So it is time to post my paper about a family food tradition. My paper is 8 pages, this will take up the entire screen and take way too much time. So here are little snip-its.
I have the window down. I am in the back seat of a minivan. My dad is driving down the streets of
Luckily more flavors and types of ice cream have become available to the general public. When my sister was turned four in
In 6th grade my obsession with vanilla ice cream officially began. I loved to make shakes for everyone. I didn’t make the type where you dump all the ingredients in a blender and let it do all the work- No…we make the lumpy kind that has a little splash of milk and the ingredients are just smashed with a big spoon. There was a stage in my life that lasted at least a couple years where I would make the entire family oreo -banana shakes. I would start with one oreo, hand broken in pieces at the bottom of the glass, and ½ of the banana chopped up. Next a scoop of ice cream, and repeat the process. Just two crushed oreos are the right amount, but the banana portion is dependent on the eater. Last, a splash of milk to help the stirring process. I put them in tall glasses with special long spoons my mom bought precisely for our shake purposes. I mix them with our little spoon, but not too much. You still want the flavors separate so that some of the crunching can be done by the shake partaker. I like to have some bites of the plain vanilla ice cream uninhibited by oreo chunk, so as to emphasize each separate element that combine in this beautiful creation.
At the present time, we own the perfect scoop. A plastic handle holds the metal spoon with sharp corner edges to slice through the cream. The time saved using the new scooper is well spent. We know that if the ice cream is out of the freezer, we are assembled together. It is an easy treat that makes my family rush to the kitchen before it melts. My dad steps away from the financial statements, Lizzy turns off the TV, Melissa and her husband come over, Jesse comes upstairs, Emily stops playing the piano, and my mom turns the sewing machine off. This tradition has evolved with us in our ability to adapt with developed taste buds and new flavors and then learning to make decisions about toppings and sizes. Sometimes ice cream makes Jesse sick, some days Emily wishes for Italian gelato, and sometimes chocolate still makes me gassy. Each serving changes like us. But as long as there is ice cream, I know that my family will be enjoying it together, no matter where we may be, one scoop at a time.