What's the best thing about summer in my neck of the woods? That's simple: ice cream. Probably the best memories of nearly every summer involve a trip to get this delicious treat. While I would probably eat it any day of the year, it just doesn't taste the same. More importantly, my life is chock-full of rituals surrounding the act of obtaining this delight.
When I was very small, my parents had these friends, Garner & Nell. They were this kind Southern couple, a few years younger than my parents. We all thought Nell pretty cool, as she drove a 53 MG, you know, the one with two seats and the running boards. After playing a baseball game, she would pile us all into her car (we were pretty small) and drive to the local parlor to get cones.
Fast forward about 30 years and I'm taking my children out for ice cream in the summer. When we lived in Charlotte, I would have special time with a young Julia by driving her to Larry's in Mint Hill. In Raleigh, I would take her and younger sister Amanda to Goodberry's (home of the Carolina Concrete!) for frozen custard.
Summers in Scituate took us to Dribble's on Front Street. Summers at home in Florida (well, most of the year) frequently resulted in a B-R run. For a really special treat, it was Jaxson's in Dania Beach, which is like no ice cream parlor I have ever experienced. I have not discovered a special place in Atlanta for my summertime sins, but I am optimistic. It seems my son-in-law has just acquired a new pickup truck. I have asked that my first ride result in a trip to some place that sells ice cream. Then, forever after, I will refer to his Ride as The Ice Cream Truck.
I think it's probably more the memories of the company than the actual ice cream, but it's a summer tradition that I will always treasure.
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