The Ice Cream Man

     Page Eighty.
     I've recently begun hearing the alarm of the local ice cream man. I say alarm because really, that's what it is. It's an alarm to neighborhood children that lots of over-priced, under-quality ice cream treats are available just in time to diminish their appetites. (In this particular neighborhood, the neighborhood where I nanny/cook, the ice cream man shows up in the late afternoon, just prior to dinnertime.) Now, don't worry. I am not going to complain about the ice cream man. I'm not a crab. What I am going to do is write about euphoric recall.
     Euphoric recall is a beautiful thing. It's that part of our memory which helps us remember things not as they were, but as we wish they had been. Euphoric recall works on any manner of topics: The size of the fish you caught with your dad when you were eleven; the smell of the perfume your long-gone grandmother wore; the softness of the Teddy Bear you got when you were four... all of these things are prone to euphoric recall. Specifically though, for the sake of this blog, I'm going to talk about euphoric recall as it pertains to food memories.
     I have a friend who's childhood memories include many fond thoughts of a particular fast food joint and their signature sandwich. As an adult though, she gone back to that place, ordered the item in question, and insists that they've changed the recipe as it's nowhere near as good as she remembers. Well, gee... I wonder why? It's always possible that they really have changed the item, but highly unlikely. What is likely is that it's much easier for a fast food joint to please the palate of a child than that of an adult.
     Or, how about those glorious frozen dinners? As a child, weren't they warm, fuzzy, comfortable, filling and just plane delicious? Nowadays, I think they're gross. I ate a LOT of frozen dinners and also many cans of prepared pseudio-italian foods when I was a kid. I'm practically alive today because all that stuff prevented me from starvation back then. (Having been an incredibly picky child, there weren't a lot of things I liked.) Nowadays, I rarely get a craving for that stuff, much as I loved it then. But I can promise you, if I didn't have access to it, and if I hadn't tasted it in the last thirty years, I'd remember the stuff as being glorious.
     How about some of the candy I loved as a kid? Admittedly, I'm still fond of Smarties, Baby Ruths and red licorice. In fact, I just bought some red licorice a few hours ago. But really, those things are no longer the center of my universe. (If you want to mesmerize me with some chocolate today, make it dark, thank you very much!) Also, back in the olden days, I could make a meal of Ho-Ho's. Lemme tell you something: compared to a piece of real, fresh devils food cake with fudge frosting, Ho-Ho's are like a frozen, toaster waffle compared to a real, fresh one.
      Which brings me back to the ice cream man. The items he sells really suck. They're overpriced. They ruin a child's appetite. No good can come from his services, except for one thing. He creates memories. And those memories are the most wonderful things in the world.