When you have time to order mid day ice cream in a different country, served by staff who don’t know your language, with a white cloth napkin and clean silverware,you don’t need to worry about price or how quick to eat it.

This is a full three scoops of coffee ice cream plus strawberries with some nutty granola sprinkled around the base of the mountain for flavor and texture. 

The ice cream in the bowl reminds me of a University of New Mexico professor in the English department who used to wear a red bow tie to class and extol the virtues of James Joyce and ” Ulysses. ”

Despite spending a semester in the novel, it would be difficult to sum it up in a neat little package. It was one hell of a book with a focus on little things, like taking a magnifying glass and looking at the weave of a handmade quilt that someone was quilting as you read.

In the hot summertime, the Professor in this bowl would become mud quickly.

Now, in February, he maintains his profile and will always be remembered as a crusty bookworm who should have been dusting library shelves instead of lecturing students in neat rows.

Ice cream is a small pleasure but a pleasure to be savored.

Joan and I share till nothing is left in the bowl.

Women and desserts seem to go together.

 

 

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