The Trouble With Ohio

As many of you know, I grew up in Connecticut. Great state, that Connecticut. Quite lovely in many respects. I miss it sometimes.

But I live in Ohio now. Me gusta Ohio. Great place to live. Lovely state, all around. I am happy to live in Ohio. Mind you, I'm no Buckeye fan (and, if you are like me, you might not know what a buckeye is until you move to Ohio.) But, I'm no UConn fan either. So there you go.

But I suppose if I had to decide where my loyalties lie, they'd come up on the Ohio side. Fine, fine place, this Ohio.

With one exception.

No one here knows how to do ice cream.*

I began noticing ice cream infractions right after college, when I was living on my own and doing all the important things that single women do when they start out life on their own. You know, things like finding the best ice cream joints.

I have been annoyed, on several occasions, because of the way that people "do" ice cream here. It happened again this past weekend, and I started wondering why I get annoyed. I have concluded that I have long held a subconscious list of ice cream rules. I realized I had several rules which govern my expectations when eating ice cream. Some might consider them ice cream minutiae, but they have led to many a disappointment for me. I think these rules, in part, came from my ice cream experiences when I was growing up in Connecticut. But, Connecticut or Ohio, I truly believe that THIS is how ice cream should be done.

Here are the rules:

1. Ice cream joints should be open all year.
This concept of closing down your shop for 9 months out of the year is ludicrous. What's the matter with everyone? Do people stop eating ice cream just because it gets cold? That's STUPID!

2. If you are going to sell ice cream, you must sell vanilla AND chocolate, at the very least.
What's up with going to a Dairy Queen and being told that they only sell vanilla? At DAIRY QUEEN? Geez, more like Dairy Pauper... selling only one flavor... and the LAMEST ONE, at that!

3. Hard pack ice cream should be, um, HARD.
If you aren't breaking your wrist when you are dipping it (scooping it, in CT) then it might as well be soft serve. And don't try to sell me that stupid Pampered Chef ice cream scoop with antifreeze in the handle that melts the ice cream when you dip it. If I wanted melted ice cream I'd drink chocolate milk. Hard pack isn't supposed to be slimy. It's supposed to be hard.

4. A chocolate milkshake should be made with CHOCOLATE ICE CREAM.
What, I must know, is the point of making a shake with chocolate milk and vanilla ice cream, when you can use chocolate ice cream and get WAY better results? (Unless you are at that Dairy Queen, that is...) No one out here does this. I swear. I first encountered this ridiculousness during my maiden voyage to Steak n Shake. A restaurant which, go figure, only serves vanilla ice cream. Everyone was telling me how great Steak n Shake was. After ordering a single steakburger - which is like eating a beef-flavored piece of paper on a bun - I was served this pseudo chocolate shake. All I could think was hmmm the steak stunk, and the shake is even worse!

5. A malt is a milkshake (in other words, it's drinkable,) with malt in it.
The Spot, the "famous" diner in Sidney, Ohio, makes one killer old fashioned cream pie. But don't order a malt there. It is literally soft serve in a cup. WhaaAAAAAAT?

6. A sundae has whipped cream.
Stop asking me if I want whipped cream when I order a sundae. Of course I want whipped cream. If I didn't, I would have ordered a cup.

I am sure this all sounds rather silly to you all. But I have given this a lot of thought, and I think this really is how ice cream should be done. It just doesn't make sense any other way.

I am contacting my congressmen.

(*With the notable exception of Graeter's. Them folks got some stinking good 'scream.)