Daily Prompt: A local ice cream parlour invites you to create a new wacky flavor. It needs to channel the very essence of your personality. What’s in it?
Now that’s a challenge! How do I see myself? What are my characteristics? One day I will have a portrait of myself on this blog that I find adequate, but so far I haven’t managed that, and now I’m asked to create a flavour that is the very essence of my personality?? Come on! And turn it into edible ingredients?? Maybe I’ll go with intangibles and make a fantasy ice cream filled with talking and laughter; books and reading; quiet introspection. Or a handful of roses, a drop of river water, a smidgeon of moonshine…
There are no ice cream parlours around here. Ice cream in cartons from the supermarket, yes; ice creams and splices and other sorts on sticks, yes; but no parlours. I wouldn’t call them ice cream parlours either and I’m not sure what I would call them. And yes, I know I’m avoiding getting around to defining the very essence of my personality. Is it modesty that makes defining myself a challenge? Or my culture that says I mustn’t skite or act conceited? Or is it because we become so defined by what we do, rather than who we are?
So, what would I include?
I do love to sit around talking with my friends, but I also love quietness and peace; in spite of the anxiety and stress of many years, by nature I’m happy and sunny, summer rather than winter; I’m intelligent and interested in ideas, bored by the superficial; not very practical and sometimes lack common sense; often vague, can be thoughtless and impulsive…An ideas person rather than a doer.
How will I turn my essence into ice cream? It needs to be made with cream because past times at my parents included home-made pies and rich, thick, yellow cream, collected from my uncle’s farm, just a few miles away. The cream can represent both this countryside which is imprinted deep into my very bones and the sense of belonginess from those times.
What else? Apricots for sunniness, walnuts for intelligence, figs- sensitive and easily bruised…and what can represent that ability I have to keep going, no matter what, to endure? SALT! The mineral that traditionally has been used to preserve. Then some smarties for a strong dash of fun.
Thinking about ice cream has brought back memories of childhood. I remember my parents buying their very first refrigerator and before that, the ice man making deliveries and the big block of ice sitting in the ice chest. Imagine trying to freeze anything, with only an ice chest in an Australian summer? Anything frozen was almost impossible. My mother used to make ice cream occasionally, beating the semi-frozen mixture by hand. Bought ice cream was a rare and special treat, a luxury. I remember an ice cream cake for someone’s birthday, On special occasions we might be treated to an ice cream in a cone and at Sunday school picnics the afternoon would see the thick canvas barrel, filled with dry ice, brought out and the handing around of ice creams in little cardboard buckets with wooden scoops.
Ice cream tasted better then. Maybe I did too,