“Oooh you know what I could really go for right now?” I asked Flaneur one day as we both sat on the couch, hunkering down in the comfort of our air-conditioned apartment as the world outside baked on another over-100-degree infernal summer day in the city.
“A Klondike bar,” I answered myself, closing my eyes and imagining the foil-wrapped, deliciously cold, chocolate-covered ice cream square resting between my fingers.
“Hmm, I’ve never had one.”
“WHAAAT?” I sqwaked, my eyes snapping open, pulling me out of my reverie.
“We didn’t have them in Italy!”
“So?! You spent almost every summer and Christmas break in America, didn’t you?”
“Well, yea, but I dunno. I just never had one.”
“Ugh! What kind of deprived childhood did you have?”
I sat up, resolute.
“Let’s go. We need to fix this.”
We went to four delis before we found one that sold individual Klondike bars and by that time I was so sweaty, hot and cranky from the sun that I thought I should have just bought a whole pack of them at the supermarket. (Lesson for next time.)
When we saw the ice cream freezer, I immediately slid the glass door open and reached for the original Klondike. To my overcooked brain, it was like a mirage in the desert, sparkling in its silver wrapper. Flaneur on the other hand was distracted by something else.
“Ooh can I get this one?” he asked, reaching past the Original to grab a different Klondike in a blue plastic wrapper: Klondike with Oreo cookies.
I thought about it for a second. The whole point of our trek to the deli five blocks from our apartment (which in the heat really felt like five miles) was so that he could try the simple, classic wonderfulness of the original Klondike bar.
“Of course! Grab it!” He could always just have some of mine. I wanted to try this new Oreo Klondike.
Basically just a fat glob of cookies and cream ice cream sandwiched between two enormous Oreo cookies, it was good but lacked the simplicity of a classic Klondike bar.
“Mmmm, this is good,” Flaneur said after trying mine, dark Oreo crumbs still stuck on his lips and fingertips like a messy kid during recess. The Oreo Klondike was definitely good, especially on a sticky hot day, but the original Klondike bar was smooth, neat and absolutely delicious. What I would do-oo-ooo for another one!