|The subtle poetry and enlightenment one might find in the produce section.|
When I heard the flavor name "Lemongrass Mint Ginger" teased out on Facebook, I could not wait. Such a deliberately bold blend of flavors screams of genius at work. Lemongrass is known for adding a subtle dose of citrus flavor to foods. When paired with mint, one can assume that the mint was used sparingly enough as to not overpower. When paired with ginger, one thinks of East-Indian cuisine. As a whole, this flavor sounds refreshing, like meeting someone new and getting hopelessly twitterpated. In fact, it is exactly like that.
This ice cream is a soft and elegant lady that dares to be different, like the black sheep of a southern family turning everyone's heads at a debutante ball. After being charmed by the lemongrass (a flirt of sourness, not a tart sensation), the mint shyly asked me to dance (without being sickly sweet or "curiously strong") before the crystallized ginger cut in, adding a sugary, almost carbonated burn, one so delicate my sinuses didn't even flinch. As each of her ever-intriguing flavors gracefully waltzed in and out, we were swept into a smoothly executed accelerando. It wasn't until the flavors were Lindy Hopping in my mouth that I realized, though it felt as if I'd been switching partners throughout this ethereal evening, I'd been cheek-to-cheek with the same sweetheart. Totally smitten, I considered myself lucky to have kissed the hand of such a multifaceted belle and vowed to never let her go.
Despite the naïve promises of my delightfully dizzied taste buds, the whirlwind affair came to an end like a lover slipping into the night. I awoke as from a dream, standing on my kitchen's wood floor instead of in a lavish ballroom, holding my empty pint with the same care a prince would a glass slipper.
• • •My Bobtail Year will continue in July!