Ice Cream

"I scream, you scream, we all scream for ice cream..."

The ultimate in comfort food. Sweet and fat with memories of lactation and infancy tying the whole experience together. I lived on it when I was young and thin. There was no need for any upscale brands then, just an instant cold and wet gratification. I had my turn with the dipper as well. Working in The Edina View restaurant/ice cream parlor, I mixed it in a big freezing churn in the back room, twenty gallons at a crack, then served it up to the neighborhood swells. No tips for the help, either.

The Edina View was run by a married couple, transplanted southerners, the shambling, scruffy man was always working angles to get ahead- he had a basement full of old candy vending machines, he supplied fruit-punch for wedding receptions and worked part-time for the school district. The woman was frilly, with big hair. There were always a few "special" customers she gave special attention. Me, I just dished the ice cream, cleaned tables and washed dishes. Buck-ten an hour and when the afternoon sun shone through the front doors you could see through the summer dresses of the women who walked in. Life was good.