In line, we stood waiting, wondering, what would Salt & Straw have in store for three food loving, but most importantly ice cream adoring eaters? As we neared the fridge filled with what I consider the best culinary invention of all time., my mouth began to salivate, it was almost ice cream tasting time, my favorite time of all time.; nostalgia wrapped in cold creamy happiness.
A man with a mustache (this is Portland, so obviously this story starts with a man with a mustache), came forth to us three with such joy and fervor for his craft that he was only willing to sell his golden product to other passionate creamed devotees who’d be willing to take the journey he so offered. As my eyes slowly lifted from the serving counter’s this and that’s from other customers, I met this mustached ice cream warrior’s gaze and our reckless ice cream moments of abandon commenced.
“Come with me…..if you want to live,” he said. Ok, I added that last part, but he really did summon us as if we were chosen with care and we stepped forth. With novice, we asked to try this and that, our mentor, carefully asked us to trust him with the choices we’d receive. And so it went.
Fruits, sorbets, decadence, they came in teaspoon fulls one after the next. The salty sweet behind the lemon sour, next to balsamic drizzle, just a turn away from lavender. Each flavor building on its brethren’s footsteps. Each flavor a miracle of its own. And still, after each taste we knew our biggest task was upon us, the choice of what would fulfill our bellies and feed our ever-growing sugar addiction, what was to be chosen for scoops.
And so it was, each serving gorgeously placed a top the next, sliding down into the tub, submissive, soft, luxurious. Harmony.
We sat and we ate, as the people gathered and had their own ice cream escapades, just as us three. A journey of sweetness and flavors unexpected come to a close. Until next time.
And, next time there will be.
From Salt & Straw directly: