Maybe soon one of my posts will NOT be about food but don’t hold your breath. I wholeheartedly admit that I spend an inordinate amount of time focused on food. Ask my mom and she will confirm my passion for gastronomy goes back to when I was a little boy. I had my very own chef’s hat and apron I’d wear around the kitchen and I’d profess how I would grow up one day to be a chef. I was proud my magnet of a chef with my name printed across the apron that was placed on our kitchen refrigerator.
When I got a bit older I developed an interest in becoming a pastry chef. My aunt Rosie took Wilton cake decorating classes and she was the cake matriarch of the family. Each occasion she would whip up an elaborately decorated cake. She’d spend hours perfecting each rosette while getting the frosting to be perfectly flat and even. After her passing, she left me boxes worth of cake decorating equipment that I hope to one day have the storage to house it.
I obviously did not wind up pursuing a career in the culinary arts. I chalk that up to one very specific experience in high school. I intended to apply at the CIA and to do so needed a minimum of 6 months experience working in a restaurant. I found a job as kitchen support at the Teakettle Steakhouse. This local dump somehow managed to fall under the radar of every health inspector. Either that or they were paid off! I worked there for about a week after having cleaned white mold floating in about 3 inches of freezing cold water across the entire bottom of the refrigerator and cleaning grease caked on pots and pans in cool water since the kitchen never seemed to get hot water. I shooed away mice, roaches and other insects crawling everywhere. I watched the 300 pound chef cook and touch his food after having adjusted his sweaty manhood over and over. Finally, when I was ask to ladle out the grease trap into the trash in the back yard I gave up. I called my mom to come pick me up and when she showed up she told me I looked green. This experience managed to kill my life long passion in the course of one week.
But now years later I find that passion creeping back. So yes, I love food! And I love love love ice cream. The bigger the better. There is no such thing as too much ice cream. Recently, I learned about an amazing ice cream joint called Cabot’s in Newton, MA. Our friends joined Mario and me for lunch that day dubbed “ice cream social” day. Lucas just turned 4 years old a few days prior so it was an appropriate birthday celebration event.
The day I learned about this place I had my eyes set on the Dentist Disaster. A HUGE helping of ice cream it comes with 5 generous scoops of ice cream, snickers candy, toffee, crumbled heath bars, milky way candy, Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups, hot fudge, whipped cream and topped with mini Reese’s Pieces candy. It brought a tear to my eye when the waitress placed this mountain of ice cream in front of me on the table. Everyone else opted for a more modest 3 scoop sundae. I think they wimped out!