Come the end of May or thereabouts, we more or less live on a diet of frozen dairy and other icy foodstuffs. It’s part Darwinian survival strategy and part hedonistic appreciation for anything that can be eaten from a cone — preferably one answering to “waffle.” And this summer has thus far presented an abundance of frozen treats previously unseen in New York’s history.
Between the gourmet popsicles, self-pasteurized organic ice cream, shaved ice, ice cream sandwiches, Thai sorbets, Big Easy Sno-Balls, idiosyncratically flavored gelato, gay soft-serve, and “individual-sized” ice cream cakes, New York has finally become a decent ice cream town, one that we’re beginning to hope may one day rival Boston or San Francisco. And so tomorrow we will celebrate this new bounty — even as we reach gratefully for our Lactaid pills.
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