I’m going to post the link in this blog. 

But first I’m going on record as YES I was and am one of those people who adhere to that ancient admonition about not wearing white after Labor Day.  I didn’t know I was following in the footsteps of some former elitist class but then again as a child of the 50’s that was how I was taught and so I passed it on to my daughter born in the late 70’s.  I know she followed that rule for some years after she left home but now it’s doubtful especially since she is living in Florida!

No White Shoes

No White Shoes

My husband on the other hand strictly adheres to the no spectator shoes before Memorial Day and after Labor Day.  It may be an antiquated way of thinking and behaving but when surrounded by a couple of generations that seem to have a no holds barred and anything goes attitude, it feels good to cling a few of the old rules.  Decorum has its place in society. Or would you rather walk down the street and pass young men with their pants hanging below their rear ends or girls wearing colorful bras and an open shirt or short shorts so short one wonders why not just wear the thong that the whole world can see anyway?  Or watch an awards show and see the entertainers half or more naked on the stage (because really what is that all about?).  Yes I must be getting on in years, showing my age (and my sensibilities).  But it isn’t fun to be on a bus or train trapped by loud-speaking-totally-unconcious-of-the-world-around-them youths who carry on phone and personal conversation at a decibel level practically illegal!

They're Everywhere!

They’re Everywhere!

So YES I will stop wearing white after Labor Day, No I will not wear gloves or a hat when I go out shopping, YES I try to wear age-appropriate clothing, NO I will not carry on a cell phone conversation on the bus, in an elevator or during dinner in a restaurant.  YES I always allow people older than myself out of the elevator or through a doorway before me and NO I don’t wear suede UGGS in the spring and summer with a Sundress!

Seriously?

Seriously?

Well now that I’ve had my rant, here’s the link to the article:  http://mentalfloss.com/article/12424/why-can%E2%80%99t-you-wear-white-after-labor-day

Some Things Are OK!

Some Things Are OK!

 

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 NO PHOTO – A THOUSAND WORDS SAYS IT ALL

Sounds pretty disgusting doesn’t it?  Well I was going to call it Honey-Glazed Flatbread but that conjures up something thin and crispy, whereas my cornbread was like wafer-thin fudge!

Since I’m always touting myself as a good cook, I thought it only appropriate to let my readers know that I, too, sometimes make mistakes and when I do….well this time I made more than one and oh well, here’s how it went down.

I got up early yesterday morning to bake the cornbread I planned on serving with dinner Saturday night.  I had my friend Barbara as a house-guest and had invited Michael (who was bereft of house guests for a change) to come over for dinner.  And that’s a funny aside also; I sent him a text on Friday when it occurred to me he might not have company over the weekend and so why not ask to eat dinner with us.  I asked him to come over on Saturday and then for some reason I said, “or Sunday”.  That was a mistake! He promptly wrote back and said Sunday would be fine.  So now I had to figure out a way to gracefully renege on Sunday and push for Saturday.  Why? Because I realized I would not have anything to serve him on Sunday whereas we were having turkey cutlets on Saturday he only eats chicken or turkey.  I sent another text asking him if Saturday were out of the question, adding I had a friend here who would leave on Sunday and I was making turkey cutlets.  In my heart of hearts I KNEW he opted for Sunday because being younger and of sound body and mind, his Sunday routine lately has been to go a Boot Camp exercise class at 7am on Sunday mornings.  Well be that as it may, I really hoped he would acquiesce to Saturday and thank God, he did.

Back to preparing the cornbread (before breakfast and before my Grandé Americano, you see how I’m setting the stage for my soon-to-be-fatal mistakes.  Fatal that is, for the cornbread.  The night before I had Barb shear the kernels off an ear of corn, so I had that component ready.  I re-read the recipe and then looked up the various ways to make a substitute for buttermilk, since I opted not to buy a quart of something no one was going to drink so I could have a half a cup for my recipe.  There are about 6 ways you can make substitute buttermilk and I’m pretty sure I picked the wrong one!  The easiest way would be to put some lemon juice into milk and let it sit for about 10 minutes.  And there was also a method involving vinegar and then there was the one with Cream of Tartar. 

Now seriously, why would I pick that one?  I have no idea! I don’t know what Cream of Tartar is and I think I read once that you could polish your silverware or your chrome faucets with it.  Oh well, I chose that method probably for the reason that I have a huge tin full of spices I never use and I was sure there was some Cream of Tartar ( I keep conjuring up some kind of Eastern European warriors) in there.  Strike 1.

First challenge was that all the methods called for making a cup of buttermilk and this one required 1 Tablespoon of Cream of Tartar.  I should only use 1/2 Tablespoon and for some lack-of-caffeine-brain-not-engaged reason I think I filled my tablespoon measure about a 1/3 of the way – WHAT was I thinking?  AND I don’t know the shelf life of Cream of Tartar but I’m pretty sure this one is from the other millennium.  Strike 2 – I looked at my milk choices in the refrigerator and again, some kind of brain freeze took hold – I didn’t pick the Almond milk and I didn’t pick the 1% milk.  Oh no, I picked the Hood Dairy Drink!  Duh where does it say MILK on the carton?   That’s Strike 3!   I set the milk or fake milk aside and waited for the clumps to form as the web site said would happen.

Next I carefully, measured out the butter (unsalted) into 4 tablespoons melted and 2 tablespoons melted.  I got the honey out of the cabinet, as well as the flour, an egg, the baking powder and some sugar.  Everything was mise en place, and the oven was pre-heating.   I lightly greased the pan.  I whisked the dry ingredients together and made a well and added the egg and some melted butter and honey and the buttermilk which had no clumps!  I mixed the ingredients together and poured it into the pan.  Right away I realized something was wrong – I had forgotten to gently fold in the corn kernels!!!!  Strike 4 I should have quit right then and there.  I scraped it out of the pan and back into the bowl and added the kernels.  Not sure as how much more greasing the pan needed so sprayed a little bit more and the thought, fleeting as it was, flew through my mind that some of pan grease was now in the mixture – I dismissed that thought. Strike 5!?

Pouring it back into the pan, it looked very flat and thin to me and I thought perhaps my pan was not 9″ x  9″ but maybe 10″ x 10″.  Oh well, into the oven it goes.  I set the timer for the shortest amount of time recommended because it looked so thin and my oven is ancient, never really sure it heats up accurately.

Thirty minutes later, the kitchen smells good and the toothpick came out clean when inserted.  However, I did note that it seemed only the tip of the toothpick went in before striking the bottom of the pan!  It looked wierd;  Pale yellow and flat.  I made the honey butter glaze and with pastry brush, spread it across the top of the bread. 

Once it cooled, Barbara thought we ought to taste it.  Mmmm interesting – NOT exactly what we expected.  Actually Barbara thought it not only looked weird, it tasted weird too.  It was more than dense…it definitely looked and felt like fudge.  Optimistically, I cut it up in squares and put it on a plate to serve later with dinner.

Dinner is served!  The turkey cutlets are golden brown in their panko crumb crust and dressed with a lemon, wine, caper sauce, the corn looks succulent and sweet (and it was), the Caprese salad looks beautiful on a white platter – juicy red tomato slices, mozzarella and fresh basil julienne sprinkled all over.  We had a mélange of zucchini and Golden Egg yelllow squash and Vidalia onions  sauteed in olive oil and seasoned with thyme.  Then there was this small plate of pale yellow squares, I urged everyone to try.  No one said a word, no one asked for seconds. 

When Barbara and I were cleaning up, I mused over the strange consistency and flavor of my cornbread.  It was at that moment, I had an epiphany!  Once when I was making scones in the Tea Room and they were coming out flat, I thought perhaps it was the Baking Powder which may have gotten damp and old.  SOOooooo I went to the cabinet, pulled out the baking powder AND OMG – the expiration date was Best used by December 2009. What kind of cook/baker has 5 year-old baking powder in her cupboard?  One that clearly doesn’t bake a lot!  There’s no such thing as Strike 5 or 4 for that matter, game over, I’m out! 

Moral of the story: Remember that baking is a science, it’s not creative cooking..  Every ingredient and its amount is there for a reason.  Start to substitute and improvise and you don’t get a delicious, sauce, soup or stew – NO you get cornbread fudge!

Footnote:  Dining under the stars, slathered in Skin So Soft, citronella candles on the patio,  t was a delightful evening!!

 

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 One of the things I love about having a cottage at the Jersey Shore is the ease of entertaining friends.It’s easy to meet new people in a small town and we’re lucky that some of our New York City friends also have cottages in this beautiful Shore town.

 Recently we met Angela and Seth, a very cool young couple. One day we walked past the porch where they were sitting, Really! There is a fabulous Victorian a block away from our house and we walk past it on our way to the beach. We’ve always admired this house because it is so perfectly put together. So we were pretty surprised to see the For Sale sign out in front and two young people sitting on the front porch.

 I have to lapse into an aside here because I believe front porches are one of the best means to meet and greet your neighbors, make new friends and visit with old friends. Porches are welcoming and beckon to passerby’s. There is a quote, actually more like a slogan that used to be published in every issue of ROADSIDE MAGAZINE that sums up an America we used to know, a place that I want to live and in fact I do when I’m in Ocean Grove. ROADSIDE refers to this slogan as a recipe for an American Renaissance: “Eat in diners, ride trains, shop on Main Street, put a porch on your house and live in a walk able community”. Sounds real good to me! And by the way, the stoops of Brooklyn and other boroughs of New York City offer the same way of life.

 There was an Open House sign posted and we inquired if it was their house. No, they were housesitting and we learned that the home belonged to the owners of the Flower Shop in town. They had recently sold the flower shop and were moving to Montana. It turns out that Angela and Seth were house sitting! What a great way to spend the best part of the year 1 block from the beach. And we found out that Angela was running the fairly new bakery, Daily Bread.

 Bread, for me, is more than the staff of life – I LOVE Italian bread, especially the chewy crusty kind, think Tuscany or Puglia. It didn’t take me long to express my deep regret and frustration about not finding a decent loaf of Italian bread in area so densely populated by residents of Italian Ancestry. Seriously, this area is bread-challenged. Soft crusts and airy puffy white bread! Like Wonder bread shaped into a baguette L Angela invites us to stop into her bakery and try some of her bread. I’m embarrassed that I didn’t realize the bakery had changed hands and apologize for not stopping by yet.

House-made Blueberry Muffins!

House-made Blueberry Muffins!

 The next day, Peter and I go into Daily Bread and Angela packs several chunks of different breads into a bag for us and gives it to us – no charge! For next couple of days, we feast on Ciabatta bread, French bread and healthy whole grain bread. Mmmm mmm good! Bread is one of my favas, right behind pasta and ice cream.

 The next weekend I bring some of Agata & Valentino’s Tuscan bread and their Cabernet loaf to Angela. Peter is afraid I will insult her, however my intention is only to share some of my City’s better breads with someone who I am sure will appreciate tasting them. A casual friendship is born.

 Last night we invited Angela and Seth to join us on our front porch for drinks and hors d’oeuvres. They would get to meet Michael, our friend, who was in town and who I invited to dinner. I had run into Michael on Thursday evening at Wegman’s and promptly invited him to dinner on Saturday night. I suppose there are those who might do that in Manhattan but somehow it all seems so easy and effortless when you are at the Shore.

 We had a delightful time eating and drinking for an hour or so. I served an assortment of olives, cheddar and Gouda cheeses with crackers, veggies and chips to dip into hummus and an artichoke spinach dip and some very addictive freeze-dried snap peas. I felt guilty about asking Seth and Angela to come for drinks but not dinner so I also heated up some quiche and served that too!

 We yakked and drank white Sangria, beer, wine and of course you know who had a martini. And, Angela brought us a big round loaf of beautiful bread and TWO boxes of delicious baked treats from her bakery.

 After they left, Michael, Peter and I moved to the backyard to eat under the stars and by candlelight. We had marinated chicken breasts, coleslaw, fresh Jersey corn and I made a Caprese salad with Jersey tomatoes, mozzarella and basil from my yard. We talked long into the night – it was warm and the citronella candles kept the mosquitos at bay, and the dessert treats and lots of wine fueled our conversation for the longest time till Michael said he really had to go because he was going to do a Boot Camp class in the morning! Did I mention that this group was from three distinctly different generations? Peter and I knew that while Angela was up early baking and Michael was doing push-ups we would be in bed watching Sunday Morning!

 

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That’s a direct quote from my friend Gail, who as usual has sourced out some exotic fact and this time it’s ice cream.  I could keep this ice cream thing going all summer!

I’ve never been convinced that more money equals better quality in every thing so convince me Jeni…do you think if she reads my blog she’ll send me some to sample?  I would promise to devote a blog or two singing her praises (if warranted).

This is an article from The Gothamist.

I can't even go there...

I can’t even go there…

We’ve already got double digit coffee drinks and $18 plates of carrots so why let something like a $13 price tag stop you from enjoying what may be some of the best ice cream in America? We’re talking about Jeni’s Splendid Ice Creams, a line of premium ice creams hand-crafted in Ohio and shipped to specialty markets around the country. Like many other cool local purveyors, Jeni’s rocks funky flavors like Brown Butter Almond Brittle, Salty Caramel and Brambleberry Crisp, each lovingly crafted step by painstaking step.
There were a lot of satisfied sighs heard at Gothamist HQ after some pints of the stuff magically appeared in our mailbox. It wasn’t until a pint was spotted at a nearby gourmet food shop retailing for the aforementioned double digits were our feelings slightly changed about our new favorite frozen treat.

We spoke to Jeni Britton Bauer herself, who told us she “doesn’t get any push back” regarding the price of her pints. Bauer says there are many contributing factors to the price point, including the pricey grass-fed milk they use and the artisan nature of the product, which is made the old-fashioned way instead of using flavored syrups and other artificial agents. The operation employs 30 people in a baking kitchen—where they toast marshmallows, make the homemade caramel and prepare other components for the ice cream—and another 150 in the production facility where it all comes together.
According to Bauer, the company actually makes very little profit, despite operating 17 stores and producing 20,000 pints per week to sell to retail outlets nationwide, thanks in part to the company’s B Corporation status, meaning they’ve made a commitment to “meet rigorous standards of social and environmental performance, accountability, and transparency,” often at the expense of raking in the big bucks.
So should you be picking up one of those pints? There’s no consensus here, but Gothamist contributor Scott Heins accurately pointed out that New Yorkers regularly shell out $13 for a glass of wine, so why not a pint of ice cream that’ll last longer than one drink? The taste can’t be beat: rich, creamy and just unusual enough to warrant a look over your same-old weekly Häagen-Dazs Cookie Dough habit.

So what do you think of that? Look forward to your comments.

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I just read the most scrumptious article on inventive, creative, outrageous flavors of ice cream being offered around town.  Town meaning New York City of course.  I read about these exotic places and yet I don’t go, what’s wrong with that picture?  A LOT!  Instead of being inside my air-conditioned apartment typing away at this blog, I should hustle myself over to one of these dairy delightful destinations.  Maybe this weekend I can get to one and really give you a first-hand opinion on just how delicious these ice cream flavors are.  I’ve copied the article (with photos I hope) and will attempt to paste below.  You know, just because you don’t live in NYC and you love ice cream, you could suggest to your own local ice cream shop (provided they make their ice cream like they all say they do), one of these flavors and give them the article too.  Now I call that paying it forward!  ** The photos didn’t copy so I’m going to try to put them in myself which means the wrong photo might be above or below the description.  Well you get the picture.

Chocolate. Vanilla. Strawberry. Always good choices. Chocolate chai? Cherry vanilla? Black-pepper strawberry? Even better ones. (And we haven’t even gotten to the Mexican Coke yet.) Check out five local creameries that are taking flavor combos to the next level.

Rum & Coke Raisin

Rum & Coke Raisin

Photo: Davey’s Ice Cream
RUM & COKE RAISIN
This is one of those “Where has this been all my life?” moments. Davey’s Ice Cream in the East Village whips drunken rum raisins into sweet cream that has been infused with–wait for it–Mexican Coke. It’s an occasional special, but even the shop’s simple strawberry variety gets a kick of black pepper. It’s just how they do.

Davey’s Ice Cream, 137 First Ave. (at St. Marks Pl.)

Makers Mark Manhattan

Makers Mark Manhattan

Photo: Coolhaus
MAKER’S MARK MANHATTAN
More of a whiskey girl? The traveling Coolhaus truck spikes its ice cream with Maker’s Mark and folds in sour cherries. Order it in a cup or in a sandwich of equally inventive cookies (hi, potato chip and butterscotch) and call it a day.

Follow @CoolhausNY on Twitter for truck locations and daily flavors

Avocado Ice Cream

Avocado Ice Cream

Photo: OddFellows Ice Cream Co.
AVOCADO
It only makes sense that the world’s creamiest fruit is spun into the city’s healthiest cone. (OK, we have no real evidence of that, but hey, it’s got omega-3s?) Hit up OddFellows in Williamsburg or the East Village to see if the scoop of avocado is available. But really, any of the shop’s rotating flavors are worthy of this list.

OddFellows Ice Cream Co., 75 E. Fourth St. (at Second Ave.); 175 Kent Ave. (at N. Third St.), Brooklyn

Earl Grey Tea Ice Cream

Earl Grey Tea Ice Cream

Photo: Van Leeuwen Ice Cream
EARL GREY TEA
The beloved day starter is now a day maker at Van Leeuwen. This is our go-to shop (and truck) for sophisticated flavors like Ceylon cinnamon, currants and cream, and gianduja.

Van Leeuwen locations throughout NYC

The article and photos are from PURE WOW.

 

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How can I name the Top Ten ice cream flavors, I mean really?!  This is just so subjective and for me the list revolves around moods, places and anything else lol.  Of course I have my old standbys, who doesn’t ?  What are yours? Want to share? Please do, wouldn’t it be great if the comment section of this blog  were filled with ice cream flavors and then whenever we wanted to drool, we could just pull up the page and lick the screen.  

This is clearly not the first time ice cream and ice cream flavors have found their way into this blog, oh no!  See this previous post, https://pbenjay.wordpress.com/2010/06/27/so-many-flavors-so-little-time/ and your vicarious taste buds will be activated.

So here goes in a true stream of consciousness today’s list of the TOP TEN Ice Cream flavors that come to mind AND are not in any order of importance – they’re just there this Sunday morning when I haven’t had my coffee or breakfast yet – this should be an interesting list ha, ha, ha.

So Many Flavors So LIttle Time

So Many Flavors So LIttle Time

1.  JAVA JOLT:  A delightful mildly sweet coffee ice cream with chunks of dark chocolate and dark chocolate syrup swirled through it.

2. CHOCOLATE MINT CHIP:  A minty green ice cream with tiny square dark chocolate chips throughout. This one is a real oldie and has become a classic

3.  MALTED MILK BALL: OMG when I found this flavor at an ice cream shop in Neptune, I couldn’t wait to taste it – such a throwback to a childhood favorite.

4. ALMOND TURTLES: If you’ve ever traveled to the South and picked up some of those famous chocolate “Turtles”, you know what I’m talking about.

5. PEANUT BUTTER MOOSE TRACKS: Definitely one of my “go-to” flavors for a peanut butter fix.  Thinks vanilla ice cream with chocolate swirls and chunks of peanut butter chips – Yeah you got the picture!

6. CHOCOLATE PEANUT BUTTER: This speaks for itself doesn’t it?  Rich chocolate ice cream with chunks of peanut butter in it. God is good.

7. ALMOND JOY:  The only thing better than chocolate and peanut butter is chocolate and coconut with some almonds thrown in!!

8. CREAMSICLE: Oh my shades of the Good Humor man! Orange sherbet and vanilla ice creme blended.

9. PISTACHIO: Such an old time favorite and so good, never say no to pistachio!

10. PUMPKIN: Definitely seasonal so when it’s out, I eat as much as I can in those two months of the year it appears.

Just TEN for today, but then again it’s till before noon so after our brunch, who knows……

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WTF?

WTF?

I don’t know whether to pick up the last couple of days of Ice Cream week at Pbenjay OR tell you where I’ve been and why!

Well, promises made are promises to be kept and I said I would explain why I just disappeared for a couple of days.  I was all set to post Thursday’s Top Ten list of ice cream flavors but didn’t get to write it before we left for the Shore.  I figured I could write it when we got there.  Never assume! 

Getting everything out of the apt, onto the cart and into the car is not fun thing it’s cracked up to be and Thursday was a WTF day!  I wheeled the cart out to the curb and took one look at the car and GULPED! The right rear fender has a huge dent in it. Oh shit! That was the mildest of the curse words that flew out of my mouth! I mean really, I am rebuilding this car fender by fender and bumper by bumper as it seems to be magnet for the most careless, rude, mean-spirited people that have hit my car and NOT ONE HAS EVER LEFT A NOTE ! There’s a real F U hit and run attitude prevalent in New York City.  I was just sick over this latest offense and thinking about yet another $250 deductible.  Naturally I asked Peter about it and he related the story of how he went to get the car from where it had been parked on another street and as he approached the car, a young man who was tinkering with his bike asked if this was his car because he thought it had been hit by a truck that had tried to park behind it and couldn’t fit and drove off.  Yeah he couldn’t fit – guess he knew that when he bashed in my rear fender!  This was not auspicious beginning of the trip or weekend.

We left New York a little after 3pm AND that was a mistake AND not the first time we’ve done such dumb thing and as a due reward for our stupidity it took us an hour to go from the UES to the Lincoln Tunnel.  I’m going to blame the late afternoon Starbucks for my very uncomfortable  situation;  we moved along excruciatingly slow and I wondered if I would make it to the service area about 2 miles outside the tunnel on the New Jersey side.  Ay yi yi…. I don’t need to fill in the blanks.

We were carrying things into the cottage and I remark to Peter that there must have been some rain here because there was a pile of mud and debris in our walkway (this always happens when it rains).  All of sudden Peter says, “hey there’s no power on”!  “WTF”!  I quickly open and close the freezer and my worst fears are confirmed.  Everything is defrosted, still a little chilled but definitely the frozen fruit is soup.  I call my friend Jane who owns a hotel in town and ask her if the power went out in town and she says no, not that I’m aware of.  I cross the street to speak to my neighbor and ask if he has power? Yes he does. BUT then goes on to explain that severe thunder and lightning storms along with 5 1/2 ” of rain fell on Monday and Tuesday AND the house 2 doors down from mine got hit with lightning.  Mmmmm – Peter goes to the basement, flips all the circuit breakers and nothing happens. I am so panicked about all the food in the freezer, we contemplate packing up a bag and taking it to the hotel but then we realize our neighbor’s house is empty because work is being done so we scoot over there to see if her refrigerator is on and empty.  We relay pass the food from our house to the neighbors over the fence.  I am stacking my soggy food in layers in her freezer with some freezer packs.

We call Jersey CL&P and tell them it’s an emergency, and we wait, and we wait.  Finally, a burly man with a big truck shows up.  Five minutes later he leaves…after he flips the MASTER CIRCUIT BREAKER switch.  REALLY??!! Really? In all fairness (and this part is hard), that switch stops halfway and in order to reset it, you have to push it past that point and pull it back.

Okay we have power, the food I think may be salvageable is next door and we still have to eat.  I start dinner and turn on the TV which for some reason I can’t seem to sync with the cable box.  Peter tries and he can’t do it either.  I think I’ll call Verizon but the phones are dead – I assume they are recharging – NEVER ASSUME.  And there’s no internet access.  So I call Verizon on my cell phone and for the next 30 minutes the technician tries to talk Peter through many steps to reboot everything only to discover ultimately that the big main box that was behind the wine rack, behind the cookbooks and behind the cake tin housing lots of tools is dead.  And that was only found out after trying to follow a cord out that box which ran behind the bookcase that held a ton of videos and its top shelf had several framed photos that kept falling as we tried to move the bookcase and then follow the cord behind the radiator which does not move!

Finally the techie and Peter realize making a service appointment is our only option. It’s now after 9:00 pm on Thursday night and the first appointment we can have is between 8am-noon on Saturday – WTF!  We have a house guest arriving tomorrow, we have no phone, no internet, no cable TV.

Fast forward to Saturday morning. We are up and ready by 8am eagerly awaiting the arrival of the Verizon repair man. At 8:15 am my cell phone rings and a cheery voice greets me with the news that although our appointment was to be between 8am-12pm, he wouldn’t be able to get there until between 1pm-2pm.  I tell him that is totally unacceptable and rattle off the reasons why and tell him to call his dispatcher and call me back.  He doesn’t so I call Verizon and the poor customer service who picked up the phone got an earful from me.  He kept repeating how they were over-booked and I kept repeating my litany of how long I have been a Verizon customer, how this house has been without all Verizon services for almost a week. Ok he’ll call the dispatcher and call me back.  He calls back and gives me this song and dance about how he spoke to the dispatcher but there are 5 jobs to be done blah blah blah.  My response is that I don’t care that there are 5 jobs just me in a time slot that is before noon.  I remind him that I have a text confirming that appointment.  He tells me that we don’t know how long the appointments will take to which I say that’s not true since every appointment was made for a specific task.  Finally after about 10 minutes, I ask him to connect me to a supervisor because I don’t need to yell at him and I realize there’s nothing he can do. OK he’ll get a supervisor.  At this point I hand the phone to Peter because if you can catch more bees with honey rather than vinegar it’s time to give the phone to Peter since I’m really worked up.

Twenty minutes later, Peter is trying his best to convince the supervisor who is handing him the standard party line which we are not buying.  I motion to Peter NOT to give in because at this point, it’s like a game as to who will say “uncle” first.  We’re holding firm!  Finally Verizon says he’ll call one of the service men and see if he re-route him. 

Now it’s time for breakfast al fresco!  We eat and wait.

Yay he’s here!  He actually showed up at 10 minutes to 11am.  He said he had been instructed to come to us after he completed the job he had been on.  In less than 10 minutes he replaced the battery pack and we were back in business.  Before he left we checked all three components of service and all are working. 

The moral of the story is if you make enough noise, if you hold firm, you will be a loud wall BUT you just might get what you need!  So now that I have computer access, I’ve been typing for about an hour relating this tale of electronic deprivation and now maybe I’ll be able to finish my ice cream week.  And for the record I had the best dish of sea salt caramel vanilla ice cream tonight!!!

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