One Man's Toffee is Another Man's Caramel

Who knew there’d be good ice cream in Scotland? Amazing whisky? Of course. Attractive sheep? Well, the jury’s still out on that one, although I am a bit lonely at the moment. But ice cream? The pride of New England desserts? I didn’t expect it, but there it is…Mackie’s of Scotland. Lurking in bloated liter-sized containers , they seem to be overshadowed by the more expensive, imported Ben & Jerry’s. And while I love the weird looks I get here in the U.K. when I flash my Vermont gang signs to the pints of Coffee Toffee Crunch sitting in their cool cage, when in Rome…and this Rome’s got some sweet creaminess going on in the frozen foods section. I’m all about eating local, anyways. Except for my women. I mean, Scottish women? Have you seen them? Makes America much more attractive. Both Ferrera and the country.

My favorite flavor thus far is something they call honeycomb; and while it isn’t really honeycomb, it’s still pretty damn good. It’s essentially meringue that’s been taken a bit too far when it was whipped, so it’s got the aeration, but with a toasty flavor that you could easily honey-fy in your mind given the right type of social persuasion and with a touch of artificial flavor. And it sticks to your mouth, like a good Pavlova should. So in the end, they’re more caramel bits, but I don’t want to get bogged down in details. If you’ve ever been blessed to have had a Cadbury’s Crunchie (I shall get poetic about that awesomeness at a later date,) then you know what I mean about the faux-honeycomb.

So this “honeycomb” comes across as more as caramel bits, strewn throughout “toffee” ice cream, which, expectedly with all the misnomers, is really more caramel ice cream. But at this point, who cares? And who knew that liquid from cow’s udders could be so freaking tasty? It totally beats out blood pudding in the competition for best product made out of an animal’s internal liquids. I wonder what blood pudding ice cream would taste like.

I’m going to stop before this gets out of hand. Blood, ice cream…I know what my twisted mind is capable of, and I won’t subject you to the open-throttle version of that. Maybe in private.

Coincidentally, for some hot, food-charged individual e-mail love, why not write to me? You know who you are, reading my blog…why not give a little in return? Redheads need love too.