I can buy two litres of ice cream from my supermarket for the same price as a small dessert bowl with ice cream, a drizzle of sauce and a few sprinkles. I cannot deny that. Weight for weight, a store-bought tub is much cheaper than sitting in a restaurant and ordering one.
When I have finished my sundae in the ice cream shop, I walk away with a smug and satisfied, self-indulgent smile on my face. The lingering cacophony of flavours still playing lightly around my mouth.
When I finish my ‘portion’ of home served ice cream, I am invariably, sat at my desk, teaspoon in hand, staring at a large, empty plastic container, with a guilty look on my face, an uncomfortable, distended belly and that slight dizzy sugar rush that, for a fleeting instant, has you swearing off the stuff for life.
Where’s the economy in that? I may have spent the same money, but I have paid in so many other ways!
Don’t preach ‘self control’ or ‘rational portions’ (or should that be proportional rations) at me. There is, I believe, a conspiracy of silence in the ice cream trade. This is my theory, backed up some hard (or soft scoop, if that is your preference) evidence:
NOT ONE manufacturer lists as one of their ingredients the little ice demons that are secretly being added to the mixture. These microscopic beings gently call your name through the thick walls of the freezer and lure you towards their sugar-laden delights.
Have you seen these listed on the tubs? NO! That, not only proves my point, but also devolves me of any responsibility whatsoever!
This terrible, possibly illegal practice should be stomped out immediately!
Right after I finish this tub…
Here endeth the Grump!