I Scream, You Scream, etc.

Yesterday the New York Times' political writer nonpariel-turned food and travel correspondent, R.W. Apple Jr., ran something of an homage to the great state of Texas' Blue Bell ice cream.

On the hierarchy of foods, ice cream has to rank near the absolute pinnacle. This is not a subjective assertion. It is an empirical asertion of fact. Only Communists, terrorists, Nazis and Yankee fans do not like, no, love, ice cream. (Note: Use of Communists, Nazis, terrorists, and Yankee fans was done for wry effect, ironically. dcat still opposes the profligate use of Nazi and Commuinist analogies. Terrorists and Yankees fans? Still fair game.)

I grew up about two hours from the home of Ben & Jerrys in Waterford, Vermont, and so have always been partial to their array of flavors, with Cherry Garcia as my personal favorite (even though the Grateful dead suck). I can, however, attest that Blue Bell is pretty good. In any case, it is lunchtime, and today lunch might just consist of a couple of scoops on a waffle cone. (Mmmmmm. Waffle runoff.)