The Frozen Flavors of Summer

Hooray! There’s a new Vocal writing challenge.

It’s about summer foods? Okay, I can do that.

Oh, but it looks like the contest is in tandem with Camp Mac N’ Cheese. In fact, all entrants receive free boxes of Camp’s healthier take on the popular and nostalgic concoction.

Cue the trombone – wah wah wah.

My emotions went from inspiration and curiosity to utter deflation quicker than a high striker puck at a summer carnival. How could I as a mostly plant-based person ever win a contest where the main ingredient is cheese?

Then I focused back in on the picture and saw the hopeful, little word on one of the boxes – vegan. And it was all “yes!” from there.

Summer may taste different for everyone, but “I scream, you scream, we all scream for ice cream!”

During my early childhood in a New Jersey suburb during the late seventies and early eighties, the neighborhood kids knew summer had truly arrived when we’d hear the iconic music of the ice cream man. Everyone would run into their houses at the first faint notes of “Pop Goes the Weasel” to beg their parents for change. Thoughts of cool treats such as the Chocolate Éclair, Strawberry Shortcake, or the Mouseketeer Bar swirled in our heads.

One such occasion stands out more than the rest – probably because it ended with a black and blue eye and bloody knees, hands, and elbows. Roller-skating on the sidewalk, I heard the distant notes of the ice-cream truck and rolled up to our porch to take off my skates. After rushing inside to our dining room full of relatives, I begged for change. As each person began to look for money in their pockets, the ice-cream truck crept by our house and continued down the road. Finally, my Uncle Bruce gave me enough to purchase treats for my little sister and me. I tore down the stairs and put my skates back on. Then, with my sister running behind me, I took off at full speed to catch up with the truck.

Unfortunately, after crashing, I must have looked a fright. My sister took one glance at me and broke out in sobs. She stood there and didn’t respond to my pleas to get Mom or Dad. So, I rolled back, slowly and painfully, while my sister walked behind me wailing. Of course, there was no ice-cream for us that day.

Ice cream is also iconic due to its relationship with birthdays. My sister was the lucky one with a birthday in the beginning of July, while mine at the end of August always foretold the end of summer. But regardless of birth date, your annual cake is probably paired with ice cream. Farrell's Ice Cream Parlour did it right when I was a child with all the hullabaloo and their famous clown sundae.

Later, Friendly's Ice Cream became a favorite summertime destination for my friends and me. Reese's Pieces Sundae in a giant fishbowl, anyone?

During the summers of my early childhood, we visited my great-grandmother at her Wildwood, New Jersey beach home. Not only was there a Breyer’s Ice Cream counter a few doors down that my grandfather would accompany me to, but there were also much-coveted beach treats. Back then the sandy trek to the ocean felt like crossing the Sahara Desert. Halfway to the waves, a swingset gave beachgoers a much-needed break. Then, sometime during the salty afternoons playing in the surf, we’d hear the call of the “Fudgie Wudgie Man” as he pushed his cooler full of Bomb Pops and other frozen goodies through the hot sand.

After my parents divorced when I was twelve years old, I spent entire summers at another South Jersey beach with my father and grandmother. In Ocean City, there was no “Fudgie Wudgie Man,” but beachgoers would have to go back up to the bulkhead entrance where a teenager on a bicycle cooler spent their days selling ice cream treats like Push-Ups and Italian Water Ice. On the hottest days, my sister and I would return to our towels with half of it running down our hands in sticky rivers.

And many nights my grandmother would drive us down to Dairy Queen for a chocolate-dipped cone that we’d eat on picnic tables beneath the glow of a hard-working bug zapper. You can read more about those days, in a previous piece entitled Sepia-Stained Memories.

Nostalgic summer memories and visions of ice-cream remain intertwined in my mind today. Lucky for me, most (if not all) current ice-cream brands have plant-based versions made with products like almond, cashew, coconut, or soy milk. But you can also recreate yummy concoctions at home. A quick internet search will reveal recipes from healthy nice cream made with bananas to vegan Avocado Mint Chocolate Chip ice cream.

Basil Strawberry popsicles are one of my favorites for steamy summer afternoons. For six servings, put two cups of strawberries, fourteen ounces of coconut milk, two tablespoons of maple syrup, and twelve basil leaves into a blender and mix well. Then add them to ice cream molds with popsicle sticks and freeze until firm. In about five or six hours, you’ll have a surprisingly refreshing and healthy treat to bring back those sundrenched childhood memories.

True to tradition, discovering new frozen flavors during my summertime travels is always part of my vacation plans. A recent find is the delicious Lemon Lavberry cookie sandwich by Surfin Spoon in the Outer Banks of North Carolina.

And who knows? Perhaps after receiving my Camp Mac N’ Cheese, I will have another summer staple to add to my plant-based lifestyle.

Here's to hoping it will perfectly pair with my Impossible meatloaf recipe.