While it is still warm, every night Mrs. C and I share a cup of Italian Ice, “Marino’s” Italian Ice. They come at the store in three flavors, strawberry, lemon, and cherry. All good, but cherry is my favorite.
We share the cup spoonful by spoonful. I feed Mrs. C alternating spoonful’s which she opens wide for like a hungry baby bird. If I sneak a spoonful of shavings out of turn, she spots it right away.
About two thirds of the way through the cup, Mrs. C declares she has had enough. This is much to my great relief. If you are a connoisseur of Italian Ice then you know the bottom third is always the best.
I don’t know how they make the stuff, or what the science is, but the flavor syrup of the ice tends to seep to the bottom third. The top two thirds have plenty of flavor, but the bottom is always the best.
I may be a bit selfish, so I hold my breath as the ice works its way down to the extra good, extra gooey, syrup. Mrs. C always calls it quits before we reach the good part.
The other night I was feeling a bit guilty and as we reached the bottom third of the cup I said,
“You do know the best part of the Italian Ice is the bottom third of the cup, right?”
“Yuuck! The bottom third is always ruined by the gooey syrup that seeps through.”
My wife has some unusual tastes, and unusual ways of doing things. For instance, she does not eat tomatoes or garlic, and she is Italian! Even stranger, she dips her pudding and does not scoop.
I have been known to make fun of her weird food habits. I think I will just let this strange aversion to the best part of an Italian Ice work in my favor.