Do any of these sound familiar? Cocoa a Go-Go, Daiquiri Ice, Pink Bubblegum.
Too tough? OK, let’s make it easier. Rocky Road, Huckleberry Finn. And, if you’re a certain age, Beatlenut.
This mouthful is the intro to news that Irvine Robbins, of Baskin-Robbins fame, has passed on. He was the first to get ice cream out of the grocery and into its own specialty store, giving inspiration to Ben and Jerry’s, Amy’s Ice Cream and my favorite, Blue Bell, the national ice cream of Texas.
Here’s another mouthful: Momofuku Ko. That’s the name of a 12-seat Japanese joint in the East Village that is the current rage. Reservations, naturally. Via computer at 10 a.m. six days before you want chow. The eight-course meal will set you back 85 bucks. Click fast. By 10:02, it's too late.
Still not convinced? Here’s lavish praise from a NY Times food writer: “…for $85 you get a number and caliber of dishes – including a wacky and wonderful blizzard of cold foie gras flakes and a cheeky panna cotta whose sweet, milky flavor mimics the sublime dregs of a bowl of cereal – that might cost $150 in a more formal environment.”
Turning the other cheek, let’s share a recent bit of florid prose from the Wine Spectator describing an Argentine red: “Dark and rich, with lots of fig bread, mocha, ganache, prune and loam notes. Stays fine-grained on the finish, with lingering sage and toast hints.” (Give credit to Eric Asimov for finding the quote.)
Doesn’t that just say it all? No wonder some people are still intimidated by wine snobs. Pour me another Three Buck Chuck.
If you are worried still about the walleye (good eating) in the iced-up lakes of northern Minnesota, fear not. You knew that ice on the lakes melts from the bottom.
A final note in this, our first Food and Wine issue, if you visit us in Minnesota, don’t drink the tap water. Oh, it tastes very good. But the water must come from the bottom of the glacier. It’s cold. Cracks your teeth.