Ice cream is the perfect dessert.

After years of trying lots of different sweets, and teetering on the brink of numerous diabetic comas, I have come to the conclusion that ice cream is, in fact, the perfect dessert.

I have long argued that pie is better than cake, and I stand by that argument. However, choosing an overall best in the sweets category is easy. It’s ice cream.

Ice cream is far above other desserts in its diversity, taste, texture, and its consistency in delivering culinary euphoria. The sweet, delectable goodness that ice cream possesses is in a category all by itself.

There are folks who don’t care for pie, or cake, or pastries, or candy. But, I have yet to find anyone who doesn’t like ice cream. True, there are differences of opinion when it comes to which flavor of ice cream is tops, but categorically, ice cream rules supreme in my book.

Ice cream is one of the first sweet treats most of us are ever given. Before babies even cut teeth, grandparents and others will happily give a kiddo his or her first taste of ice cream. Many of us have baby pictures our parents took that show large quantities of the stuff smeared all over our faces. There’s usually more on us than in us in these photos.

Growing up, Baskin Robbins was a real treat. They always had 31 flavors, which gave each kid the feeling that they were not only receiving a tasty reward for something well done, but that they also could actually have a say about something. A well-played little league game or a good report card was often rewarded with a trip to Baskin Robbins.

In my family, it was the chocolates against the vanilla. My mom was the only one who liked vanilla, so she was always outvoted when it came to pies and cakes. But, at Baskin Robbins, mom could have all of the vanilla she wanted. And she did.

Flavors such as pralines and cream, rocky road and chocolate chip mint will forever have a place in my memory thanks to Baskin Robbins.

Before Baskin Robbins and a couple of fellas named Ben and Jerry, a lot of folks made their own ice cream. One of my favorite memories of summer is taking turns cranking the ice cream maker. Family reunions always included a hand-crank ice cream maker, large bags of ice, and rock salt. The moms would mix up the ice cream recipe, the men would pour it into the ice cream maker, and away we would all crank. To this day, I have yet to find any store-bought ice cream that can rival the taste of homemade.

Even in winter, we made ice cream. It doesn’t snow a lot in Texas, but it did where I grew up in Arkansas. Snow ice cream is absolutely amazing, too. Large bowls of fresh snow would be brought into the house. We’d stand back and watch mom add all of the ingredients and then stir it thoroughly. The mix would then go into the freezer and we’d wait. Our patience always paid off, because sitting in front of the fireplace and eating snow ice cream is hard to beat.

For many years, our grandson would come spend a week with us in the summer. We’d fish in the pond, hang out in grandpa’s shop and go to the movies. But, every year, he’d always ask the same thing. “Can we make some ice cream?” He’s older now and on to other things. He may not remember everything we did each summer, but I bet he’ll remember making ice cream.

I know I will.

©2015 John Moore
To read more of John’s musings, visit johnmoore.net/blog