Life is Better with a Pint of Vermont’s Finest
Oct 08
Today’s post is different than any other post I’ve written. Today I’m joining several blog-land friends in a quest to get the attention of Ben&Jerry’s in the hopes of maybe getting free product or having a news report taken of us. Technically we’re supposed to be trying to get Freshly Pressed, but I can’t play that game because I’m not on WordPress (dot) com, so my goal is free product and fame. We have all been asked to tell our own Ben&Jerry’s story. You know, the ice cream? At the end of my story you will find links to 10 other stories, which I hope you will read and comment on (kind comments only please, you should never write unkind comments about ice cream). The organizer of this ice cream extravaganza is my good friend and co-blogger at kimberlyandlenore.com, Lenore Diane. She is rumored to eat 17 pints a week, but I don’t know who started that rumor (me), because I’m pretty sure it’s only like one or four.
My story isn’t like the others. I’m not going to tell you about my adventures with my favorite B&J flavors. I really want to tell you about how I bought a pint of each flavor and lay them all out on the kitchen table with a spread sheet, sampling each one, describing what I was tasting and rating them then sharing my findings here. Unfortunately, this will not be my story. That’s because I will never, ever have that kind of adventure. First of all it’s costly (financially and on my fat stores and coronary arteries), secondly, there’s no way in holy hell my sweet Hot Joe would ever allow me to do this. Not even 5 pints. He’s just rude.
Instead, I’m going to share with you a completely different experience; one unlike anybody else in this group, I’ll bet. It’s amazing, it’s special, and it’s totally unique.
It was early June, 1993. I rode in a limousine with my grandparents to LAX, meeting up with my mom, her friend and my sister. We jumped on a plane and flew to San Francisco where we were allowed to exit first to run across the airport to catch the next flight – to Paris. My mom’s step-brother was waiting for us at the plane in San Francisco, having flown down from Seattle. The flight to Paris took 11 hours, followed by an 8-hour layover during which time we never left the airport. Aside from the hour or so we spent being pushed back in a large circumference around a suitcase which a man dressed like a green Michelen Man attached wires and blew a suspicious abandoned suitcase up, it was a pretty uneventful 8 hours. The suitcase had a couple of shirts and a bible.
Next we boarded another plane, a much smaller one, and loud, and really small, with a lot of people in it, for our final 4-hour flight to Israel. Or maybe it was three. Who knew at that point? I finally slept on that flight. When we landed in Israel, it was daylight. Since we had left Los Angeles 22 hours earlier we had yet to see night.
Our first stop on our 2-week trip to Israel was Tel Aviv, where we stayed at the Moriah Hotel. It was quite pretty. We each went to our rooms to take a nap, with plans to meet up for dinner that evening. After dinner we all took a stroll on the boardwalk and met up with some friends of my grandparents who were also visiting Israel. My sweet, gentle grandmother quickly bragged on herself while simultaneously slamming me to the ground in just four sentences. “Yes, it is nice of us to bring our family here, isn’t it? We also sent our granddaughters on trips after they graduated from high school. Kimberly started college but never finished it. Imagine what kind of trip we could have sent her on if she had?” Ahhhh, Gramma.
After our short visit, we said our goodbyes and continued on our walk. Imagine my surprise, when right there on the boardwalk in Tel Aviv, Israel, a long flight, a long layover and a shorter flight away from home, was a glorious wonderful Ben&Jerry’s ice cream shop. This was my first taste of their wondrousness. How many people can say their first taste of Ben&Jerry’s was in Tel Aviv, Israel? No comments from the peanut gallery (my family) needed here.
We traveled all over Israel in those two weeks, including Jerusalem, Bethlehem, the via dolorosa, the Dead Sea, Haifa, Ehlat…but Ben&Jerry’s definitely made the top 5 – and we ended up seeing TWO of them. The other highlights of Israel are for another post, because today’s post is dedicated in our own way to our personal experiences with Ben&Jerry’s.
Years later I moved to a city with a B&J’s shop within walking distances that I visited only one or two times. It wasn’t the same, going there. I mean, pints from the store aside, how could Ben&Jerry’s ever compare to my first experience, in Israel?
Please, visit my friends, and read their stories. Maybe they’re allergic. Maybe they’re writing about how much they hate B&J’s. Maybe they want to tell us of their addiction. Who knows? At the publishing of this I have read none of their posts. I will, after work this afternoon, but right now, I have no idea.
You know, Kim …. if I was made of money, I would have every single flavor delivered to your house, so you could do exactly as you describe…. taste each and every one presented to you on your kitchen counter. What a lovely visual – the numerous pints of Ben & Jerry’s on your counter.. mmmm…..
You are more than likely going to win on coolest place to eat Ben &Jerry’s ice cream. I love how you had to travel half way around the world to sample the delicacy. Figures, eh? Show off. (smile)
THIS WAS AWESOMESAUCE!! Thanks for playing!
Since you aren’t made of money can you just send what you can afford? LOVED playing.
Our local B&J shop closed. It was replaced by a frozen yogurt dive. Sadness all around.
I don’t think we even HAVE a shop nearby but to be honest with you I’d rather not know. The temptation would be too great.
Sometimes the further you are away from home, the closer to home you are. Sounds like you had an amazing trip…all the better for your first taste of some of Vermont’s finest.
It really WAS amazing, and I love that I can say THAT’S my first taste.
How cool to find one in Israel! I have two Ben and Jerry’s shops within 20 minutes of my house. Yep, I am screwed.
Ha ha! Totally screwed, Darlinski.
Sucks to be you. I couldn’t control myself.
and your mom and I had our first “date” at Ben and Jerrys. We just didn’t know it yet.
Why did I not know that?!?!?!?!
You definitely win the prize for coolest place to first try Ben & Jerry’s. I think my memorable first was after buying some at a grocery store. Whoopdy-friggin’-do.
BTW, your grandma sounds like a heck of a feisty lady – I bet you have LOTS of stories to tell about her.
Oh man I have SO MANY STORIES of that wonderful bitchy woman.
I bet the ice cream tasted even sweeter for being that far from home. I would have also been surprised to find a B&J shop in Israel.
Great post!
Thank you!! It was ridiculously delicious.
Ah yes; I remember THEM well!
I’ll bet you win the ‘Traveled Farthest for a Scoop’ award.
I’m pretty sure. I just wonder when my award will get here…
That is the coolest place to have your first encounter with Ben & Jerry’s. Sounds like a fabulous trip. And I had a Grandma like that – she could make me feel totally incompetent within seconds of stepping into her house. I wonder sometimes why I kept going back!
Nice story.
Thank you Katy and yes, I often wonder why we continued to go back to Gramma. She had her goodness too.
I went to France with a group of high school kids as a pseudo-chaperone. We landed in Paris and they all busted into the first Starbucks that they saw. I love that. Such a feeling of comfort while surrounded by pure wonder.
How cool!!! When we landed in Paris all we got was a bunch of kids asking if we were American and watched 90210.
You really crack me up – who would even THINK about recording ice cream experiences with a spreadsheet? That’s just Kim. Um, you’re going to hate me but I’m not an ice cream fan. My dad banned it from our house because it’s a buzz-killer, unless of course, it’s drizzled with brandy. But why – would anyone – do -that?
That’s just ME Nami. Duh
I want ice cream right now, and YES I would totally make a spreadsheet. It’s the OCD in my.