While rifling through the freezer for frozen pancakes this morning, I was confronted with a wall of ice cream. Each pull-out basket had a stash. My kids have been complaining about it for a week or two, suggesting that I throw the cartons away because most of them are either almost empty or they're so old they're covered with a layer of crystals--little stelagmites rising up to the lid. My response was always, "why don't you throw them away? Put them in the sink to melt, and then we'll toss the containters?" I guess it wasn't such an issue for them afterall, because this morning, the cartons were all still there.
Chocolate chip. Double chocolate chip. Double fudge. Mint chocolate chip. Cherry vanilla. Vanilla with orange sherbet. Four containers of plain vanilla--yes, four. You cannot serve flourless chocolate cake without a nice round scoop of vanilla, so you must buy a new container while shopping at "the store" just in case the supply is low at home. Butter pecan.
My father would only eat butter pecan. Each Saturday, my mother would make a cake-mix cake that would last through most of the next week, and it would be served with butter pecan ice cream. It didn't matter what kind of cake it was, and it didn't matter if the flavors conflicted. "Hey Rob, get up and get me some cream."
Anyway, my kitchen sink is now filled with 11 containers of ice cream at various levels of old. 11 containers! And because I never buy the cheap stuff, I estimate the refuse heap to be approximately $40 worth of milk and chocolate and cherry and orange and vanilla bean.
I'm afraid to look in the produce drawer.